Between Hope and Hardship: How Labour Migration Is Reshaping the Lives of Young Ugandan Girls

For thousands of young Ugandan girls, labour migration offers a lifeline out of poverty, but it also exposes them to exploitation, separation, and silent suffering.

When Anitah Mwine boarded a flight out of Uganda one year ago, she was not chasing luxury or adventure. She was running from desperation.

Fresh from a painful separation, Anitah had been left to care for two young children after her husband ,the family’s sole breadwinner , moved on with another woman and withdrew all support. Though she holds a diploma in Education, Anitah had never formally worked. Soon after university, she had moved in with her husband, who encouraged her to focus on raising children while he provided.

When the relationship collapsed, so did her safety net.

Because they were not officially married, the law offered her little protection. Job applications across Uganda yielded nothing. With school fees unpaid and basic needs unmet, waiting was not an option.

Like thousands of young Ugandan women, Anitah made a life-altering decision. She left her children in the care of her mother in the village and travelled to the Middle East, to Oman, to work as a domestic worker, commonly referred to as a kadama.

“I do not regret my decision,” Peace says.
“There was nothing for me in Uganda. I can now pay school fees and meet my children’s basic needs.”

But the opportunity has come at a cost.

“I am overworked, I rarely rest, and I do not eat well. My health is getting worse, but I must finish my two-year contract before I can return home.”

The Economic Pull Few Can Resist

For many young women in rural Uganda, labour migration represents the most viable path to survival. A domestic worker in Uganda earns about UGX 150,000 per month, while similar work in cities such as Dubai can earn close to UGX 1 million, more than three times as much.

This wage gap has fuelled a steady flow of labour migrants. By late 2022, remittances from Ugandan migrant workers exceeded USD 1.2 billion, much of it from the Middle East. These funds support education, healthcare, housing, and entire households back home.

Internal migration tells a similar story.

“I came to Kampala to support my siblings,” says Amuru Harriet, a young woman from northern Uganda now working in the city’s hospitality sector.
“Life here is hard, but I manage to send something home every month.”

For many girls, migration, whether to Kampala or abroad, is not a choice but a necessity.

Yet the journey itself is often dangerous. Studies on rural–urban migration in Kampala show that young girls are exposed to sexual violence, deception, and exploitation, sometimes by individuals who promise help.

Once in the city, survival becomes another battle. Without shelter, family networks, or stable jobs, some girls are pushed into transactional sex or exploitative labour to meet basic needs.

Annah (not her real name), who hawks food in Kamokya, explains:

“When you fail to get a good job, you find yourself sleeping with men just to eat or send money home. It is risky and humiliating, but our families depend on us.”

Such coping strategies expose young women to health risks, abuse, and long-term trauma.

For girls who migrate abroad, the risks are often magnified. Human-rights organisations have documented widespread abuse of Ugandan women working in the Middle East, including overwork, withheld wages, physical abuse, and confinement under the kafala sponsorship system.

A migrant labour activist in Kampala describes the situation bluntly:

“This is not labour migration. This is modern slavery. Almost every day, Ugandan women report abuse.”

Despite government labour externalisation policies aimed at regulating recruitment and protecting workers, exploitation remains widespread. Many women return home traumatised, with little access to counselling, compensation, or reintegration support.

Government and civil society actors are increasingly acknowledging both the opportunities and dangers of labour migration. The Ministry of Gender, Labour and Social Development has prioritised improving worker traceability and data systems.

Organisations such as the Platform for Labour Action continue to provide safe-migration training, legal support, and rights education, helping young women make informed decisions.

A Delicate Balance

Labour migration has transformed lives, giving many young Ugandan girls financial independence, confidence, and hope. But for too many, it also brings exploitation, isolation, and risk.

Ensuring safe, dignified, and well-regulated migration, through strong laws, ethical recruitment, pre-departure training, and post-return support, is essential if the promise of migration is to outweigh its perils.

For girls like Anitah Mwine, the journey continues, suspended between sacrifice and survival, hope and hardship.