The air was thick with heat as Eunice stepped out of the King Khalid International Airport in Riyadh. The vast expanse of the city stretched before her, a maze of shimmering buildings under an unforgiving sun. She clutched her suitcase tightly, her nerves twisting with every step.
"This is it," she murmured to herself, trying to push back the overwhelming tide of emotions.
Waiting for her was Fatima, a representative from the agency Joyce had helped her connect with. Fatima, a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and a polite smile, greeted her warmly.
"You're Eunice, right? Welcome to Saudi Arabia," Fatima said, her voice smooth but brisk. "I'll take you to your employer's house. It's a good family. Very traditional, but they're kind if you do your job well."
Eunice nodded silently, her heart pounding as she followed Fatima to the car. This wasn't just a new chapter; it was an entirely different book.
The Al-Farhan villa loomed before her, an imposing structure with high gates, marble walls, and manicured gardens. The sheer grandeur of it left Eunice momentarily breathless.
Fatima guided her inside, where they were met by the matriarch of the family, Layla Al-Farhan, an elderly woman with kind eyes but a frail frame. Layla extended a hand, her Arabic soft and lilting.
"She says she is happy to have you," Fatima translated. "And she hopes you will treat this house as your own."
Eunice forced a smile and replied, "Thank you. I will do my best."
Her room was small but comfortable, a stark contrast to the vastness of the villa. That night, Eunice lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The weight of her decision to leave Kenya, to escape the life that seemed determined to crush her, pressed heavily on her chest.
Over the next few weeks, Eunice settled into her new role. Her days revolved around caring for Layla—helping her with meals, assisting her during prayer times, and providing companionship. Layla rarely spoke directly to Eunice, but her gentle demeanor was comforting.
Yet, the cultural differences were a steep learning curve. Eunice fumbled through moments of misunderstanding, her nerves often frayed by the strict expectations of her employers. Amal, Layla's granddaughter, became her unexpected lifeline.
"You look lost," Amal teased one evening, leaning against the kitchen counter as Eunice washed dishes.
Eunice smiled faintly. "It's just… different here. Everything is different."
Amal tilted her head, her gaze curious. "What made you leave your home?"
The question hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. Eunice hesitated, unwilling to reveal the mess she'd left behind. "I wanted a better life. For my mother."
Amal didn't press further but offered a reassuring smile. "You'll find your way. It takes time, but you'll adjust."
Nights, however, were harder. Alone in her small room, Eunice's thoughts often drifted to Kenya. She thought of Joyce, whose unwavering support had pushed her to take this leap. She thought of her mother's tearful goodbye at the village, the words of advice she'd whispered as they embraced.
"Be safe, my daughter. Trust in God, and He will guide you," her mother had said, her frail hands trembling as they clutched Eunice's.
But most of all, Eunice thought of Mercy and Peter. Mercy's venomous glare haunted her dreams, and Peter's betrayal played in her mind like a cruel melody.
Months turned into a year, and Eunice's work ethic began to pay off. The Al-Farhan family grew fond of her, even entrusting her with additional responsibilities. Eunice sent money home regularly, her heart lifting every time her mother called to say how much it was helping.
But even as her surroundings grew familiar, Eunice felt a hollowness inside her. Layla noticed. One evening, as they sat together in the quiet of the living room, Layla reached for Eunice's hand.
In halting English, Layla said, "You… carry pain. Heavy heart."
Eunice blinked, startled. "What do you mean?"
Layla smiled gently. "Forgive. Allah forgives. You forgive, too."
The words struck a chord deep within Eunice. She had buried her guilt, her shame, but they were never far from the surface.
By the time her two-year contract was over, Eunice had saved enough to return to Kenya and fulfill her promise to her mother. Standing at the airport, she felt a mix of relief and trepidation.
The reunion with her mother was everything she'd hoped for. Eunice handed over the deed to a small plot of land she'd purchased, watching tears of gratitude stream down her mother's face.
"You've done well, my child," her mother said, her voice choked with emotion.
Eunice smiled, her chest swelling with pride. "This is just the beginning, Mama."
With the remaining savings, Eunice opened a bakery , naming it Sweet Beginnings. For a time, she believed she had left her past behind. But life, as always, had other plans.