Someone once said to me, “Oh, you’re that rich, huh?” and I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me.
It happened not long after I moved to Germany. I was out with colleagues, people I was starting to consider friends, and I offered to cover everyone’s bill. One of them looked at me and said it. Back home, when you’re out with friends, you take turns paying. Sometimes you cover the bill, other times someone else does. It’s normal. But here, that gesture made someone think I was trying to prove something. I smiled and brushed it off, but inside I was caught off guard, unsure of what I’d done wrong.
That moment stayed with me for months. So when the intercultural communication workshop came around during EmpowerHer, and we started talking about cultural misunderstandings, something in me loosened. One woman shared how she’d bought fancy looking soap for a colleague here and it was taken the wrong way. Another talked about giving someone fragranced deodorant, thinking it was thoughtful, only to realize later it had been misread as an insult. Hearing others share similar stories made me realize I wasn’t alone in making these mistakes. It didn’t erase the sting, but it helped me understand it better.
When I look back at how EmpowerHer began for me, it still feels almost accidental, even though everything about it matched who I’ve always been. Community work has always been part of who I am. Back home, I was the one volunteering, organizing women’s groups, working with young people, making sure everyone had somewhere to be heard. I’ve always found myself in rooms where people gather to support each other, so saying yes to EmpowerHer felt natural long before I understood what it would become.
I signed up for a voluntary cleanup by the Rhine, and that’s where I met Suaad. We spoke briefly while picking up trash by the river. She told me about her idea for a women’s project. I told her about Rooted Routes, the platform I’m building for migrants to share their stories without being filtered or reduced. It was an easy conversation. Suaad had a warmth about her that made you want to listen, and when she spoke about bringing women together, the passion in her voice was unmistakable. I could tell she had a good heart, and our energies clicked. She wanted to build something where migrant and German women could meet, learn, and share honestly. I told her it was a great initiative and encouraged her to move forward with it. When registration opened, I was one of the first to join.
I walked into the first session with no real expectations. I wasn’t nervous or overthinking anything. I simply wanted to meet people, listen, and understand what brought them here. The room held women from Germany, Brazil, Nigeria, Yemen, Georgia, India, Ukraine, Morocco… women from all over. Some had been here for decades, others were still finding their footing. By the way, I’ve changed some of their names here. The room felt warm, open, like everyone was cautiously hopeful about what we were starting.
We were asked to bring something from home. I chose pepper soup spice. I’d thought about bringing something from my fashion work or some Nigerian currency, but pepper soup spice felt more honest. It reminded me of home, especially when I’d catch a flu – the first thing I’d make was hot pepper soup. When the other women started sharing what they’d brought, I could feel something change in the room. Someone brought a ring her parents had given her. Another had a toy her child used to play with. There was a book, a photo, things that didn’t look like much but clearly meant everything. Everyone shared a piece of themselves, and the rest of us just listened.
The language workshop came a few weeks in. The trainer was part of our group, so the room felt relaxed. We started by introducing ourselves in our native languages, then moved through games, tongue twisters, drawing pictures others had to name in German, and a speed dating exercise where we asked each other quick questions back and forth. There were so many languages in the room that day. Hearing everyone’s voice in their own language was something special.
The Feminist Law Clinic came next. I wasn’t sure what to make of the term at first because it means something different where I’m from, but the workshop ended up being useful for a lot of the women there. They asked specific questions about rights, benefits, how to handle certain situations they’d been struggling with. I didn’t have many questions myself, but watching the other women get answers they’d been looking for felt important.
I was out of the country during the art workshop, and I wish I had been there. The WhatsApp group blew up with photos and videos. Everyone looked so relaxed, laughing together. That’s also when Yena said “wowwww” in a way that made everyone crack up, and it became this running joke we’d reference for weeks.
The cooking workshop was my first day back. Walking into that room felt good because by then I’d heard about some of the stress Suaad had been dealing with behind the scenes. Trying to get trainers to confirm, space wahala. Nothing about organizing this program had been easy, but she kept going anyway. Almost everyone showed up that day. We made flatbread, salads, and rice together. I was on a cleanse at the time, avoiding carbs, but I still tasted the food because I couldn’t help myself. The chopping, mixing, and laughter reminded me of home. Back home, when there’s a wedding or a party, cooking is what brings everyone together. People sit outside with firewood, share jokes, chew meat, and shout instructions over pots. That day felt a bit like that.
The financial workshop was a reality check. The trainer joined online and went over income, expenses, investments; the things you don’t want to look at too closely until someone makes you. Somewhere in the middle of it I realized I’d been spending way more than I should have been. Not great. Nobody was saying much at that point. I think we were all doing the same math in our heads and not liking what we found. I went home that day, looked at my bank account, and honestly, I didn’t want to think about it.
The career workshop followed. There were two trainers: one focused on CVs and cover letters, and the other on being proactive in job searches. I had sent my CV beforehand, so she discussed it with me. We even did a mock interview. It made me think about how I’ve been approaching things here in Germany. I’ve applied to jobs, a lot of them actually, but the workshop made me realize I might need to be more intentional about which ones and how I’m going after them.
The anti-racism workshop was the one that surprised me the most. I’d gone in thinking I already understood racism well enough, but the session was set up differently than I expected. We did exercises like standing up if certain statements about our experiences applied to us, then talking about what it felt like to watch other people sit down while you stood. The island exercise made it even more personal. We were given a list of people with different backgrounds, professions, ages, and identities, and had to choose seven who would survive with us on an island. When we started explaining our choices, the trainer asked questions that made us examine why we’d picked certain people and not others. He wasn’t accusing us of anything. He just wanted us to think about why we made the choices we did. Something about that made me pause. I realized I’d been carrying assumptions I didn’t even know I had, and I don’t think I was the only one in the room feeling that way.
Outside the workshops, friendships started happening. We were meeting for lunch, kaffee und kuchen, just spending time together beyond the program.
When the final day came, it didn’t feel like six months had passed. Some of us wore our native attires, and we brought or made food from our home countries. The room was full of energy, everyone laughing and taking photos and trying to hold onto the moment a little longer. Suaad called each person up to receive a certificate, a rose, a postcard, and an EmpowerHer cup. I stood beside her, handing them out, watching each woman’s face as she got hers. The trainers got theirs too. My children were there with me, dancing and making friends with everyone. There was an art gallery set up in the corner where we’d all displayed something we’d created over the months. My piece was there too, “Rooted in Traditions,” sitting next to everyone else’s work. At some point we wrapped gifts together for charity. And somewhere in the middle of all of it, we surprised Maria with a birthday celebration. She’s my fellow Sagittarius, and she couldn’t stop smiling and laughing. It felt like the perfect way to end.
Leaving that day, I felt proud of Suaad. She’d taken an idea and built something real out of it. She wants to keep doing this, and knowing her, she will.
I showed up to that first session thinking I’d meet some people, maybe help out where I could. I’m leaving with friends from countries I’ve never been to and a different understanding of what it means to belong somewhere without erasing where you came from. EmpowerHer gave me a room full of women who were figuring out the same complicated things I was. And maybe that’s all any of us needed.
