Where I come from, going abroad was the biggest achievement anyone could have. Anyone who went abroad was treated like a king or queen when they came back to the village. I used to watch in amazement as they were given a hero’s welcome right from the airport and dream of days when I would get the same treatment. No one in my family had gone abroad but my mother was hopeful that I would be the first.
Being the last born, I was extremely close to my mother. She sacrificed the little she had to give me the best life possible. While my other three siblings studied in public schools, I went to a private Catholic school since I was a bright student. I didn’t take her sacrifices for granted. I knew that I was her only hope so I worked hard in school and made sure that I always scored well on exams.
It finally paid off and I passed my final exams with flying colours. I got a scholarship to study abroad and my mother couldn’t contain their excitement.
“You’ve made us proud, my daughter.” She said during a family gathering before I left the country.
“Thank you. I’ll make you prouder, Mum.” I answered.
“Maybe if we went to private schools, we could also go abroad.” One of my siblings said.
They were always envious of me and how close I was to my mother. In fact, I never really had a relationship with them especially since they were significantly older than me and I belonged to a different father. To them, I wasn’t their sibling. Nonetheless, I tried to be cordial with them.
“I’ll invite you when I settle there,” I said, trying to be friendly but my offer was met with sneers.
I tried to ignore their negativity and enjoy my last days at home before leaving for London. However, my siblings’ words started getting to me. They warned me not to end up like some of the people who had gone abroad and returned with nothing. Even though I knew that I was serious about my life, I still had a fear of the unknown. What if I do end up like them? What if it doesn’t work out?
My mother noticed that I wasn’t as excited about travelling and comforted me. She assured me that I would be happy in the new country.
“I have always told you that you would be the first one in our family to travel abroad, didn’t I?” She asked and I nodded in response. “Don’t worry about anything else. Your mother’s prayers are enough.”
The day I was leaving for London, my mother escorted me to the airport and after a teary goodbye, we parted ways. My anxiety kicked in almost immediately. That was my first time away from home. I started questioning whether I was ready to be out in the world alone. After all, I was only 18 years old.
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London was cold. I instantly remember shivering like a leaf when I got off the plane. I almost got lost in the gigantic airport and it took me more than two hours to find my host. They were a white family that had volunteered to host me through a church program. However, they weren’t the most friendly people. I thought that the mum would be like a mother figure to me but she treated me just like another guest in her house.
I started school a week after I arrived which was one of the best days I had experienced since arriving abroad. My hosts lived only a short distance from my school so I opted to walk and enjoy the views. I also didn’t like the big, red buses. They scared me and I would have rather walked 10 kilometres than enter them.
Walking into the university made me hopeful about the future again. I got to meet other people who had come from other countries which made me feel less lonely.
“I’m from India.” One of the new students introduced herself.
“I’m from Kenya,” I said when it was my time to introduce myself.
“Wonderful. We have a huge community of foreign students in our school so make yourselves comfortable.” The student orientation guide said.
Even though there was a huge community of foreign students, no one socialized or even tried to make me feel welcome. I watched as my classmates formed cliques as I struggled to make new friends. Even the Kenyans at my school pushed me away.
“Is it my accent? Do I sound like a villager?” I asked my mother over the phone.
“You know, people are different. Maybe they don’t want friends. Besides, you’re there to study, not to make friends.” My mother advised me.
So far, living abroad was nothing as I imagined. No one seemed happy and I wondered whether I had made a mistake. Even though I was experiencing challenges, I still managed to top my class. I thought that my good grades would win the admiration of my peers but it only alienated me more.
They nicknamed me “Miss Know It All” since I answered almost all the questions and I had become the lecturers’ favourite student. One of the lecturers liked me so much that he offered me a job as his assistant.
I was finishing my first year of a four-year program when my lecturer took notice of my academic capabilities and offered me a job. We had interacted before but I didn’t expect him to give me such an opportunity.
“You can help me grade exams for other students over the holidays.” He said.
I was so excited since I not only got some extra money but also I finally had someone I could talk to, even if it was about schoolwork. That was the first time someone paid attention to me. It felt great and I thought I was headed in the right direction.
However, this would be the beginning of a nightmarish experience abroad. My host family discouraged me from taking the job and instead asked me to help them with their business.
“Do you know what your peers will say when they find out that you graded their exams?” The mother told me.
“Just come work with us if you need extra money.” The father chimed in.
However, I knew that working for them would be unpleasant since they weren’t friendly towards me so I decided to take my lecturer’s offer.
During the holiday break, I continued to go to campus to help him with grading exams. We quickly became good friends and I grew very attached to him that I didn’t notice any red flags in our relationship.
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Things went so well during my first holiday abroad that my hope was restored and it was all thanks to my lecturer. I started spending a lot of time with him even outside of campus. He would take me to dinner many times after we were done with work and during the weekends. He even offered to show me around the city.
“It’s so boring here. It’s nothing like my country, Kenya. I was used to going to the park or the lake on weekends with my friends.” I complained to him.
“Do you want me to take you to all the nice places around the city? I promise you’ll end up falling in love with this place.” He said enthusiastically.
“I doubt it. I already had a bad experience.”
“I’ll change that.”
He took me around the city just as he had promised. We first went to see the Birmingham Palace since I had always wanted to see it in person. Everything seemed so new and different even though I had been in London for almost one year. While we were taking pictures, one of those big, red buses that I absolutely hated passed by and I panicked.
“What’s wrong?” my lecturer asked.
“I don’t like those buses.”
He laughed after finding out that I was scared of them. We finished the day by taking a bus ride to campus where he had parked his car.
“Thank you so much. I had a lot of fun.” I said as we stood beside his car. He then pulled me in and pinned me against the car. He stared into my eyes for a while which made me uncomfortable. I tried to move away but he held me back.
“We’re doing this again next weekend?”
“Of course,” I said. He reached in for a hug before we parted ways.
When I got home, I found my hosts waiting for me in the living room. They asked me to sit and gave me a look that let me know exactly what they were thinking.
“What’s going on between you and that lecturer?”
“He’s my friend, my only friend. Nobody includes me in their plans and all my classmates hate me. I have no one to talk to but him.” I explained, trying to stay calm.
“He’s not your friend. He is a lecturer and having a relationship with him is inappropriate.”
I may have been an obedient girl but I was pushed beyond my limit and I could no longer accept the rules that my hosts had imposed on me. They were more strict with me than my own mother and no matter what I said, I couldn’t change their mind.
“What about my work?” I asked.
“We offered you a job in our business and it’s still available. However, if you keep working with that lecturer, we can’t host you any more.”
I knew that they didn’t like me but I didn’t expect that they would kick me out just because I was trying to make my life abroad a little easier.
“Okay, I’ll start looking for a new place this week,” I answered and got up to leave.
“Remember what brought you to London.” My host said as I walked away.
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My mother didn’t know that I was leaving my host family until the day that I was moving out. I had managed to get a cheap apartment and buy some furniture with the money I had earned over the holidays. As I loaded my things in the moving van, my mother called me.
“What are you doing? Why are you moving out?” She yelled through the phone and for a second, it felt like she was right behind me.
“I’ve told you about how I feel here. I need my own space.”
“That family is very good, my daughter. Don’t let other people mislead you.” She cautioned me.
“I can take care of myself, Mum.”
“Remember that you’re living abroad. Those people are very different from us.”
“I’m fine. Stop worrying about me.” I yelled then hung up.
I felt like my mother didn’t understand my situation since she wasn’t there and that she was taking other people’s side even when I tried to explain things to her. That was the first time that I felt like she was not on my side yet it was the one time I needed her to support me the most.
When I moved out, I felt even more lonely than before. My neighbours were mostly labourers who woke up at the crack of dawn to go to work. The girls were mostly nightclub workers and they slept during the day. The neighbourhood was also sketchy and I barely left my house unless I was going to the supermarket or school.
“I’m so scared of this place,” I said to my lecturer over the phone.
“I’ll help you look for another apartment. A beautiful girl like you should live in a high-end apartment.”
“Thank you. I don’t know how I would survive here without you.”
“Anything for you. Have you eaten?”
“No, why?”
“Let’s meet at our usual restaurant.”
I dressed up and went to meet him. As usual, we had a good time and he made me laugh which helped me forget about all my problems since I arrived abroad. Before I realized it, it was almost midnight and we were still at the restaurant.
“You can’t go to your apartment right now.” he said, “Let me book a hotel room for you.”
I agreed since I didn’t want to risk travelling to that side alone. We went to a nearby hotel and he booked a hotel room for me and then escorted me to my room. He came in and then pulled me to the bed. Before I could even say anything, he started kissing me. I gave in to him since I thought that he loved me and he would take care of me.
The following morning, he went to the university and I went back to my apartment. I stayed a couple of days without going to the university. Going to school was a challenge for me since I had to walk quite a distance to take the bus and the area wasn’t very safe. My lecturer had promised to pick me up every day from my place but that wasn’t possible. Additionally, things changed after the night we slept together. We didn’t spend as much time together apart from work. I confronted him about it and he came clean.
“The university gave me a warning. Someone said that I was having an inappropriate relationship with a student and they threatened to fire me.”
I knew it was the family that I lived with. However, I didn’t know why they went out of their way to make my life a living hell.
“You can’t work with me anymore,” He continued, “but I asked one of my friends and she agreed to hire you as her assistant.”
It felt like I was back to square one. All the progress I was making in settling down abroad came crashing down. I became depressed and rarely left my house. I stopped going to classes or work. My rent accumulated for months that I got evicted and started living in homeless shelters. Life in the homeless shelters was a complete nightmare. All my belongings were stolen on the first day that I arrived. I didn’t have any clothes, phone or documents. I lived in those shelters for two months before I met a social worker who informed me about a recruitment agency.
“It’s not glamorous work but it will earn you some money,” she explained.
I went to the recruitment agency and got a job almost immediately. If only I knew about it sooner, I wouldn’t have suffered in the homeless shelters. I got a job as a street sweeper where I worked for almost a year before the recruitment agency offered me another job. For the past year, I had formed a good relationship with the social worker and my recruitment agent. They noticed that I was brilliant.
“How did you end up in a homeless shelter.” The social worker asked
“I was a bright student with a promising future and I threw it all away,” I said in tears as I narrated my story to her.
“It happens. Many people come here and waste the opportunity.” She consoled me.
“We think you could be a great tutor,” she suggested.
I perked up after hearing her proposal. As much as I appreciated the sweeper job, I was ready for anything else.
“Would you be interested?” the recruiter asked.
“Of course, I would,” I said excitedly.
“There’s a family that’s looking for an affordable tutor for their son. this is their number. Call them as soon as possible.”
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I went back to my single-room apartment and made the call. they were pretty straightforward about their expectations which made me less nervous. The following day, I went to their address where I was welcomed by a fairly young British couple.
“Bradley really needs help with his math. He’s in Year 12 and he needs to get his grades up if he wants to join the university,” they said.
I listened attentively as they gave me instructions on the tutoring arrangement. after an hour, we were done and I started my job. The job was pretty easy compared to sweeping the streets. I also got to be part of a family if only for a few hours. The son was a bit hostile towards me at first but we slowly bonded after he realized I was nothing like his uptight teachers. In fact, I start tutoring him on other subjects for free since his parents couldn’t afford any more lessons.
I became known in their neighbourhood as the tutor and got more jobs through their referral. This job paid me so much money that I was able to pay my rent, feed myself and save the rest. I planned to save enough to allow me to re-enrol in university and finish my degree. It took a couple of years but I managed to do it with the help of some of my clients. They learnt about my plan and arranged a fundraiser for me.
You can imagine the shock on everyone’s faces when they saw me on campus. The lecturer who had messed up my life nearly ran from fear but I wasn’t focused on him or anyone else. I went back with a laser focus on graduating. It was a long road but it finally happened and three years later, I was a university graduate. My mother even attended the graduation. She forgave me for the many years that I didn’t contact her and was simply happy to see me alive and well.
When I got home, I got the hero’s welcome that other people who had come from abroad got thanks to my mother. She managed to convince my village people that I had extended my stay abroad because I was working and pursuing a Master’s at the same time.
A goat was slaughtered in my honour and the villagers crowded around me singing my praises. During the celebrations, I donated some money to the school since they were building a new library.
I avoided talking about my life abroad but anytime someone asked about my experience, I lied. Now I understand why many think going abroad is paradise until they actually go. Nonetheless, it was a lesson that I learnt the hard way and I would never make the same mistake twice.
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This story first appeared on our blog as My Life Abroad Was A Nightmare Part 1 and My Life Abroad Was A Nightmare Part 2
