2 weeks before I flew back to UK I sent my father a letter telling him everything that had happened and the reason why I was coming home. I never heared anything from him which did not suprise me but I at least thought he would let his only child and grandchild rest for the night in his house when I got back until I could sort something out.

Anyway around lunchtime we arrived back in the UK. I had not been back to the UK for 9 years so everything was new to me.
As I waited for our suitcases I stood there wanting to cry, I had no idea what to do or what would happen to us. Once I collected our cases I made my way to a phone box and tried to call my father (no answer). I then called my mothers sister Christine and quickly told her I had to run away from UAE and would explain later, but could I at least come straight to her and leave my cases there while I tried to work out what to do.

Imane and I got a National Express coach back to Brighton (thanks god for "O" money, we would have been destitute in Heathrow without that). Once I arrived in Brighton after a 2 hour journey my aunt came and picked us up. She told me my father had deliberatly booked a holiday so he was not in UK when we arrived home as he had no intention of putting himself out and helping us. My aunt wanted us to be with her but she had no room as all her teenage kids lived at home, so after lots of cuddles and cups of tea, we managed to find a cheap hotel for the night and my aunt looked after our cases and then drove us to the hotel. I decided that the next morning after checking out I would go straight to the local Brighton and Hove City Council homeless department and tell them my daughter and I had nowhere to sleep that night (UK is very good at looking after its people if they are in serious trouble).

Early the next morning Imane and I went to the homeless office and I had to wait to see someone. As I spilled out my story between sobs, the council told me they were going to help me and would accept me as homeless and try to house me. We had to wait for a few hours and had to fill in some forms, but later that afternoon we were given the keys to a tiny studio in a building for homeless people in the center of Brighton until they could permenantly house me.

The studio was really grotty and dirty but at least it was a roof over our heads. My aunt and one of my other aunts and my uncle all rallied round and managed to give us blankets, a secondhand cot for Imane, some old saucepans and even a tiny tv. Over the next few days someone came to help me to fill out all the forms to get wellfare benefit for my daughter and I.
I actually spent 10 weeks living on £46 a week until my tax credits were sorted out for Imane, so life was really hard during that time.

The day after I arrived back to UK, I called my ex from a phone box and told him I wanted a divorce, that no way on earth would I ever let him come and live in the UK, that he was a bad muslim, terrible husband and father and the fact he knowingly sent us to UK without even 1 dh just showed me that the marraige had to end that I served no purpose to him than to get a european citizenship. I then closed the phone on him.

As for my life after this well, 8 weeks after first being put in the homeless studio, Imane and I were given our own 1 bedroom apartment in Ajman and I became a council tenant. I suffered with very bad depression but 8 months later managed to find the job I have now, funny enough I now work for Brighton and Hove City Council in Housing haha.
I work hard, and take care of Imane myself, we now have a large 2 bedroomed apartment by the sea and it is beautifully furnished from my hard earned money. I have recently married again to Rayed who is an International Student (Palestinian but all his family live in UAE).

As for my ex husband, well 6 weeks after I left him he was in Zurich with another woman who he had met on the net while married to me. He is married to her now, they have one son aged 2 and in the past 5.5 years he has not sent one single penny of finance for Imane. She gets one present on her birthday each year and has received a few packages of clothes. He has visited her once for 2 days and in the past 2 years has called her just twice for 40 seconds each phone call.

Despite him being a looser, I have spent my own money twice flying my daughter to Zurich to visit her dad and his new wife and brother, so she at least has some contact. But the last time I took her she got so upset that he spends all his time on her brother, that it affected her so badly that she now wants to be a boy and only dresses as a boy.

If you ask Imane about her dad she tells everyone she does not like him, so refuses to talk about him and does not want to see him.

Marriage to my ex almost put me off Islam, for years I have struggles to follow it, I have not prayed for years, I no longer wear Hijab and hopefully through my new husband I can begin to love it again. But when you suffer so much at the hands of a man that prays 5 times a day and goes regular to the mosque and is always spurting off about Islam and what your doing is against it, when in reality he has commited every sin going I hope everyone understands why I lost my love for Islam and why only now I am begining to fall in love with it again.

So there is my story. I am strong yes, made lots of wrong decisions but at the end of the day I got through it all and my life now is good. I am happy with life and so glad that Morrocan looser is gone from my life and Imanes.
Funny enough I get on well with his new wife and she is even a FB friend haha, she has had many problems with him such as catching him chatting with women and she even suspects he cheated once (I have no idea why she stays with him)
He does not deserve to be Imanes father, a father is more than just being the sperm donor, dont you agree?