I came to the UK and became a carer - what people don't understand about my work

The Tory leadership candidate Kemi Badenoch has faced backlash for her comments this week on migrant care workers. In a discussion about immigration at the Conservative Party conference, she said: “We need to make sure we are thinking about the next generation, not just who’s going to wipe bottoms for us today.” Juliana Codjoe has worked in the British care system for a decade. Here, she speaks to i about the reality of the job.

I’ve been with my company for over 10 years on a zero-hours contract with statutory minimum conditions across the board. I’m 46 years old. I worked in marketing in Ghana, but when I got to the UK in 2000, I remembered how excited my grandmother had been to have me help her when she was sick. I thought, I’m good with people, so why not go into the care field?

Now, I’m working nights at an independent living residence in Croydon. My shifts are from 7pm to 7am. On nights, we don’t take a break and spend most of the shift on our feet. We mostly support clients with administering medication, or helping them to bed. When we’re not doing that, we spend time talking to them, making tea, doing laundry, changing their incontinence pads, helping them to warm up meals or assisting them with other everyday tasks.

The ages of the residents vary. Our youngest is about 25. There are people with learning disabilities, mental health issues, and a few who are bed-ridden or have dementia. We have a few who have double incontinence. Depending on the needs of the person, we do our best to give them support.

The sheltered housing unit I work for is like our family home, because we have grown with so many of the residents. One of them looks for me every night, and if he doesn’t see me, he won’t sleep. We have staff members who have skills in doing hair who will use their time to braid and wash tenants’ hair. We don’t talk about religion with residents, but I’ve got a client who brings her Bible every day so she can go through her morning devotion with me. She gets up at 6.45am every day just because the excitement of doing it together has become a routine for her.

For most of the residents, family members have forgotten about them, so we are the people they need. We go the extra mile to make them feel happy and comfortable.

It is a sad thing that people make negative remarks about our work. We are easily targeted and we don’t get any recognition. Because we need the money and value the joy we give to clients, we will work. But the pay we get is bad – I earn £13.15 an hour. With a son and two daughters, aged 10 and 14, my husband and I do our best to get by. Care has become a money-making machine for companies that give out zero-hours contracts. You do what you have to do, but we shouldn’t be working under these conditions for the rest of our lives.

We are paid the least attention of any profession, but we are the ones looking after your mother, aunties, or uncles in your absence. We are the ones who keep them going, who make them happy, and give them a reason to wake up every day. We have supported residents right up until the end of their lives. I’m their family, I can’t do it any other way.

Sometimes, we don’t have the right equipment. Gloves and other forms of PPE are short because Croydon Council is rushing things. I’ve had to pay out of pocket before. During the pandemic, I caught Covid at work and brought it home to my family. Then I kept catching it, almost every six months after that. It was so bad that I had to have an endoscopy to clear my lungs. And any time I took off work, I wasn’t paid for.

Dealing with the immigration system here has been hard. There’s so much grey area. One of my colleagues sent in her indefinite leave to remain application, and because she is an EU member, she didn’t pay any money for it. I paid £3,000, and I’m still waiting for my papers.

I hope even 5 per cent of the work we do is recognised in future. There has not been any understanding of who carers are – we are just seen as the ones who help with the toilet. We are not leaving this to hope alone, me and my colleagues and with the support of our union, United Voices of the World, are calling on Croydon Council to improve our working conditions. They have until Monday to get back to us.

But even when it comes to cleaning up poo, there’s no shame in that – every mother does it. Somebody cleaned Kemi Badenoch’s when she was a child. She should pray that somebody will do the same for her when she gets old.

The job has humbled me so much. It makes me see life from a different perspective, in the sense that when I grow old, I want someone to care for me in the same way that I care for others. Some of the people here are doctors. We have one client who was an English teacher who had a stroke and can’t communicate anymore.

We have forgotten as a society that the UK population is ageing. We all grow old. Without carers, who will look after you?

As told to Kuba Shand-Baptiste