18/07/2025
MY MASTER MADE HIS D0GS DO IT WITH ME
Episode 2
Sabina was a young mother who lived in Tanzania. She had a little daughter, Amina, and an old mother who was very sick.
Every morning, she woke up before the sun, stepping outside into the cool, fresh air, selling mangoes and anything she could lay her hands on just to feed her family.
Her home was very simple, made of mud bricks with a thin roof that rattled when the wind blew too hard. Inside, her mother lay on a thin mattress, coughing softly, her body weak from illness.
Sabina would sit beside her, holding her hands, whispering words of comfort, but she knew love alone could not buy her mother's medicine.
Amina was just six years old. She would come running to her, barefoot and full of energy. "Mama, I'm hungry," she would say, rubbing her small stomach.
Sabina would smile, touching her daughter's cheek. "Wait, my love. I will make something." Then she would step outside to the cooking area, where a small fire burned under a blackened pot. Some mornings there was enough. Other mornings, she would be left boiling water, hoping the little flour she had would be enough to fill their stomachs.
She worked hard every day, washing clothes for the village women, selling fruits at the market, doing anything she could to make money.
But no matter how much she worked, it was never enough. Medicines were expensive, school fees were very high, and food… Ha! Some days they barely had anything to eat.
At night, she would sit outside staring at the moon, listening to the distant sounds of laughter from other houses—families with full bellies, children who would go to school the next day without worry. She wanted that life for her daughter, Amina.
Then she heard about the jobs in Saudi Arabia. Women from the village had gone before her. They sent money home, built new houses, and gave their families a better life. "It is good work," they said. "You clean, you cook, and they pay you very well."
Sabina thought about it for days, lying awake at night, staring at the wooden ceiling, listening to her mother's soft breathing. Could she really leave? Could she leave Amina behind? But what choice did she have?
One evening, she sat beside her mother and spoke softly, "Mama, I want to go to Saudi Arabia for work."
Her mother's tired eyes opened, searching Sabina's face. "It won't be easy," she whispered.
Sabina nodded. "I know, Mama."
Her mother sighed, reaching out to hold her hands. Her fingers were thin and frail. "If you must go, my child, go. But promise me one thing: you must be very careful."
Sabina swallowed hard, forcing a small smile. "I will, Mama. I promise."
That night, after putting Amina to bed, she sat in the quiet, white darkness, listening to the wind outside. She had made her decision. She would go—for Amina, for her mother, no matter what awaited her on the other side.
Sabina was very excited to travel to a new city. She had never left Tanzania before, never imagined stepping onto an airplane, never thought she would see a land so different from her own.
Her journey started with a long, bumpy bus ride from her village to the capital city, where she would board the plane. She pressed her forehead against the window, watching the dry fields and mud houses disappear behind her, feeling both nervous and hopeful.
At the airport, everything was bright and new. There were people everywhere, rushing, talking, and laughing in languages she didn't understand. She held her small bag tightly, repeating in her mind: "This is for Mama. This is for Amina. This is for our future." The plane ride was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Floating above the clouds, she kept looking out of the window, thinking, Maybe this is what a better life looks like.
When she arrived in Saudi Arabia, the air was different—hot and dry, pressing against her skin like a heavy blanket. The city was filled with tall buildings, wide roads, and bright lights that never seemed to go out. She was taken to a small office where she met the family that had hired her.
The woman looked neat and serious, dressed in fine clothes. She spoke softly but firmly. "You will take care of our home," she said. "Cook, clean, and help with the children." The man standing beside her barely spoke. He only nodded, his dark eyes scanning Sabina from head to toe before turning away.
At first, everything seemed fine. The house was huge, with golden chandeliers, cold marble floors, and large, shining windows.
The children played and laughed, the kitchen smelled of rich spices, and the woman gave her clear instructions.
Sabina sent a message home that she was safe, that the house was big, and that the job was good.
But soon, things changed. The smiles disappeared, and the kindness faded. Sabina's days became endless work, from dawn until midnight. She was always scrubbing floors, washing clothes, preparing meals, and running after the children.
If she sat down for even a moment, the woman would snap at her, "No resting! You are here to work!" Her hands grew raw from scrubbing, and her back ached from carrying heavy baskets of laundry.
She ate only after the family had finished, and sometimes there was barely any food left for her.
Then the real nightmare began. Sabina started noticing how the man of the house watched her. At first, she tried to ignore it, thinking maybe she was imagining things.
But then one evening, when she was sweeping the hallway, she felt a presence behind her. Before she could turn, a hand brushed against her back. She froze.
He chuckled. "You work hard, don't you?"
She forced a nervous smile. "Yes, sir."
His fingers lingered on her shoulder. "Maybe you should come to my room later. I can teach you how to relax."
You can add me up Effua Coker
