About two weeks ago, I traveled to Haarlem in the Netherlands for a training program aimed at enhancing my skills as a journalist. On the weekend of September 28, 2024, I returned to the country, flying from Schiphol International Airport to Doha’s Hamad International Airport, where I was supposed to catch a connecting flight to Entebbe Airport.
As I exited the washroom, I noticed a woman who physically resembled a Ugandan. She appeared to need assistance in finding her way out. The washroom had so many mirrors that she seemed to have forgotten the route she used to enter. I pointed her toward the exit, but she said she would wait for me to finish bathing, so we could go together to the waiting lounge since we were both flying to Entebbe.
The writer at Doha Airport
After I finished bathing and dressing, I found her patiently waiting for me. The lady, whom I will refer to as Hellen Kiconco (not her real name, as I did not obtain her consent to share her story), later asked if I could take her picture standing among the beautiful green flowers at Doha Airport. The journalist in me couldn’t refuse, and my passion for photography led me to agree.
We took pictures and videos of each other before settling into the waiting lounge at 6 AM, ready for our 9:30 AM Qatar Airways flight. While seated, I began to inquire about Kiconco’s background. She informed me that she had come from Saudi Arabia, where she worked as a housemaid for four years. Kiconco expressed her happiness at finally flying back home after such a long time.
I asked her how work had been, and she responded positively. From her pronunciation of words in Luganda, I could tell her accent indicated she was from Lwera Wetland, passing through Nyendo and Mbarara to reach her home.
I asked Kiconco where exactly she was from in Uganda, and she replied that she was from Isingiro. Upon hearing this, I quickly inquired about Moses Mufakinanye, commonly known as Omujugujugu, the Assistant Resident District Commissioner, a person I know to be very vocal and passionate about Isingiro.
Kiconco replied that she did not know Omujugujugu. She explained that she did not recognize most people back home because she had not visited her parents in about ten years prior to her departure for Saudi Arabia. This meant she had now spent a total of 14 years without seeing her parents.
I then asked Kiconco why she had spent so long without visiting her parents and where she had been all those years. We switched languages and began speaking in Runyankole.
Kiconco explained that she was married and could not visit her parents.
I further inquired whether her marriage had ever prevented her from traveling to see her parents. Kiconco revealed that she was married to a man from Hoima, whom someone had connected her with. Now 29 years old, she mentioned that she had entered marriage at 16, unaware of the man she was marrying, having been convinced by someone that he would be a loving partner capable of supporting their family.
Kiconco added that she and her husband had three children—two boys and one girl, with the boys being the first and last born, respectively.
I then asked her where she had left her children when she traveled to Saudi Arabia. Kiconco explained that she had sent the boys to her mother in Isingiro and left the girl in Hoima with her mother-in-law (the girl’s grandmother).
I inquired about her reasoning for leaving the girl in Hoima while sending the boys to Isingiro. Kiconco stated that she could not leave her firstborn in Hoima nor her lastborn there either. However, she did not provide a satisfactory explanation for this decision.
Curious, I asked if she still heard about the girl she left in Hoima. Kiconco confirmed that the girl was now around eight years old and mentioned that the child was lame and disabled. I asked if this was the reason she had left her behind while taking the other children to her parents. Surprisingly, Kiconco replied no.
She clarified that her daughter had been born healthy, received full vaccinations, and she was shocked to learn while abroad that her child had become disabled. From the pictures she showed me on her phone, I suspected the child suffered from rickets. Kiconco mentioned she had been advised to seek herbal medicine instead of conventional treatment. I personally recommended several hospitals that specialize in orthopedic conditions for children of her daughter’s age.
After discussing this topic, I asked Kiconco about her husband—where he was and whether he had allowed her to work as a housemaid and leave their three children behind to suffer.
Kiconco described her husband as”useless, dense, and stupid. ” I was taken aback and asked her how she could have had three children with someone she described in such negative terms. Kiconco explained that not everyone in a marriage is happy. She had never felt love for her husband and stated that they had never connected emotionally, psychologically, or socially.
Kiconco revealed that she endured a marriage filled with suffering, lacking food, school fees, or money for medical treatment for her children. She stayed in the marriage for ten years, not wanting her family to see her as a failure, before deciding to seek a passport and travel to Saudi Arabia to work as a housemaid.
Before her departure for Saudi Arabia, Kiconco shared that she spent an entire year in a house known as “ekiyumba,” waiting for the company to finalize her travel documents. The three years she spent working abroad were the only years she had spent away from home.
I asked her if she still communicated with her husband. Kiconco revealed that he had died while she was working in Saudi Arabia, and she did not attend his burial. I asked when he had died, and she mentioned it happened on the same day social media vlogger Jaja Iculi was shot dead by unknown assailants.
I sympathized with Kiconco for her loss, and tears rolled down my cheeks. I couldn’t imagine being in her shoes. I asked her how it felt to return home after so long with no husband waiting for her. Kiconco laughed at my question. Composed and seemingly unbothered, she stated that her deceased husband was “as good as nothing,” and there was nothing about him that she missed.
After this statement, I wiped my tears, realizing I was feeling pity for someone who was more resilient than I had anticipated. We decided to change the subject. I asked if she had bought gifts in the form of chocolates, clothes, or other items for her family back home.
Kiconco mentioned that she hadn’t informed anyone of her return and that no one expected her home. She added that even when she left for Saudi Arabia, she hadn’t told anyone because she was frustrated with the misery she had endured without help from relatives.
However, she did mention having bought some bags for her mother. I suggested it wasn’t enough and recommended she stop in downtown Kampala to buy clothes and school supplies for her children before traveling to Isingiro. I also advised her to spend wisely once she returned home.
Kiconco agreed. She then opened an envelope to calculate her money and determine how to spend it. Upon opening it, she realized her employer in Saudi Arabia had packed half her salary instead of the full amount.
At this point, Kiconco looked physically dejected and mentally distressed. She had been excited about landing at Entebbe Airport and proceeding directly to Isingiro, but I advised her against that plan, noting she had spent two days without sleep—one day organizing her boss’s house and another traveling and waiting at different airports for connecting flights.
She initially resisted my advice. I then asked if she had relatives in Kampala. Kiconco said she had sisters there but did not want them to know she was back in the country. I suggested she hire a simple hotel room to rest after all her exhausting travels. She accepted my advice and requested my contact information to help her with shopping for her children the following day.
Kiconco mentioned she had never been to Kampala before and only left Hoima to fly to Saudi Arabia; therefore, she was unsure where to buy things and how to navigate the roads. Kiconco took my contact details, and that was the end of our conversation. We boarded Oman Air and returned to Kampala.