“They Sent Me Abroad as a Housemaid — But I Returned as the Owner of the Company They All Applied To”

“They Sent Me Abroad as a Housemaid — But I Returned as the Owner of the Company They All Applied To”

Written by RosyWorld CRN

“They said I was too dull for school, so they sent me to work as a maid overseas. But 15 years later, they stood in a queue — CVs in hand — waiting to be interviewed by me.”

PART 1: A TICKET WITH STRINGS

My name is Chidinma.

I was 17 when my uncle told me:

“There’s a family in Lebanon looking for a maid. They’ll pay you well. It’s better than being useless here.”

I had just failed WAEC once.

My mother had no money to register me again.

So when Uncle Emeka said he could get me a passport and visa, I thought it was salvation.

I didn’t know I was walking into servitude.

When I landed in Beirut, the madam took my phone.

Told me I could only speak when spoken to.

That my job was to clean, cook, and not get pregnant.

For two years, I worked 19 hours a day.

No off days.

No salary — they said they were “sending it home.”

But my mother never received a kobo.

I scrubbed floors.

Washed cold tiles with bare hands.

Sometimes, I slept beside the kitchen bin because the madam’s cat had more privileges than me.

But in the quiet of those nights, I whispered to myself:

“One day, I will walk into a room where people will rise — not because I’m rich, but because I rose above this.”

PART 2: THE ESCAPE AND THE KIND STRANGER

One night, Madam’s son tried to touch me while everyone was asleep.

I fought.

Screamed.

Got beaten.

The next day, I ran.

With nothing but a wrapper and my passport hidden in my bra.

I ended up at the Nigerian embassy.

After three months in a shelter with other girls like me, a Lebanese-Nigerian woman named Mrs. Laila came to speak to us.

She was a social worker and volunteer.

She listened to my story and said:

 “You’re not dumb. You just need a fresh start.”

She paid for my flight back to Nigeria.

Gave me her card and said:

“If you ever want to learn something, call me.”

PART 3: THE SEED SHE PLANTED

Back in Nigeria, I returned to my village — empty-handed.

People mocked me.

“She went abroad to wash toilet and came back with wrapper,” they laughed.

Even my uncle said:

“You failed abroad and failed here again. Useless girl.”

But I remembered Mrs. Laila.

I called her.

She told me about an online program for virtual assistants.

She paid my internet café bills.

Bought me a used laptop.

I studied day and night.

Within six months, I landed my first foreign client — a US-based life coach.

Then another.

And another.

I built a small brand: Chidi Virtual Services.

Then I added graphic design.

Then copywriting.

Soon, I had 5 freelancers under me.

Then 12.

PART 4: THE GLOBAL SHIFT

With consistent work, referrals, and digital skills, I expanded into HR outsourcing.

Started a remote talent agency connecting Nigerian freelancers with global clients.

Named it “Remote Switch Africa.”

Within 5 years, we had served over 300 clients in 8 countries.

I was invited to Ghana for a tech conference.

Then Kenya.

Then Dubai.

I used part of my earnings to open a skill hub in Nigeria — training young girls in tech.

Then one day, something unbelievable happened.

PART 5: THE INTERVIEW TABLE

I got an application from a man named Emeka I.

The name rang a bell.

I opened the CV.

It was my uncle.

The same man who sent me abroad to clean toilets.

Then two more applications came.

One from his daughter — the one who mocked me at the airport.

And another from a cousin who once said I’d “end up like the village goat.”

They were applying to my company for remote jobs.

I said nothing.

Instead, I invited them for physical interviews in Lagos — for senior support roles.

They came.

I walked into the boardroom.

Uncle Emeka’s eyes widened.

He whispered, “Chidinma?”

I smiled.

“Good morning. Welcome to RemoteSwitch Africa. I’m the CEO. Shall we begin?”

They couldn’t speak.

I gave them water.

Asked about their goals.

Just like I would any other candidate.

Then I said:

“I’m not hiring today. But I wish you well. Don’t give up.”

And I stood up and left.

PART 6: FROM MAID TO MENTOR

Today, Remote Switch Africa has trained over 2,000 Nigerians.

We’ve created jobs in the most unexpected villages.

I speak at UN summits.

I fund scholarships for girls who want to learn coding, copywriting, and digital marketing.

My favorite T-shirt reads:

 “Once a housemaid. Now a house name.”

And the last time I saw my uncle, he bowed and said,

“I wronged you, Chidinma. Please forgive me.”

I hugged him.

Not because he deserved it — but because I had outgrown the pain.

“They packed my dreams in a Ghana-Must-Go and sent me to scrub floors. But purpose rewrote my story — and now they all carry my name on their CVs.”