In Saudi Arabia, many Asian and/or African maids work in terrible conditions. Their most fundamental rights are violated: they are held against their will, humiliated, sometimes even tortured. A young Kenyan woman, who has fled her Saudi employers and is now in hiding, told us her story.
The account of a Sri Lankan maid who was tortured by her Saudi employers is far from being an isolated case. Some 1.5 million foreigners work as housemaids in Saudi Arabia. According to the Damman police spokesman, 20,000 of them fled the homes where they were employed after being mistreated.
“I live in fear of being found by my employers”
Christine is a 26-year-old woman from Kenya. She has been living in hiding in Saudia Arabia for the past six months since fleeing her employers, who held her against her will. She was stripped of her passport and cannot return home. She is currently living with our Observer, Mohamed, who, alerted to a plight, has decided to try to help her.
I arrived in Saudi Arabia in 2009 at Jeddah’s international airport. I had obtained my work visa at the Saudi embassy in Nairobi, where I was promised a job as an children’s English teacher. I arrived here with seven other women, all in the same situation as I was. My “sponsor” came to pick me up at the airport. I found the fact that he was accompanied by his wife and mother-in-law reassuring. They told me that, for the time being, I would be teaching English to their own children. But I quickly realised that I had been tricked. Instead of taking me to their home, we went to the home of friends of theirs where several Kenyans were already working as maids. There, they removed my passport and my cell phone (with the all of my contact numbers in it), saying they would be returned the day I went back home.
Then I was sent to work in the mother-in-law’s home. There, I met another Kenyan woman who had been working as a maid for two months. She warned my of what lay ahead. One month later, I was sent back to my main employer’s home. There began a truly horrible period that lasted around four months. I slept in a tiny, cramped room with a thin, hard mattress on the floor. I had to ask for permission to eat. I worked like crazy, doing all of the housework, from ten in the morning to five or six the next morning non-stop.
“I wasn’t allowed to make a single phone call for two months”
I wasn’t allowed to call home for two months. When I finally did, I learned that my father was very ill and had been hospitalised. I asked my employer – to whom I’m not supposed to be allowed to talk to – if he could pay me my salary so that I could return home to see my father. I hadn’t been paid anything so far – my monthly salary was supposed to be of 800 rials [around 160 euros], which is next to nothing here, you can barely afford even the lowest of rents. But he and his wife refused, going so far as to tell me that, even if my father did pass away, it wouldn’t be too serious!
That’s when I understood that my only chance would be to run away. Once out of the house, I took a taxi that brought me to the Guinean consulate (the driver understood Guinea instead of Kenya, but anyways there is no Kenyan consulate in Jeddah). I had a lot of trouble getting officials there to understand what was going, given that I only speak English. I finally ended up waiting for two months in the consulate’s courtyard.
Finally, I met Mohamed. He took care of me and put an end to the worst of my troubles. But it’s still not over, because I haven’t retrieved my passport yet so I can’t leave the country. I live in the fear of being found by my former employers.”
“I think it’s disgraceful that the Kenyan embassy isn’t doing anything about this situation”
Mohamed, 27, was born in Africa but lives in Saudi Arabia. He teaches foreign languages at a school in Jeddah.
I discovered that situations like this existed after meeting Christine. It’s absolutely scandalous. I know at least 25 women that are in the same situation as she is: with no money, no papers, with no way of ever going home. Some end up turning towards prostitution, others manage to find a new job after running away from their first employers. I think it’s disgraceful that the Kenyan embassy isn’t doing anything to stop this from happening. I’m aware that I’m running a risk by openly criticising these practices, which are frequent here. I didn’t even contact Christine’s former employers to get her passport back, because they’re powerful and well-connected people.
But I’m determined to fight for these women’s rights, nothing will discourage me. I’ve already created a Facebook page to raise awareness to the problem.”
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