For five years, Moraa believed she was building a better future for her family.
In 2019, the Nyamira County mother made the difficult decision to leave Kenya and travel to Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, where she secured a job as a domestic worker. Like many Kenyans working in the Middle East, she hoped the sacrifice would lift her family out of hardship.
Her goal was simple but deeply personal — build a decent bungalow for her husband and their two children back home.
Life in Saudi Arabia was far from easy. Moraa spent long days cleaning, cooking, and looking after children in her employer’s household. She missed birthdays, school milestones, and family gatherings. Still, every month she sent most of her salary home with clear instructions: the money was meant to build their house.
Over the years, the remittances reportedly added up to more than KSh 3 million.
While abroad, Moraa often imagined the progress taking place on their land in Nyamira — the foundation poured, walls rising, and a solid roof replacing the iron-sheet structure they once called home.
But when she returned to Kenya last month, the reality stunned her.
Standing on the plot was not the bungalow she had dreamed of. Instead, there was a tiny makeshift shelter constructed from rough timber, with a dirt floor and a polythene sheet loosely covering the roof. The structure looked temporary, barely enough to house a small family.
According to people familiar with the situation, Moraa’s husband struggled to explain what happened to the money. He reportedly told her the funds were spent on various personal needs and unsuccessful ventures.
Photos and posts about Moraa’s story have since circulated widely on social media, sparking heated discussion among Kenyans about trust, family responsibility, and the risks many migrant workers face.
For Moraa, the disappointment runs deeper than the unfinished house. Five years of separation, hard work, and hope now feel overshadowed by a dream that never materialized.