The untold stories of Romanian women in the UK
Behind every immigrant's shy smile and sad eyes - there is a story.
Thousands of female immigrants leave their families and careers behind for a ‘better life’ in a foreign country.
But moving to the ‘land of milk and honey’ comes with its costs when you are a Romanian woman.
Almost half of million of Romanian nationals live in the UK and are only seasonal guests to their home countries and families, according to official statistics at the end of December 2019.
The figures reveal that Romanians are the second-largest group of EU citizens who applied for the EU settlement scheme, with over 435,000 foreign citizens expressing their intention to stay in the UK after Brexit.
However, for most immigrants living in the UK, the feeling of being apart from their families is a weight that they have to carry on their shoulders day by day.
In 2019, when thousands of Romanians could only dream about being with their beloved ones, a spark of hope lit up in Canary Wharf, London.
"Mi-e dor de tine" ("I miss you") is probably one of the most touching phrases known by struggle remember the last time they saw their children, friends and families.
Mostly because 'dor' can't be translated in English, and Romanians say it when the moment they are living is not complete, and the person they love the most is not there.
The artistic light installation powered by AROBS was then followed by "I miss you too" ("Si mie") message in Cluj, Romania and "I am waiting for you" ("Te astept") in Bucharest.
But all the lights in the world can't erase the pain of an immigrant mum who left their children behind.
Asked why they abandoned their home country to come here, most immigrants would say that money, corruption and the lack of opportunities they encountered in their forgotten land were the main reasons.
For women, a history of domestic abuse or failed marriages have driven them to ‘more civilised’ countries, where they can only hope for a better life.
“I wish we were not poor so my mum and I could be together”
- Iura, 9
On a Christmas night, more than a thousand miles from the UK, a Romanian 9-year-old was patiently writing one of his first ever letters to Santa Claus.
“I wish we were not poor so my mum and I could be together”, the letter read.
“Please, could you please make my wish come true?
"I want my mother back."
It has been months since his mum left him in Romania and flew to London in hope to find a job that could cover family’s costs.
Alina Iustina, a single mum of school boy Iura, can barely hold her tears remembering the depressing year when she moved to the UK to be able to provide for her son in Romania.
It was back in 2019, when the 30-year-old woman found herself in the position of being unable to pay for the rent.
“I was out of my savings, and I simply did not have money left to pay for our living”, she recalls.
“I knew that UK is a rich country where I could find a job, so I packed everything in two suitcases and left my child in Moldova, where my grandparents live.”
But when she arrived, the idyllic landscapes from the history books were nowhere to be found in one of London’s roughest areas.
“I remember I got into this neighbourhood in Chessington that looked very dodgy, people of all cultures being very loud and selling things in the middle of the street.
“It was something that I have never seen before because back in Romania I was used to live right in the city centre, surrounded by beautiful architecture.”
The reality of leaving her only child to move to a country where she was surrounded by strangers hit Alina in that very moment.
“I remember I was sat crying on my suitcases.
"People of different nationalities were passing me talking loudly, completely ignoring me.
“I was just another poor woman in an ocean of immigrants.”
She eventually got up and found the spare room she had booked in advance.
But the real journey was just about to begin when she started to look up for jobs.
“Back in Bucharest I was an importing coordinator for a company that was providing medical devices, so it was niche but very good job.
“In London however, I had to work as a waitress 52 hours a week to have enough money for my son and myself.
“I was taking a day off at the end of each month to go back to Romania to see my son.
“I remember I was exhausted, I could not sleep or eat - I just wanted to see my child.
“I did not want to see him suffer - but I know he did.”
The long distance motherhood was a draining experience for Alina, who could have only dreamed about having her child with her.
It was the coronavirus pandemic that turned monoparental family's destiny upside down.
She exhaled loudly and said: “When the pandemic happened, things have dramatically changed for our family.
“All the flights to Romania got canceled and my grandmother took my child and went back to Moldavia because she was frightened to remain in a foreign country during the pandemic.
“My child was very stressed and anxious about the whole situation - he cried every day.”
After multiple failed attempts to book a flight to Romania, the heartbroken mum finally found one to a neighbouring country, Bulgaria.
Once arrived in Sofia, she took a taxi that left her just before the border with Romania, near the Danube bridge.
The customs were restricting traffic during lockdown, meaning that Alina had to cross the bridge on foot, carrying two suitcases for five kilometers with trucks racing on the road.
“When I arrived at the custom they told me that I had six hours to arrive to my destination and isolate”, she says.
“But I had to go to a different custom, the North-East one to pick my child from Moldavia and bring him back with me, in Bucharest.”
Her father brought her child to the Moldavian custom, while Alina was begging the officers to let the child pass the border without a power of attorney document.
After a relentless couple of days, the mum and child were finally reunited, waiting for a taxi at the Romanian custom.
“I was dead, absolutely exhausted.
"It was 2am after I did not sleep just to get my child back.
“I was having hallucinations because at that point I did not sleep for three days.
"It was a taxi that came all the way from Bucharest to the custom and back again with my child and I.”
Back at home in Bucharest, holding her little boy Iura, she promised herself that she will never leave her child alone again.
“I realised that I was not happy to be a waitress in London while my child is in Romania”, she says.
In just a few weeks, she made all the documents required to transfer her son to a school in London.
But she did not stop here. Alina has also passed her English exams to apply to university.
Now, she has a boyfriend and works three shifts a week, leaving her enough time to study for a degree in Biomedical Science.
“My Italian boyfriend and ex-husband are nothing alike - my current partner and I share the house duties and I am now very happy.
“In a year I managed to bring my child here and that is what matters the most.
“When he wrote that letter back on Christmas my heart broke into pieces.
“These children that we leave behind suffer a lot.
"There was a tremendous effort on my part to make it all possible, but I did it all for him.”
Whether it is due to the lack of money or falling behind in a broken system, many women share similar experiences to Alina’s - going above and beyond for a 'better life' in the UK.
Mum of 'many angels' came to the UK to keep her daughter alive
Diana Blaj, a former English teacher in Romania, left the country pushed by one sole motivation: to keep her daughter alive.
It was back in 2009 when she was told by a doctor that the medical system will eventually fail to meet her daughter’s needs.
Larisa, just 14 at the time, was suffering from cystic fibrosis, a genetic system that would cause thick sticky mucus to build up in the lungs, digestive system and other organs.
“I was told that in London there is a higher chance to have a pulmonary transplant, so I left two weeks after having that discussion”, says Diana remembering doctor's verdict that changed her life forever.
“In the first year I came here by myself, without Larisa because I wanted to make sure that I could find good accommodation and get in contact with someone at the hospital.
“It was a horrible year - it was very hard because I knew she was not well.
“My mum was looking after her and her doctor was very competent.
"But I knew I had to make this huge step because there was no other option”, she recalls.
Diana was working as a nanny for various rich families in London who helped her getting an accession worker card.
She says she has always dreamed about living in the famous capital, and was lucky enough to find a spare room in the heart of the city, near the BBC building.
In the next year, she managed to bring Larisa to the UK and transferred her to a school where she made 'tons of friends'.
The mum and daughter, now reunited, spent three years together in the ‘country of royals, queens and princesses’, believing they left their misfortune behind.
But that was way too far from the truth.
“Larisa’s situation worsened, so we put her name on a waiting list for a transplant", says Diana trying to hide her tears.
“Without any warnings, her system failed and she did not get the chance to have it.”
Larisa died out of the sudden, aged 18, leaving behind a grieving mother who struggled to find a reason 'to be alive' for many years.
With every day that passed, Diana was feeling her daughter’s absence more and more.
Until one day, when she decided to leave the place where the memories of her daughter were haunting her life: “My partner and I made the decision to move somewhere else.
“I closed my eyes and put my finger randomly on a map – and it was Nottingham.
“We bought a house in Nottingham and we came here. We had a horrible year because I was not able to do anything.
“I was pulled out of the system - but I then said to myself that I need to find my inner strength and learn how to adapt.”
Diana, 55, started to work as an interpreter in Nottingham, becoming a key-person in Romanian and Roma communities.
Within months, she gained the trust from many families and set up a charity to help vulnerable immigrants.
“May people here were vulnerable and exposed to exploitation because they were struggling with linguistic and cultural barriers.
“With the support from Nottingham City Council’s Cohesion Team I set up this charity - Roma Support Nottingham - which aims to help them.”
Here, in Nottingham, she saw her daughter in every vulnerable girl who lost their way into drug addiction and prostitution from an early age.
In 2016, Diana joined POW - a non-profit, voluntary organisation aimed to protect the rights of sex workers and those at risk of being exploited.
“I remained speechless when a young Romanian girl, aged 19, told me she ended up injecting herself with heroine because she was sick of being alive.
“She was a sex worker, and her parents disowned her when they found out.
“I talked to her mum, and simply told her that I would give anything just to speak with my daughter again.
“In two days she rang her and told her to come back home.”
As Diana further explains, prostitution is not 'easy money' - but for many Romanian women it is the quickest and most effective way to earn enough for their families.
Learn more about the myths around Romanian sex workers in the podcast below.
Most immigrants who are sex workers, however, get lost in the process.
Former victim of prostitution, Latifa (not her real name), was only 14 when she fell in love with her boyfriend.
It was not until they went on a trip to Spain when she realised that her teenage lover was indeed a trafficker.
When she finally managed to escape from her trafficker's cage, she thought she has found peace in another man's arms who she got pregnant with at 17.
The father of her child was 'very abusive', but she did not leave him until she found out that he was cheating on her with another woman.
Latifa travelled to Leicester, then to Nottingham, returning into the sex industry for a while.
The woman’s unbelievable past left her with a child that she has not seen in ten years and scars that will take forever to heal.
The heartbroken mum, now 28, has spoken out about the experience of working as a prostitute in the UK and Spain and struggling with drug addiction and alcoholism from an early age.
Today, Latifa lives in Nottingham and is looking for a 'real job', desperately trying to erase who she used to be.
"Many are still judging me", she says.
"Without knowing the whole story."
You are not alone.
Several organisations across the UK have reached out to vulnerable Romanians who are at risk of being exploited.
If in doubt, contact:
POW
My Romania Community
Romanian Society East Midlands
The Romanian and Eastern European Hub
