How I Survived the Desert by Drinking Water Meant for Camels, Donkeys—Nigerian Mother

For Victoria Abosede, a 28-year-old single mother of two from Ori-Ade Local Government Area in Osun State, the search for a better life took a harrowing turn that would change her forever. In a haunting recollection of her ordeal, Victoria has revealed how she survived a one-month journey across the Sahara Desert, drank from the same water source as camels and donkeys, and endured months of abuse, imprisonment, and betrayal while working as a domestic maid in Libya.

She left Nigeria in January 2024 with hopes of earning enough money to support her children after separating from her husband. “I wanted to work for three years and come back to start a business,” she said. But her journey became a nightmare from the very beginning.

From Kano State, she and other migrants were packed “like cows” in the back of a pickup truck headed for Niger Republic. Some people fell off the vehicle and died along the way. “We spent seven days in Niger before entering the Libyan desert,” she said.

In the desert, there was no clean water or food. “We drank from petrol kegs and chased camels and donkeys away to scoop water from muddy ponds,” she recounted. For four days, they slept on the bare sand, moving from one ghetto to another, changing trucks while dodging border patrols. Many died from hunger, dehydration, or exposure.

When she arrived in Libya, her situation did not improve. Assigned to work as a maid in an Arab household, Victoria was overworked, malnourished, and verbally abused. “I woke up at 9am and slept at 2am. I worked all day — cleaning, washing, mopping — and still had to take care of their son, which wasn’t part of the job,” she said.

She moved between three different employers in one year. At one point, when she complained to her agent, he threatened to sell her to another household. “Agents sell us like property once they’ve been paid.”

Despite working endlessly, she hadn’t finished repaying her agent when she was arrested by Libyan police for not having a passport. Her boss didn’t intervene. “He said he looked for me, but I never saw him. I was left to rot in prison,” she said.

Victoria spent more than four months in a Tripoli prison. “We had only bread and rice — once at 4pm and again at 11pm. It wasn’t enough to feed a child,” she said. The prison was overcrowded — up to 1,000 women in a single hall. “There were pregnant women, elderly people, and children. Some gave birth in prison. A four-year-old boy even died there.”

She says the Nigerian Embassy offered little support. “Only the International Organization for Migration (IOM) brought us sanitary pads, soaps, and towels. The embassy just asked if we wanted to go home.”

She was finally deported on March 18, 2025, alongside over 150 others.

Upon return, the IOM and Nigerian government offered a few days of orientation in a Lagos camp and promised to support deportees with small businesses. “I was told they’ll assist me with a food business or selling first-grade secondhand clothes,” she said.

But the trauma remains. “I regret leaving Nigeria. Even before reaching Libya, I knew I had made a terrible mistake.”

Victoria blames poverty, false promises by agents, and a lack of public awareness. “They tell us we’ll earn ₦500,000 a month, but in reality, it’s only ₦200,000 — and that goes straight to the agents.”

Her advice to young women considering the journey is direct: “Don’t do it. Stay in Nigeria. Libya is not a place for anyone, not even a rat in my family.” She also called on the Nigerian government to increase awareness and crackdown on human trafficking networks.

Despite everything, Victoria remains hopeful. “It’s been the grace of God keeping me. I just want to rebuild my life and take care of my children.”