My name is Aminet Mary Adenugba and I am a victim of human trafficking.
I was brought to the UK from Nigeria in 2004 and was exploited and abused for three years. I managed to escape from that life but even after I ran away, many other people in this country misused me because I was alone and vulnerable. Now I am safe and I have friends here who protect me but it is still not safe for me to return to Nigeria. This is my story:
I was born into a Muslim family on November 20th 1970. My dad was a bus driver and my mum was a street trader. I had two brothers and two sisters and I was the oldest. We lived in Lagos. I went to the local school where there were both Muslims and Christians. All my friends were Christians and in my teens I decided to convert to Christianity. My dad, who had always been hostile to me from birth, was very angry but my mum protected me and tried to keep me safe. He and my brothers started to threaten me and I was forced to leave.
I went to live in a small flat and worked as a hairdresser. Then I met a man and found that I was pregnant. My father was furious; he said that I had brought shame on the family, but again my mother helped me. I gave birth to my baby daughter on June 22nd 1998.
One day, when my daughter was about three and half years old, I went to a wedding while my mother looked after her. While I was at the wedding, there was an explosion in Lagos in which my mum and sisters were killed. My little girl was never found. My father accused me of witchcraft and said I had brought this misfortune on the family. He said that I must die. I had to go into hiding.
A local church tried to help me but I was in a bad way: destitute, homeless, no job or money and my beloved mother dead and little girl gone. I tried to commit suicide. When I came out of hospital, the pastor introduced me to a local man, Uncle Kay. He was a respected member of the church. He said he would help to take me somewhere I would be safe. He gave me a new name and date of birth, and brought me to the UK.
In London I was forced to work as a prostitute. If there were no men to be serviced, I was made to work in a hair salon. I kept escaping but kept getting caught again. Uncle Kay shouted and starved me. Then he brought me to Manchester and gave me to Uncle Philip, a white English man.
Once again I was imprisoned and forced to work as a prostitute or used to clean offices or houses or work as a hairdresser. I was a slave.
Late one night, when we were out, Uncle Philip and I were approached by the police and I was taken to the police station. I was very scared and confused and harmed myself. I was too frightened to tell them about the trafficking. The police released me after telling me to claim asylum at Dallas Court, but I didn’t understand what that meant. I was frightened that Uncle Philip would find me. After leaving the police station, I met some people who took me in but they started exploiting me. This happened several times because I was destitute and very vulnerable. It went on for three years.
Then I met some people at RAPAR who helped me to help myself. They found me a safe place to live, put me in touch with the Poppy Project and assisted me in writing my story.
- Mary Adenugba
I was brought to the UK from Nigeria in 2004 and was exploited and abused for three years. I managed to escape from that life but even after I ran away, many other people in this country misused me because I was alone and vulnerable. Now I am safe and I have friends here who protect me but it is still not safe for me to return to Nigeria. This is my story:
I was born into a Muslim family on November 20th 1970. My dad was a bus driver and my mum was a street trader. I had two brothers and two sisters and I was the oldest. We lived in Lagos. I went to the local school where there were both Muslims and Christians. All my friends were Christians and in my teens I decided to convert to Christianity. My dad, who had always been hostile to me from birth, was very angry but my mum protected me and tried to keep me safe. He and my brothers started to threaten me and I was forced to leave.
I went to live in a small flat and worked as a hairdresser. Then I met a man and found that I was pregnant. My father was furious; he said that I had brought shame on the family, but again my mother helped me. I gave birth to my baby daughter on June 22nd 1998.
One day, when my daughter was about three and half years old, I went to a wedding while my mother looked after her. While I was at the wedding, there was an explosion in Lagos in which my mum and sisters were killed. My little girl was never found. My father accused me of witchcraft and said I had brought this misfortune on the family. He said that I must die. I had to go into hiding.
A local church tried to help me but I was in a bad way: destitute, homeless, no job or money and my beloved mother dead and little girl gone. I tried to commit suicide. When I came out of hospital, the pastor introduced me to a local man, Uncle Kay. He was a respected member of the church. He said he would help to take me somewhere I would be safe. He gave me a new name and date of birth, and brought me to the UK.
In London I was forced to work as a prostitute. If there were no men to be serviced, I was made to work in a hair salon. I kept escaping but kept getting caught again. Uncle Kay shouted and starved me. Then he brought me to Manchester and gave me to Uncle Philip, a white English man.
Once again I was imprisoned and forced to work as a prostitute or used to clean offices or houses or work as a hairdresser. I was a slave.
Late one night, when we were out, Uncle Philip and I were approached by the police and I was taken to the police station. I was very scared and confused and harmed myself. I was too frightened to tell them about the trafficking. The police released me after telling me to claim asylum at Dallas Court, but I didn’t understand what that meant. I was frightened that Uncle Philip would find me. After leaving the police station, I met some people who took me in but they started exploiting me. This happened several times because I was destitute and very vulnerable. It went on for three years.
Then I met some people at RAPAR who helped me to help myself. They found me a safe place to live, put me in touch with the Poppy Project and assisted me in writing my story.
- Mary Adenugba
Donate to Mary's Campaign!
Sign the Petition
Write Letters of Support for Mary
Donate to RAPAR