International Women’s Day: Saira’s story

International Women’s Day is a day to celebrate women. For me, it is also a moment to reflect on what it means to be a woman who sought safety. I am not just a survivor, but a mother, a professional, a friend and a changemaker.

I am originally from Peshawar, a part of Pakistan near the border with Afghanistan. I lived there for more than 20 years before moving to the UK in 2018 with my ex-husband and our nine-month-old son on a work visa. From the outside, it looked like a good life: a lovely apartment in London, my husband had a good job. But behind the curtain, things were very different.

I was living in an unsafe and abusive marriage. Coming to an unfamiliar country made this even more challenging and isolating. I had no job, no family here and no support network.

I was alone with a young child, trying to survive in an environment that felt frightening and unpredictable.

Eventually, the police became involved. I’d never interacted with the police before in my life, and in those moments, I didn’t know who it was safe to trust. I was already living with constant abuse and felt trapped between two impossible options – stay or leave.

At one point, I booked a flight back to Pakistan, convinced that I’d be safer with my family. But whilst on that flight, I received a threatening message from my ex’s family. In that moment, everything became clear – it wasn’t safe to go home. I realised I had to protect my son. If I went back, I would likely be forced into the same situation – and I truly believe I might not be alive today.

So, I claimed asylum. I was moved from London to Rotherham, a place I’d never even heard of until I was told I was going there. On my first day, I just cried. I remained in asylum accommodation for two years whilst navigating two court cases – one in the family court, for custody of my son, and one in the immigration court, for my refugee status, all during the COVID pandemic.

On my second or third day in Rotherham, someone directed me to the British Red Cross for support. I had no money yet, as my asylum registration card hadn’t arrived. When I went there, I saw that many of the volunteers were also asylum-seekers. I immediately asked if I could help too.

I began helping with their social media, taking photos and videos for events. Then during COVID I volunteered at a church foodbank and as a telephone befriender, calling older people who were isolated in their homes. I also became involved with Apna Haq, a domestic abuse organisation in Rotherham that had once supported me. Eventually, I became a board member and later Chair of the Board of Directors. Bringing my lived experience into a role that helped other women made me so proud.

Volunteering helped me rebuild my confidence. Abuse had made me feel worthless, like a burden, whereas volunteering reminded me of all that I had to give.

Alongside volunteering, I was working hard to return to my career. Back home, I was a high school teacher and had engineering experience. But finding work as a refugee was extremely difficult. Even when I was legally allowed to work, employers would ask for documents I did not have. There are also practical barriers: once you begin earning, legal aid can stop. This could have led me to represent myself in court against my abuser.

In 2021, I joined a training programme called Tech Returners, and shortly after receiving refugee status, I was offered a role as a software engineer in Manchester. The timing felt almost divine.

Today, I am financially independent and able to support the charities that once supported me. I came to this country with two suitcases, and now I have a home. My workplace has supported me professionally and personally, understanding that I am also a single mother balancing work and care. That support has meant everything.

During my journey, I also struggled deeply with my faith and at times felt disconnected from God. I found a church where, for the first time in a long time, I felt safe and like I belonged. The people there became like family. They prayed for me, supported me and helped me reconnect spiritually in a way that felt healing. That community was one of the most powerful gifts I found in the UK.

This country has given me safety under the law and space to rebuild. It has helped me become more resilient and more confident – I now feel I can speak up, whether in court, in interviews or now, sharing my story.

I want people to understand this: becoming a refugee is not an identity. It is a circumstance. Nobody chooses it. Before displacement, refugees were professionals, parents, people with ambitions. We are not headlines or numbers.

Stories return people to their full shape, and when you hear my story, I hope you see more than a label. I’m a mother, a software engineer, a volunteer, a spiritual person – somebody who has rebuilt her life step by step.

International Women’s Day is about celebrating women. And that includes women who have been forced to flee and continue to lead with courage every day.

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UNHCR works with displaced women and girls to provide safety, leadership and opportunity, including preventing gender-based violence and supporting education and livelihoods. To find out more about our work with women and girls, please visit this page.

If you have lived experience of displacement and are interested in sharing your story, you can learn more about our Storytelling Programme here.