Introduction
Domestic work constitutes a critical segment in the informal sector globally because it supports families (
Cheung 2014). Domestic workers (DWs) work part-time or full-time and live-in or live-out (
ILO 2017). The world has 75.6 million DWs, 76.2 per cent of whom are female and the majority of whom live-in (
ILO 2017). They, especially females, are under-protected in weak regulatory contexts like those in Africa, where traditionally gendered treatment foster injustice towards women and girls. Often exposed to abuse and restrictions to free movement, they endure long work hours, low wages, no specific days off, poor working conditions, limited legal protections, and social invisibility, making them vulnerable to exploitation and abuse (
ILO 2013;
Vassallo & Debono 2020). As temporary contracts replace permanent jobs (
Rupeika-Apoga et al. 2019), DWs get treated as temporary while performing as permanent staff, though rarely receiving benefits like insurance and gratuities. While DW is a global phenomenon, its dynamics vary significantly across regions and countries, often shaped by local cultural, economic, and regulatory environments. In Africa, the intersection of gender, class, and race has, over time, contributed to the marginalisation of DWs (
Gaitskell et al. 1983). In South Africa, DWs are at the bottom of the socio-economic hierarchy, contending with power systems rooted in colonial and post-colonial labour relations (
Gaitskell et al. 1983). Nyamnjoh (
2005) further illustrates how in Southern Africa, the relationship between DWs and their employers is characterised by ‘mutual zombification’—a complex mix of dependency, uncertainty, and survival strategies in the face of socio-economic insecurities, where both the madam and the maid, though within a clear power hierarchy, depend on each other in navigating unpredictable life circumstances. Recent studies highlight the precarious conditions affecting DWs across the continent. Nayupe
et al. (
2023) found that DWs in Malawi often experience violated rights, limited social protections, and adopt coping mechanisms to tolerate abusive environments and sustain their livelihoods. Similarly, Mangena (
2023), in Zimbabwe, detailed the woman-to-woman exploitation often existing in black households, challenging the assumption that gender solidarity naturally translates to equitable power dynamics.
Despite this growing body of work in Southern and Eastern Africa, the specific lived experiences of DWs in West African urban centres remains underexplored. These countries present unique socio-cultural and economic contexts where domestic work remains highly feminised, informal, and unregulated. In Nigeria, the demand for DWs has grown in response to increasing urbanisation and the participation of middle-class women in formal employment, yet DWs continue to face job insecurity, poor remuneration, and various forms of abuse (
Akanle et al. 2016). Similarly, in Ghana, while domestic work provides employment for many rural-to-urban migrant women and girls, they endure exploitative conditions, long working hours, and limited avenues for redress (
Quartey 2017).
This study, conducted in Accra, Ghana, and Lagos, Nigeria, examines lived experiences, motivations, and coping strategies of DWs, which have received scant attention (
Shahid & Syed 2023), using two theoretical lenses—feminist ethics of care (FEC) and human dignity. Economic liberalisation has changed labour markets and increased reliance on DWs in both nations (
Tsikata 2018), making them reasonable sites for domestic work comparative studies, having similar socio-cultural history (
Ayibadeinyefa 2011) but different regulatory environments (
Akande et al. 2021). Below, we discuss theoretical underpinnings and literature, present the methodology, discuss our findings, and make policy recommendations.
Methodology
The study qualitatively (
Traynor et al. 2024) examined motivations, coping strategies, and lived experiences of female DWs through nine in-depth interviews between September and October 2024. Three recruitment agencies and four employers were also interviewed, totalling sixteen participants from Nigeria (six DWs, two agents, two employers) and Ghana (three DWs, one agent, two employers), recruited through purposive and snowball sampling (
Ahmed 2024) and enabling triangulation (
Hanson-DeFusco 2023). These provided insights into industry operations, stakeholder experiences, and worker protection, and opened dialogue about possible changes. Ethical clearance was from Lagos Business School’s Research Ethics Committee. All interviews were in English and recorded,
1 as DWs, agents, and employers in cities like Lagos and Accra routinely use a localised, accessible form of English for daily communication. This variant retains cultural differences while bridging linguistic diversity, Awumbila
et al. (
2016). By prioritising participants’ fluency and comfort, we avoided the risk of imposed translation of indigenous-language interviews, where third-party interpreters could potentially distort narratives or cause loss of information in translation. Personal identifiers were removed and privacy safeguarded by labelling the data with unique pseudonyms. Some DWs had confidentiality concerns about employer retaliation; they were reassured of anonymity and the right to withdraw whenever wished.
Table
2 presents the demographics of the DW respondents, showing a similar age range but lower earnings in Nigeria (US$15 to US$24 compared to US$46 to US$183) in Ghana. DWs in both countries worked for one-member to six-member families (average size of three). Almost all were single and lived-in. Educationally, all had been to high school. Their experience ranged from one to nine years.
Table 2
| Participant ID | Age | Gender | Year(s) of experience | Marital status | Years of schooling | Monthly income (NGN/GHS) | In USD | Employer’s family size |
|---|
| DW1 | 20 | Female | 3 | Single | Twelve | 25,000 NGN | 15 | 1 |
| DW2 | 18 | Female | 2 | Single | Eleven | 40,000 NGN | 24 | 5 |
| DW3 | 22 | Female | 1 | Married | Twelve | 40,000 NGN | 24 | 2 |
| DW4 | 22 | Female | 3 | Single | Ten | 30,000 NGN | 18 | 3 |
| DW5 | 29 | Female | 4 | Single | Eleven | 40,000 NGN | 24 | 5 |
| DW6 | 22 | Female | 9 | Single | Twelve | 30,000 NGN | 18 | 6 |
| DW7G | 23 | Female | 3 | Single | Twelve | 1000 GHS | 61 | 3 |
| DW8G | 27 | Female | 3 | Single | Twelve | 1000–3000 GHS | 61–183 | 5 |
| DW9G | 24 | Female | 1 | Single | Twelve | 750 GHS | 46 | 4 |
The data were thematically analysed (
Nikitas et al. 2019), combining NVivo 10 software with manual application. Codes were identified and key themes generated following the objectives and emerging patterns.
Findings and discussion
Precarious work conditions and unilateral employer control
This section examines the precarity of domestic work, its short-termism, and informal recruitment and contracting practices, leading to undignified working conditions (
Hunt & Samman 2020;
Hodzi et al. 2021).
Jobs are short-lived. Two respondents worked in three different homes consecutively within three years; five had been less than a month with their current employers, while three had been with the same employers for three years.
Agents or family members usually facilitated industry entry, but a few DWs were referred by friends or former employers. Verbal agreements were easily broken, as Robillard
et al. (
2018) had observed. DWs could propose a salary based on the explained scope of work, but employers default, as DW3 argued:
I told them … ₦45,000. The woman said, “₦40,000, and I will increase it if you work for two or three months”. … almost eight months now …, and she hasn’t increased it. (DW3)
… they told me the things I would be doing. But … the tasks changed. (DW3)
Some … tell you this is what you’re supposed to do … before you start …, but when you get there, they will change it. (DW2)
Like the findings of Bhuyan
et al. (
2018) and Vassallo & Debono (
2020) that DWs’ experience deviation from agreed-upon work, the data revealed unilateral and uncaring workload changes. One participant noted:
Initially, I was supposed to clean in the morning. After one month, she said I should clean in the evening as well. I was also only supposed to bathe the children and cook for them when they came back from school. But later, I had to help with assignments, braid their hair …
While Ghanian DWs either got paid for extra work or had their agents intervene, Nigerian DWs bore the burden: ‘they will change everything; they will start telling you to do things you didn’t discuss …, I don’t have any choice’ (DW2).
No participant had received professional training before or during their employment, yet proficiency was expected for various tasks and for unanticipated circumstances, including specialised care, ‘
I have to be around him always … he can’t see very well, so, every little thing, he’s calling me’ (DW5). Filipino DWs in Europe faced similar situations (
Vassallo & Debono 2020).
Participants earn little: ‘
… not enough to take care of my personal needs, not to talk about … my family’ (DW5 who earns US$15 monthly). This corroborates the observations of Hellgren (
2015) and Bhuyan
et al. (
2018) on low wages and no overtime pay, and the findings of Hodzi
et al. (
2021) regarding devaluation of DWs’ work.
In most cases, employers covered healthcare but on their own terms, like providing medication without addressing the cause of illness: ‘As I sleep late, sometimes … headache, sometimes, my eyes swell up. If I complain …, she just says, “… go to the pharmacy and take some drugs”. She knows … what causes it, but … will just keep quiet’ (DW3).
DWs often had no fair hearing if accused of wrongdoing, though agents would very occasionally referee conflicts: ‘says, “… go take something”, so that I don’t complain to my agent that I’m sick and that my madam didn’t take me to the hospital’ (DW3). They are mostly helpless:
I complained, but my agent didn’t say anything.
… some agents … do not care about the girl … .If … an issue … the girl calls … they will not even listen …’ (Agent 1)
Respondents knew no legal protections, as Vassallo & Debono (
2020), Amorosi (
2022), and Lambin
et al. (
2022) had found.
Participants also emphasised the ever-present threat of arbitrary contract termination, for family relocation or just a choice careless of DWs’ well-being or disrespecting their dignity.
told me to pack … and leave her house. I was shocked and asked what I had done wrong …, but she just wanted me out. (DW4)
… told me to pack my things and leave her house again … sent me away … two times. (DW4)
Domestic workers are not valued or protected … (Agent 1).
Like this section’s thematic findings, Hellgren (
2015) and Adisa
et al. (
2021) also found precarity, unpredictable work hours, and low wages.
Exploitation and isolation: excessive workloads and restricted freedoms
This section examines the lived experiences of DWs—excessive work hours, heavy workloads, and restrictions on freedom and personal time—contravening care, dignity, and decent work principles.
Vassallo & Debono (
2020) remarked on DWs’ inability to maintain workplace boundaries, a finding reflected in this study. DW3 noted: ‘
Sometimes I would work from 5 am and sleep at maybe 2 am or 3 am. [My employer]
wouldn’t allow me to sleep early. Sometimes …, I would just start crying.’ Occasionally, one DW got only three hours of sleep. If she tried to sleep during the day, the children would report, and she would get scolded:
The only time I have is to eat. When I finish eating and washing the plates, I go back to work again. It’s from Monday to Sunday … . The only day I might rest is Sunday, and that’s only if there’s nothing to do. Sometimes we go out with the children to the park to play …, then we come back. (DW3)
… every little thing he’s calling me, I can’t even sleep in the afternoon. He’s always calling, calling, calling …, he always cut my sleep short. (DW1)
… the family … maltreating domestic workers … go scot-free. (Agent 2)
Also, participants experienced violence, extreme incivility, and indirect bullying—through children, like in Awumbila
et al.’s (
2019) finding of female DW exposure to abuse. Participant DW3 observed that, ‘
after I wash the clothes, the younger daughter will say she doesn’t like them. She will wear them, then dirty them. In one day, she can change clothes three times.’
… the children, when they scatter the place, I will clean … iron all the clothes including pants …, arrange it, the next day, the wardrobe will be scattered …, When she [the employer] gets into the room and sees …, she will be like I have never arranged the clothes. I will tell her that … it was the children who scattered them, and she will be like, I’m talking back … and … I am disrespectful … (DW2)
some parents are always preventing their children from doing things. (DW2)
Moreover, participants often lack access to regular time off or formal leave periods:
‘[s]
ince that time, I’ve never been home … she doesn’t want me to go home in December because that’s the time she earns money’ (DW3). While employers may compensate—‘
50,000 and … clothes for my mom’ (DW3)—this cannot replace time with loved ones: ‘
… very stressful, and I don’t have time … for myself, I can’t go out’ (DW5). Isolation is intensified by pre-existing separation from families and friends: ‘
… the phone is ringing, but I can’t pick it up. Sometimes, I don’t talk to anybody for a week because of my work’ (DW3). Participants’ personal lives disappear into their work lives (
Vassallo & Debono 2020). Participant DW3 shared her gruelling schedule:
… wake up by 5 am and bathe the children, prepare what they would take to school. … return to wash the clothes by hand … no washing machine. Then, … mop the floors … go into her room and tidy up everything. Then, … start washing again. Sometimes the clothes were too much. … wash until the children came back and meet me washing, … stop … to attend to them, give them food, then return … .Then, the woman … wanted to eat …, maybe from her shop, and I would stop …, cook the food, and take it to her. Then, … come back and continue. I don’t sleep until she comes back. Sometimes, … back by 12 am, or even 1 am. And when she returned, she would still ask me to do something for her. (DW3)
Differential treatment and the ‘othering’ of DWs
This section explores alienation, experienced by DWs due to differential treatment regardless of work model, and resulting feelings of injustice and indignity.
Whether in rare external or more common live-in models, DWs felt alienation when treated differently from the family. Their duties varied from solely housekeeping and cleaning to adding on cooking, childcare, eldercare, and/or children’s tutorials. The more personal the duties, the deeper the hurt and betrayal felt when ‘othered’.
The experience was worse when employers cared for themselves and their families, echoing Vassallo & Debono (
2020)’s well-being concerns: ‘…
my Madam, … sometimes she calls me, and when I [go to]
meet her, she is sleeping. … not good when you are resting and someone else is working. That person has blood too and needs rest’ (DW3).
Some employers hardly give DWs a break: ‘They want … that the girl is always working’ (Agent 2).
Experienced injustice due to employers withholding care and respect was unsurprising given the power disparities (
Dawood & Seedat-Khan 2023;
Hunt & Samman 2020). Participant DW3 lamented: ‘[s]
ometimes …, I would just start crying … Ah, God, why are things so difficult for me? If my parents had money, I wouldn’t be in this condition.’
Coping in non-humane situations
This section discusses the challenges DWs face when employers hinder their sense of belonging, causing low job and life satisfaction, and their coping strategies.
Employers have a duty to treat employees humanely, as befitting their human dignity, particularly DWs who must make a home within the employer’s home. Alienation and isolation occur when employers prevent DWs from feeling at home in their homes, which could explain low satisfaction (
Chowdhury & Gutman 2012):
stop … do something else like [a] company job. (DW2)
… can’t do this kind of work. (DW5)
it’s not a good job. (DW6)
The most common coping strategies were resignation—‘I just endured’ (DW3)—and avoidance:
No matter the situation, I will not talk. I will just keep quiet and just ignore and move on as if nothing happened. (DW7G)
anytime he talks, I will just leave him, I won’t say anything. (DW1)
Emotional attachments did not aid coping, contrary to the findings of Ho
et al. (
2019). Rather, patience, endurance, and hope in God were common mechanisms: ‘
… everything needs patience. If you have patience, you’ll get what you want’ (DW3). Respondents in both countries also used sleep; others apologised, ‘
… right or wrong, I always say sorry’ (DW2), or quit:
if I can’t cope, I will just pack out. (DW7G)
[my employment was] really stressful. I [worked] like three years there, but I had to leave because of the way they were [treating me].
Positive experiences
This section examines some DWs’ positive experiences, highlighting FEC demonstrated by employers and resulting benefits for both parties.
As with Bhuyan
et al. (
2018), participants shared positive aspects of their situation. These reflected FEC in their employers’ actions, and included (1) financial assistance, bonuses, and gifts; (2) demonstration of positive values and character; and (3) skills development. Participant DW3 said:
1.
She helped me … anytime … my family needed something, if she had it, she would give me … . So, I experienced the act of giving from her.
2.
she does not like lying … told me that lying is the root of evil. So, I learned …
3.
I’ve learned … to be patient, … sincere and truthful … to maintain … items in the kitchen
4.
I am practising … home management, how to take care of stuff, how to do things properly … really good, because … one day …, I will still do those things in my own house. (DW7G)
The employers also benefitted:
1.
… easier knowing someone … to watch over the baby … things are kept clean … (Employer 1)
2.
… mothers get busy … someone extra … to ensure … smooth running of the household … (Employer 2)
3.
… a wonderful experience … really supported. No one can do it all … even employers hire people. (Employer 2)
4.
… it allows me time … longer hours in the office, … not rushing … there is a presence in the house … important to the functioning of my home ….; taking away … those chores that I would otherwise have to do. (Employer 3G)
5.
It makes things easy, because you have someone; … very crucial … (Employer 4G)
DWs treated as family and with dignity had more positive experiences and exhibited greater commitment and loyalty, supporting Bhuyan
et al.’s (
2018) conclusion that respect improves work conditions. DWs allowed to choose food and join family activities felt included:
[My employer said] anything that you like, you will eat. (DW3)
they treat me like family, … outside, [people] don’t know the kind of work I’m doing. … they think that I’m related to them. (DW5)
Positive learnings also came from negative experiences, ‘you can’t treat someone else’s daughter badly because of what you’ve gone through’ (DW3).
Limited choice and meaningful work
This section explores the motivations of DWs for entering the profession, primarily driven by economic factors, and the challenges to finding meaning and fulfilment in their work.
All DWs in this study chose this profession for economic reasons—to support themselves and their families or to save for future career aspirations. They often lacked alternatives: ‘I decided … because I didn’t know where I might end up tomorrow’ (DW3); ‘It is not like there is [a] job outside that somebody can do. … they don’t have any other choice’ (DW5); ‘if I left this place, I might find something more difficult. So, I endured’ (DW3); ‘I have other siblings that are going to school that I need to help.’
… five agents, and all … told me they only had house help job … I don’t have any other choice … because I also need money … (DW2)
I didn’t have any other option. I do this work to save money, to learn a trade, and to prepare for the future. (DW4)
My father does not like us to do all this work, but I have to help them … . That’s why … (DW6)
I use it to support, in case a family member should call …, every month too, I have to send money to my mom from the same salary. (DW7G)
I have a lot of responsibilities … for my family and taking care of my siblings in school. I do not have much, but I support them. (DW8G)
The family urge at home influenced my decision. (DW9G)
Motivations were similar, with family responsibilities being paramount, followed by self-care and educational goals, such as ‘to save some money to go back to school’ (DW1, DW8G). The lack of alternatives was also a shared experience: ‘I didn’t have any other option’ (DW4, DW2). In Nigeria, DWs also saved to finance enterprise: ‘learn a trade’ or ‘start … my own business’ (DW4, DW5).
Everyone has a right to find meaning and fulfilment at work. DWs, despite mostly financial motivations, could enjoy the ‘giving’ aspect of the job, especially when working with children. This does not always happen: ‘
I don’t think there’s any aspect that gives me joy, or maybe … when I get paid’ (DW5). Meaningfulness is further reduced when employers and or others stigmatise them: ‘
some people don’t like it because of how they are treated’ (DW3), fluctuating on employers’ whims (
Vassallo & Debono 2020).
Reflections and perspectives
Our findings showcase the realities of DWs in Nigeria and Ghana—power imbalances, unfair treatment, and undefined work hours—calling for practical applications of the theories of FEC and human dignity to significantly improve the structural and relational aspects of domestic work. FEC emphasises the centrality of care in human relationships and the moral significance of attending to others’ needs. We found a skewness of care toward the employer in the employer–DW relationship, revealing transactional dynamics that silence DWs’ voices and forces them to cope with injustice. The exploitation is worsened by boundarylessness in life and work schedules, which takes away freedom and perpetuates social norms that devalue caregiving. FEC condemns these and calls for reorientation of domestic work as a profession deserving acknowledgement and caring treatment.
The human dignity concept emphasises the intrinsic value of every person, regardless of socio-economic status, thereby promoting respect and equity. However, in the experiences of DWs, unjust treatment and lack of legal protections undermine their dignity. When they do not know their rights, exploitation and cycles of inequality continue. The disparities highlight how the industry disrespects human dignity. Awareness initiatives and a shared commitment to acknowledging DWs’ dignity and dismantling exploitative societal practices are needed.
The findings also illustrate DWs’ resilience, demonstrated through coping strategies. Despite challenges, many maintain hope and envision better futures. This aligns with FEC, which values relational autonomy and highlights the need to empower individuals within caregiving relationships. Similarly, their resistance promotes human dignity, showing deep-seated opposition to dehumanisation and desires for justice and acceptance.
Our findings strongly support applying FEC and human dignity theories for urgent changes in how DWs are treated. A fair and compassionate framework for domestic work should address power imbalance, encourage respect for caregiving, and ensure labour regulations are followed. By centring the voices and experiences of DWs, we can begin building relationships rooted in equity, mutual respect, and care.
Conclusion and recommendations
Major findings indicate that DWs are motivated by economic needs. They experience significant challenges, including power imbalances causing vulnerability to abuse and injustice. Resignation emerged as their predominant coping strategy. The issues could be addressed by adopting FEC and human dignity perspectives. Thus, we recommend the following:
Employers should ensure decent work—fairer pay and better conditions. Though they often house and feed DWs, remuneration remains low after adding these benefits. In designing jobs, they should limit work to standard hours and incorporate daily, weekly, monthly, and annual rest. When needed, they could employ two DWs instead of one. They should also provide and adhere to truthful job descriptions.
Employers need reorientation programmes on ethical treatment and positive working relationships. Conducted by recruiting agencies, these could foster respect for DWs and recommend FEC and human dignity practices like zero abuse, decent food, and dignified spaces. DWs also need fair contracts—preferably written—and options to self-negotiate, without agents.
DWs’ appreciation of self-development opportunities is perhaps our most valuable finding. Employers knowing this can mindfully make the work relationship more meaningful, yielding win–win rather than exploitative experiences or, at most, purely transactional ones where each party uses the other. This could reduce precarity such that families are better served and can positively impact society.
Governments must add provisions that address domestic work into labour and contract laws. For compliance, monitoring and enforcement bodies should inspect working conditions, penalise offending employers and agents, and provide complaint mechanisms.
Agencies play a crucial role connecting employers and DWs. Financial and technical support can facilitate their compliance with labour laws; and they could form coalitions to advocate for standardised wages and conditions, strictly monitored to prevent exploitation. A structured and impartial channel should hear and resolve DWs’ grievances with timeliness. Regulators could implement training and oversight mechanisms to ensure agents prioritise DWs’ well-being over personal interests.
Being a gendered industry, targeted gender sensitivity training for agents and employers could address anti-dignity and anti-care issues. Governments and NGOs (non-governmental organisations) should also initiate DW social protection, including healthcare, insurance, and pensions. They could collaborate with agencies to establish professional training, domestic work formalisation, and education about responsibilities, rights, and redress.
Policymakers should refine labour laws to assure DWs the rights and dignity protections other workers have, and make these known to them. Since DWs often lack safety nets, leaving them financially unstable, policies must integrate them into social schemes with health benefits, maternity leave, and retirement plans.
Addressing systemic gender inequities remains crucial. Policymakers must protect DWs from gender-based violence and promote equitable treatment for male and female DWs. Policies should be grounded in human dignity and FEC principles, emphasising DWs’ intrinsic value such that their workplaces are respectful, fair, and supportive.
Finally, public awareness campaigns about the value of domestic work and DWs’ rights can dismantle stereotypes and foster respect and appreciation. Adopting these recommendations will benefit DWs and the industry. Employer families will flourish, and society will be improved. We suggest that future researchers should explore the impact of immigration on DWs’ job security, well-being, and conditions of employment, and investigate how abused DWs can receive adequate support.