This is how it all began.I joined an agency that recruits house-help for foreigners: Indians, White people, and all types of people who are not Nigerians. Even though the agency also services some Nigerian homes, they are mostly focused on foreigners. To apply for the agency costs N50, 000 which will then be deducted from your salary in the first few months they allocate you to a household.

They take N10, 000 per month from your salary until it is fully paid. I had done house-help work for some Nigerians but there was always trouble. It’s either they won’t pay you, they won’t feed you, or they will accuse you of doing things you never did. So I should try foreigners? The family I was sent to lives in an estate on Victoria Island, Lagos. They are Indians and they had two small children; a boy and a girl that I took out for walks in the evenings.

Everything was going fine for the first few weeks. I loved the children. The madam was good to me.
Though their English was not too good, so many times I communicated in pidgin and they tried to understand me because even though I do not speak English well. I was given a room close to the kitchen but the room had no window…I think maybe it was meant as a store. Anyway, because it had no window, I always left the door slightly open for air. And many times when I am changing, the husband would just be passing by and looking in. So there was no privacy.

Money was good


I didn’t mind. I was going to be earning N40, 000 per month. Though the agency will take N10, 000 for the next few months as their agency fee. As far as I was concerned, it was a good deal. The last place I worked, I earned N20, 000 monthly and I worked from Sunday to Sunday. With this one, the Indian, I was given one day off any day I chose or agreed with my bosses. So it worked well for me…at first.

Then the husband began to come into my room at night. I was afraid and didn’t even know what to do, scream or shout. I just told him if his wife found out, I would be sent away. He would ask to see my breasts, he would ask me to pull up my skirts…you know all those things. And you know, in my mind, telling him about his wife was just to tell him off. I had just got the job and hadn’t even done one full month. I was owing the agency and so I couldn’t afford to be sent away. It meant I would not get paid for the month. My siblings are depending on me.

My father in the village is depending on me. So I just had to be sensible.The husband would leave and tell me he would find a way to come back. One day, he went to work as usual; the wife too, she taught at one of their schools. So when the house was empty, I tidied up. They always locked their room, what I did was go shopping for the wife. She always gave me a list and the cost attached and I must bring back a receipt.

Work wasn’t even much


That one wasn’t work, now. I only tidied the children’s room and one other room. But when they returned, I was allowed to go to their room to clean it up. The door would be open while I cleaned the room…you understand? I was still tidying up one day when the husband came back to the house. At first, I was shocked because he had never came home like that before except after he closed from work. He told me that he had found a way to come home to me without his wife knowing.

Chai! I begged him that I wasn’t really in the mood. Do you know I told him that I was afraid people would report to his wife? I didn’t know what else to do. He just pulled me and we went to his children’s room and he had sex with me. Hmmn. This type of thing had happened to me before. The boss will want to sleep with me. And no matter how I beg or cry…they would threaten to fire me…I need the money. In my mind, I hoped this would be the last time but it wasn’t. It wasn’t. It went on and you know, as I said, the salary was good and he began to give me some gifts. He would buy me Ankara…not the expensive ones, o. One time, he changed my phone for me, he sometimes gave me money…N2k, N3k…small, small money that made a difference to me.


https://www.vanguardngr.com/2025/04/i-was-a-good-house-help-until-my-madams-husband-started-coming-for-me/