Omesede, 35 years old, from Nigeria

Around Easter in 2007, a friend told me about a woman who was recruiting young women to work for her as prostitutes in Dubai. At that time, my family and I were struggling financially - we were barely surviving, with barely enough food to eat. I felt I had no choice but to leave Nigeria in search of better opportunities. When I met the recruiter, she explained that we would need to work until we had earned €80,000, after which we would be free to do whatever we wanted. I had no real understanding of how much that was. I truly believed that by leaving, I would be able to make money easily and send it back home.

Before we left, we were taken to a native doctor who specialised in black magic, where we swore an oath not to reveal anything to the police in Dubai and to remain completely loyal to our sponsor. We were told that if we broke this oath, we would face terrible misfortunes like disease, suffering or death.

In July 2007, we travelled to Dubai to meet the sponsor, a woman who owned a beauty salon. She lived in an apartment with two children and eight other young women who were working for her. The day after I arrived, she told me and the others to go to the clubs and start working. The older girls advised us on who to go home with and who to avoid. Every night, we had to record our work in a notebook and hand over all the money to the sponsor.

Some men took advantage of me, some were violent. I was afraid for my life - I lived in constant fear that one of them would kill me. There were many stories of girls who had been murdered by men in Dubai.

Every day was the same. I was forced to work in the trafficker’s salon from 8am to 6pm then get ready and go to the clubs at 9pm, working until 2am when they closed. I was exhausted. The sponsor became angry that I wasn’t bringing in enough money and would beat me. When she wasn’t in the mood to beat me, she would force me to sleep outside in the extreme heat. She had my passport, and I was terrified - not just of her, but of the curse I believed would follow me if I ever tried to escape. To this day, I still hear her voice and the threats she made.

Because of financial struggles, she moved us to Ajman, where the work was even more dangerous. There, many of the girls I was with were taken to the desert and raped. Some were badly injured, but they couldn’t go to hospital because of their visa situation. Then, sometime in 2014, we relocated again—this time to Al Ain, where there was more work. I only stayed in Al Ain for a few months because I found out my mother was sick. I begged the sponsor for weeks before she finally allowed me to return to Nigeria. I promised her I would come back and continue working for her.

When I arrived home, my mother’s condition had worsened. I needed money for her medicine, but I had nothing. My uncles and aunties refused to help when they found out I had been in the UAE - they were ashamed of me. They stopped visiting and refused to support me in caring for my mother. Not long after, she passed away.

To this day, I have nightmares. I feel trapped in the past, unable to escape the memories of what happened to me. I carry so much pain, so much hatred in my heart. Even now, I feel unwell whenever I think about it.