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- author, Sofia Bettiza
- To roll, Global health reporter in Trieste, Italy
Esther was sleeping on the streets of Lagos when a woman approached her promising to get her out of Nigeria and take her to Europe, with a job and accommodation.
I dreamed of a new life, especially in the UK. Kicked out of a violent and abusive foster home, she had little to hold on to. Leaving Lagos in 2016 and crossing the desert to Libya in North Africa, I could not imagine the traumatic journey I would face, marked by sexual exploitation and years of asylum requests in different countries.
The majority of irregular immigrants and asylum seekers are men – 70%, according to the European Asylum Agency (EUAA) – but the number of women like Esther, arriving on the continent in search of protection, is increasing.
“We are seeing an increase in the number of women traveling alone, both on the Mediterranean and Balkan routes,” says Irini Contogiannis of the NGO International Rescue Committee in Italy.
The entity’s 2024 report recorded a 250% annual increase in the number of unaccompanied adult women arriving in the country via the Balkan route, one of the main migration routes to Europe, while the total number of families increased by 52%.
Migration routes are notoriously dangerous. In 2024, the International Organization for Migration (IOM), an agency of the United Nations (UN), counted 3,419 immigrant deaths or disappearances in Europe, the deadliest year on record.
For women, there is an additional risk of sexual violence and exploitation, as happened with Esther after she was betrayed by someone who had promised her a better life.
“She locked me in a room and took a man. He had sex with me by force. I was still a virgin,” Esther said. “That’s what they do… they go around villages in Nigeria picking up girls, taking them to Libya and turning them into sex slaves.”
“Their experiences are different and often riskier,” Ugochi Daniels of the IOM told the BBC. “Even women who travel in groups rarely receive consistent protection, leaving them vulnerable to abuse by coyotes, traffickers or other immigrants.”
Many women are aware of the risks, but continue to travel with condoms or contraceptives in case they are raped en route.
“All immigrants have to pay a smuggler,” explains Hermine Gbedo, of the Stella Polare anti-trafficking network. “But women are often expected to offer sex as payment.”
Gbedo supports immigrants in Trieste, a port city in northeastern Italy that has long served as a transit point and main gateway to the European Union for those crossing the Balkans. From there, they head to countries like Germany, France and the United Kingdom.
Credit, Barbara Zanon/Getty Image
After four months of exploration in Libya, Esther flees and crosses the Mediterranean Sea aboard an inflatable boat. She was rescued by the Italian coast guard and taken to the island of Lampedusa, closer to the coast of Tunisia (Africa) than Italy (Europe). She applied for asylum three times before being granted refugee status.
Applicants from countries considered safe often have their applications rejected. At the time, Italy classified Nigeria as dangerous, but changed its assessment two years ago, amid tougher migration rules across Europe following the 2015-2016 mass influx. Since then, pressure for new restrictions has only increased.
“It is impossible to maintain mass migration, it is impossible,” says Nicola Procaccini, a deputy in the right-wing government of Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni. “We can guarantee a safe life for women who are truly in danger, but not for all.”
“We have to be rational,” says Rakib Ehsan, a senior fellow at the conservative think tank Policy Exchange. “We must prioritize women and girls who are at immediate risk in conflict-affected territories, where rape is used as a weapon of war. »
Today, this does not happen systematically, Ehsan explains. Although he declares solidarity with women facing dangerous routes to Europe, he says “the key is controlled compassion.”
But many women arriving from countries considered safe report that they suffered abuse because they were women and that this made it impossible for them to stay in their country of origin.
This was the case of Nina, 28 years old, from Kosovo (southeast Europe).
“People think everything is fine in Kosovo, but that’s not true,” he says. “Things are terrible for women.”
Nina says she and her sister were sexually assaulted by their boyfriends, who forced them to engage in sexual exploitation.
A 2019 report from the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) indicates that 54% of women in Kosovo have experienced psychological, physical or sexual violence from their intimate partner since the age of 15.
According to the Istanbul Convention of the Council of Europe, women persecuted for gender-based violence have the right to asylum. The standard was strengthened by a landmark ruling by Europe’s top court in 2024. The Convention defines gender-based violence as psychological, physical and sexual, including female genital mutilation (FGM).
However, the terms are still not applied uniformly, according to supporting organizations.
“Many asylum officers in the field are men without sufficient training to deal with such a delicate subject (like female genital mutilation), both from a medical and psychological point of view,” explains Marianne Nguena Kana, director of the European network End FGM.
She adds that applications are refused based on the erroneous assumption that because these women have already undergone FGM, they are no longer at risk. “We heard judges say: ‘You’ve already been mutilated, so it’s not dangerous to return to your country, because they can’t do that to you anymore,'” he reports.
Credit, International Rescue Committee
In cases of sexual violence, says Carenza Arnold of the British organization Women for Refugee Women, proof is generally more difficult, because the abuse does not leave visible traces like physical torture, and cultural taboos make reporting even more complex.
“Women are often rushed through the process and may not disclose to the immigration officer that they have just encountered the sexual violence they experienced,” Arnold says.
According to the International Organization for Migration (IOM), much of the violence women face occurs while traveling. “Women are usually fleeing sexual violence committed by their partners in their home country and, along the way, find themselves confronted with the same thing again,” says Daniels.
This is what happened to Nina and her sister when they fled their former companions from Kosovo to Italy. Traveling with other women, they crossed the forests of Eastern Europe trying to avoid the authorities. Along the way, they reported being attacked by immigrant men and smugglers.
“Even in the mountains, in the dark, we could hear screams,” Nina remembers. “The men came with flashlights, shined light on our faces, chose who they wanted and took them into the forest. At night, I could hear my sister crying and asking for help.”
Nina and her sister told Italian authorities they would be killed by their ex-boyfriends if they returned to Kosovo and were granted asylum.
Esther’s fight for protection was longer. She first applied for asylum in Italy in 2016, but after a long wait, she traveled to France and then Germany, where her requests were refused. According to the European Union’s Dublin Regulation, the asylum application must be presented in the first European country of entry.
Esther obtained refugee status in Italy in 2019.
Nearly a decade after leaving Nigeria, she wonders if her current life in Italy has made up for the suffering she experienced along the way: “I don’t even know why I came here.”
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