‘Going abroad is not a desire—it’s a compulsion’
KATHMANDU: Going abroad is rarely a choice born out of desire—it is often a decision forced by circumstances. Debt, poverty, and the future of one’s children weigh heavily, leaving little option but to leave home.
Sita Thapamagar of Mechinagar Municipality–8 embodies this reality. Her journey across Kuwait, Lebanon, and Saudi Arabia was less about opportunity and more a testament to struggle, pain, and resilience.
Sita was married at 16 in 2047 BS. By her early twenties, she had experienced motherhood with a son and daughter. Yet, before turning 25, incident struck—her husband passed away. Alongside the grief, Sita inherited the debts incurred during her husband’s medical treatment.
Left as the sole provider for her young children and in-laws, Sita saw no viable way to repay her debts in Nepal. In 2062 BS, she embarked on her first journey abroad through India and reached Kuwait on a visit visa, spending nearly Rs 20,000 just to get there.
In Kuwait, Sita worked as a domestic helper, earning roughly Rs 8,000 per month. The work was grueling: long hours, no rest, language barriers, and unsafe working conditions. Without any support system, she endured verbal abuse and mental stress. Yet, through sheer perseverance, she cleared her debts within four years and returned to Nepal.
Back home, Sita hoped to rebuild her life and care for her children. But as her children grew, so did their needs. The limited income in Nepal made it impossible to support her family fully. Learning from her earlier experience, she opted for legal channels and, in 2068 BS, spent Rs 60,000 to work in Lebanon through a manpower company.
In Lebanon, Sita cared for an elderly woman, earning Rs 15,000 per month. Life seemed manageable until tragedy struck again—her teenage son died suddenly in Nepal. Grief-stricken and unable to continue working, she returned home.
Despite personal loss, the responsibilities of life continued. Economic pressure once again pushed her abroad in 2013, this time to Saudi Arabia, where she worked as a hospital cleaner.
The physically demanding work took a toll on her health, and eventually, she developed a throat problem.
After months of treatment abroad, she returned to Nepal, where she was diagnosed with stage-two throat cancer at Bharatpur Cancer Hospital.
Sita’s treatment has already cost over Rs 1.4 million. Limited savings, ongoing family responsibilities, and medical follow-ups continue to challenge her. With the support of her youngest daughter working in the UAE and assistance from relatives, Sita persevered. After long months of struggle, she overcame cancer—but her journey remains fraught with challenges.
Sita learned about financial assistance for critically ill workers too late from the Foreign Employment Board, receiving only partial support through mandatory insurance. Today, she lives in a modest home on two kathha of land in Mechinagar–8, reflecting on her ordeal.
“Going abroad is not a desire—it’s a compulsion,” Sita says. “But anyone considering it must think carefully about their health and safety.”
Sita’s story is not just one woman’s struggle—it represents the shared reality of thousands of Nepalese migrant workers. Many leave in youth, sweat abroad for their family’s dreams, and return home older, burdened with illness, debt, and limited support. The lack of timely information and access to healthcare deepens their suffering.