April 14, 2026

Sarah’s Story: From Rights to Restrictions

Prior to 2012, Overseas Domestic Workers in the UK had stronger rights. They could renew their visas, apply for settlement after five years, and bring their families. By the time I arrived in December 2017, these protections had been removed. Visas were limited to six months, workers were tied to their employers, and there was no route to settlement. This increased the risk of exploitation and left many, including me, feeling trapped, anxious, and unable to speak up. 

When I arrived, I worked long hours in isolation. My passport was withheld, my movements were controlled, and I did not know my rights. At the same time, my mother was seriously ill back home, and I had no money to support her. I felt mentally and physically exhausted. Everything began to change when I was identified as a survivor of modern slavery and later received a positive conclusive grounds decision in the National Referral Mechanism. For the first time, I had the right to work and begin rebuilding my life. 

However, the two-year Modern Slavery visa brought both relief and uncertainty. While it allowed me to work, it was not renewable, leaving me constantly worried about what would happen next. Without long-term security, many workers remain at risk of re-trafficking, especially when they have no legal right to stay or work. 

What needs to change is clear. Domestic Workers need longer-term, renewable visas, the right to change employers freely, and the ability to switch visa routes. Without this, workers can become undocumented, increasing vulnerability to control, threats, and further exploitation. Domestic workers do far more than household tasks. We care for children, the elderly, and people with disabilities. We care for lives, and we deserve dignity and protection. 

Despite everything, my journey did not end in silence. Over time, fear began to turn into courage, and isolation into connection. I pushed myself to learn English, attend church, and engage with others. When I connected with Kalayaan, I learned about my rights and met others with similar experiences. That is when I began to see myself not just as someone who survived, but as someone rebuilding and growing. 

Thriving does not mean the past disappears. It means the past no longer controls me. 

To every domestic worker who feels afraid or alone, you are not alone. We are here to support one another. Our stories are different, but our strength is shared. Together, we turn pain into power. Keep going, and do not lose hope.