The last time Penina Wanjiru saw her three-year-old daughter was through a video call in a fleeting moment that has since turned into months of silence, unanswered messages, and growing fear.

Today, the 31-year-old mother lives with the anguish of not knowing where her child is, or who is caring for her, as delays in a mandatory DNA test continue to stall efforts to reunite them.

Wanjiru left Bahati Sub-county in Nakuru County in 2019, full of hope for a better future. Like many other Kenyan women seeking domestic work in the Gulf, she believed the opportunity in Saudi Arabia would allow her to support her family, educate her children, and eventually build a stable life back home.

She secured a job through an agency that promised fair working conditions, and for a while, things seemed to go according to plan.

For nine months, she worked diligently despite long hours and homesickness. But her situation soon changed when her employer allegedly began mistreating her. She reported the matter to her recruitment agency, hoping to be transferred to a better household. Instead, she says, she was misled.

“They told me they had processed my travel and even gave me a ticket. I was so happy, only to be told at the airport that the ticket was fake. When I called my boss, they said they were done with me,” she recalls.

Stranded and without money, Wanjiru turned to fellow Kenyans in Saudi Arabia who took her in and helped her find another job. In 2021, her life took another unexpected turn when she became pregnant. Aware of the risks faced by migrant domestic workers, including job loss or punishment, she chose to keep the pregnancy a secret.

With the support of those hosting her, she delivered her baby at home with the help of a doctor and named her Precious. She raised her quietly, later enrolling her in a daycare while she returned to work, careful to keep her child out of the authorities’ sight.

However, in February 2025, her fragile stability collapsed. Police officers raided her residence, arresting her and her roommate. They were detained for several days before being transferred to a deportation facility.

While in custody, Wanjiru alerted Kenyan embassy officials about her daughter, who had been left at daycare. She says she pleaded with authorities not to deport her without the child.

“I begged them to let me go with my daughter, but I was beaten and forced to return home alone,” she says.

Wanjiru was deported in March 2025, leaving her daughter behind in Saudi Arabia under the care of a daycare attendant. Since then, communication has become increasingly difficult.

“I last spoke to her last month through a voice call. Now she doesn’t reply to my messages. I don’t even know where she is,” she says.

Back in Kenya, the 31-year-old has been grappling with emotional distress and financial hardship. Without documents proving her parental link, authorities have required a DNA test before any repatriation can begin. But the process has stalled, and her five-year ban from returning to Saudi Arabia has made matters worse.

She has made countless visits to government offices and appealed to leaders and human rights organizations, but progress has been slow.

“I came home with nothing. No job, no savings, and no child. It is the most painful thing a mother can go through,” she says.

Now, Wanjiru spends her days clinging to photos and videos of her daughter, the only memories she has left. Despite the uncertainty, she holds on to hope that one day she will be reunited with her child.

“I just want my daughter back. I want her to grow up at home, where she belongs,” she says.

wanjirukinuthia20@gmail.com

Bahati mum battles to reunite with daughter left in Gulf after deportation

Author Spotlight

Purity Kinuthia