I am a Nigerian young woman who is currently living in Ghana. I never planned on coming to Ghana the way I did but life led me here in search of greener pastures. Everything started when I lost my mother on November 8th, 2019. It was just a few months after I had completed my high school education. Her death wasn’t something that took the family by surprise, as she was battling heart disease. However, it rocked our world because she was the only parent my siblings and I could count on.

My father abandoned us long ago. He has another family somewhere and he doesn’t care whether we live or die. He was present at my mother’s funeral but that was the last we saw of him. The only other person we could have relied on is my grandfather. But he is very old and can hardly take care of himself. He broke his leg in an accident in 2016 but he is still in pain to date. That leaves us in the care of my elder brother. He loves us and he would do anything for us but he is only one person. He can’t do so much by himself. So I went about searching for a job so I could help him with the responsibilities.

Unfortunately, my qualifications put me at a disadvantage in the job market. I searched and searched for months but nothing turned up. One day I was on a job hunt when I ran into an old friend of my mum’s. “Seeing you makes me miss your mother so much,” she said. I smiled politely in the face of little words. She took my smile as an encouragement to share memorable stories about her childhood with my mother. I felt happy hearing about my mother’s childhood from someone who knew her closely. When she finished with her trip down memory lane she asked me, “How are you coping with everything? Do you have a job?”

I took the moment to share my challenges in securing a job. She gave me an assuring smile and said, “Then it’s good I met you. Because my daughter who lives in Ghana is looking for a hardworking girl to work in her boutique in Ghana. When she visits Nigeria in three weeks I will tell her about you.” I was once again happy after hearing what this woman had to say. I bounced all the way home and told my brother all about my encounter with her. My brother who was struggling to put food on the table was also happy that I was offered an opportunity to travel to Ghana to work. We prayed and kept our fingers crossed so that everything would happen in my favour.

True to the woman’s word, I received a call from them when her daughter came to Ghana. I went to their place and I spoke to my potential boss. She looked like a responsible woman in her thirties. And she told me upfront that she was only considering me for the position because her mother recommended me. She also insisted that I must take an oath of loyalty to her before she gives me the job. She told me, “The last time I took someone from Nigeria to Ghana to work, she stole from me and ran off to God knows where. So you understand why I can’t just trust you.”

I was desperate, and I also knew that I wouldn’t steal from her so I swore heaven and earth that I would be loyal to her. What I did not do was ask questions about the nature of the job. Especially, after my madam requested that I give her a strand of my hair and clippings of my fingernails. I thought it was strange but this opportunity fell into my laps and I did not want to miss it by asking too many questions. She told me we would be leaving in three days so I went home to look for my passport and prepared myself for the trip.

On the day we were supposed to leave I fell ill but my madam refused to leave without me. So I showed up anyway, and we travelled by road. It was on 16th September 2020, and our destination was Tarkwa. When we arrived she told me exactly what I was expected to do and it had nothing to do with selling clothes. It had more to do with undressing myself and selling my body. Yes, my madam was a madame and she brought me in to pleasure her clients. That wasn’t something I was comfortable with so I refused. In response, she said; “Well, I spent GHC9,000 to bring you here so you have to work and pay back before I give you your freedom.” Then she locked me in a room.

I stayed in the room and worked on my back every time she requested me to. It was awful. If I didn’t do something a particular client requested, he would report me to her. And my madame would make sure I am punished; either beaten or starved. There were seven of us in the house but only three were free to go about as they pleased. Our madame only dated big people who could protect her. Some of these men were important people in government, so there was no use reporting her to the police.

Even if I wanted to take the risk and report her I couldn’t. She took my phone from me. Occasionally, she allowed me to make phone calls to my family but it was under her supervision. I said only what she allowed me to say to them. In the course of my stay there, one of the girls quit the job before the madame got her investment back, and the girl went mad. Her name is Vivian. Another girl, Patricia, also quit and ended up in a horrible accident that left her disabled. I heard about all these things happening to the girls but I decided to tempt fate and escape from the house after working for her for six months.

I moved in with a girl who was also in our line of work and she helped me out. I followed her to the Northern Region where my madame wouldn’t be able to find me. Then I applied for jobs so I could save some money and go back home but nothing has come out of it. Somehow my madame got my number and called me one day. She told me, “You will suffer as long as you are in Ghana, and you won’t be able to leave either. You are stuck here until I say so, mark my words.” I thought she was only spewing bitter words but up till now, I haven’t been able to get anything substantial to do to survive, let alone save something to go home.

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My siblings keep calling me and expecting me to send them money but I don’t have anything. I can’t also tell them the kind of trouble I ended up in when I left home. My only resolve now is to avoid their calls until I find my way back home. So they have tagged me as a wicked person, if only they knew half of my story.

Out of frustration, I even went for money rituals during December. I used myself as a sacrifice so that the money will go to my siblings but it turned out to be a scam. I also tried to end my life but someone saved me. When I see my reflection in the mirror I remember all the things the madame made me do and I become engulfed in shame. I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. My life is not useful to either me or my family. Even death has rejected me. I am tired. I want to go home and be with my family. Why is that so hard? I don’t know what the woman did with my hair and nails but I think it has something to do with the curse she pronounced on me the last time we spoke.

Please I need help. I don’t know in what way I can be helped but I just want to go home.

—Rita

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