Self/Life Lessons
Expat’s Wife Dilemma (Part 5)
Her husband left her stranded in a foreign country’s airport — Faith’s comeback story after twenty-nine years.
Asa left his wife, Faith, a mother of four children, stranded in a foreign country’s airport. Expat’s Wife dilemma!
Often, I experienced and felt uncomfortable with the job, and I usually closed my eyes and remembered the women who took me in — I liked and enjoyed the women I lived with; they were kind and sincere.
As days flew, the job continued to be frustrating and tedious. Then, I humbly called my mom and shared some of my new life with her.
Read part 4 here.
I called my mom to share more about my new life and suggested she shouldn’t tell my dad. Why? My dad didn’t like Asa that much because of his background.
I got lucky again; the on-call registered nurse, Gabby, took me out for lunch. She told me her inspirational story, and I was even more humbled and appreciative of my complicated life. She wrote down the requirements for admission to become a registered nurse in a community hospital. It was a straightforward requirement and almost free if I chose to work in a rural area in NY for three years after graduation.
However, the nursing aide job changed me and gave me hope. I struggled, frustrated, for a few weeks, but my children’s faces and the remarkable comeback stories of others kept me going.
I sailed through a few months on the home care job, and one morning, I saw a job opening in a nearby community health center. I went there, and they said they needed a nursing assistant. After speaking with the receptionist, he asked me to talk with the manager. The manager said she would hire me, but I needed a certification within three months.
I got the job and certification within six weeks. I had a BS (economics) and a few days of experience in the local clinic.
I was happy that the nursing assistant job exposed me to clinical experience I didn’t have with home care, and I started looking for classes to take. Annita told me to take winter break classes because they were shorter.
The science classes were easy, too. One of my housemates was a registered nurse who helped me with the school materials.
Soon, I learned education was accessible and easier in the US because it was practical here. I knew that quickly and doubled my efforts.
I’m yet to decide which educational system is the best — Nigeria or the US.
Every day, my roommates and the house’s mother encouraged, assisted, and gave me hope. I did the same for them. No condition was permanent.
After I started with a nursing assistant job with decent pay, I called and told my parents a little more about my plight. But I told my mother-in-law everything because she immediately guessed what had happened to me and how she could help. Has she had a similar experience with her husband? She never divulged that information.
I told them I was looking for an apartment to rent to bring the children before my visa expired. My mother-in-law was a good woman who always supported me and my children.
After living with roommates for many months, I rented a studio apartment. I left to create space for the new woman who came a month ago. I had the money to do so, and in my culture, three months is the maximum as a guest in people’s homes.
Before leaving, I helped some of my roommates with what they needed. I was so proud of our women helping women.
They had a party for me, and everyone was happy for me and told me never to forget them.
Mother Annita reminded me,
“I told you your case was the best because you have a work paper. Go in peace. Focus on yourself and your children. I love you so much. We shed tears of joy.”
After a few weeks, I was assigned to a sister clinic about ten miles from my current one.
My colleagues told me that the Nurse Practitioner (NP) in the clinic was a devil to work with and that she would make my life miserable. I heard all the stories and became worried because I was still dealing with my pain and didn’t want to add fire to my fragile soul.
I called Annita and told her what was happening. She suggested that I focus on myself when I get there and give the boss all due respect I can afford. Last, she advised me not to give her weapons or belittle my personhood.
Motherly advice, and I rehearsed her wisdom repeatedly in my head.
I walked into the clinic at 8 a.m. and met a medium-built, well-dressed professional — wearing a classic leopard loafer and a beautiful pink pearl necklace. A young NP looked somewhat worried with weak eye contact. She was the boss, and I was the lowest in rank. I greeted her. She didn’t say hello but lectured, “I like you’re here before time. We start at 8.30. I don’t take a lunch break because I must leave at 3:30 to get home for my kids. Would you like to work without lunch and go home at 3:30?”
A young NP looked somewhat worried with weak eye contact. She was the boss, and I was the lowest in rank.
Expat’s Wife dilemma!
The last part continues here.
Follow me here.