By Nathan Eyagu
As several girls continue flocking into the Arab countries to work as maids—commonly known as kadamas—many are unaware of the dark and degrading experiences that await them behind the high walls of the luxurious homes they’re sent to serve in.
For Sabina Saidi, a determined mother of three from East Africa, the promise of a better life led her to Saudi Arabia with hope in her heart. Like many other kadamas, she left behind her family and small business with the belief that working abroad would change her family’s future. But nothing could have prepared her for the inhuman treatment she would later endure.
Sabina’s job as a maid began with what seemed like normal housework—cleaning, cooking, and caring for the household. But just a few weeks into her contract, the atmosphere turned sinister. One day, she approached her male employer with concern: one of the household’s dogs had started licking her legs and buttocks. Instead of helping, he laughed and delivered a chilling response:
"These dogs also have feelings like humans. It was asking you to sleep with it."
That moment shattered Sabina’s sense of safety.
“It scared me to my core,” she recalls. “I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was there to clean and serve—not to be treated like an animal myself.”
What followed was a cycle of emotional torment and physical abuse. Sabina was moved from one household to another, each presenting its own horrors. In one family, the man of the house would constantly harass her—touching her, making inappropriate advances, and ignoring her pleas for respect. The house had many older sons, making her feel constantly watched, objectified, and unsafe.
Despite her refusal to entertain their actions, her resistance only seemed to fuel their aggression. “They wanted to break me,” she says. “One day, the whole family sat down and decided no one should treat me with kindness. They told each other to speak to me harshly and to show me contempt.”
Sabina was slapped, beaten, and emotionally isolated. “I was in pain, surrounded by strangers, and no one liked me. I couldn’t even step outside because they had seized my passport. I was trapped.”
Her mental anguish deepened when the son of the family, who initially showed her kindness, turned predator too. One night, he entered her room and tried to touch her. “I thought I had finally found someone human in that house—but he betrayed my trust.”
Eventually, the relationship between them developed into something more. “It felt like love,” Sabina says, “or maybe it was just the need for safety and connection in a dark place.” But when the family discovered their relationship, things spiraled again. She was beaten and degraded once more—punished for daring to connect with the very people who had dehumanized her.
Her story was recently shared during an emotional and eye-opening interview with Afrimax, a YouTube channel known for documenting raw and powerful human life stories across Africa. The platform gave Sabina the voice to speak out and warn others who might be considering a similar path.
Her story is not a lone incident. Thousands of kadamas from East Africa are still trafficked or lured into domestic work in the Middle East under contracts that strip them of their rights, freedom, and dignity. With passports withheld and movement restricted, many become modern-day slaves in the name of survival.
Sabina’s tale is a cry for help—and a warning. It challenges the myth that jobs abroad always lead to success. “If you think moving abroad will solve all your problems,” she says, “please think again.”
Today, she is back home—bruised, but not broken. Her voice joins the growing chorus of survivors demanding justice, regulation, and better protection for migrant workers, especially vulnerable women working as kadamas in foreign lands.