Ananya Kulkarni Facebook ad: “I played here”

About this ad

Meta Ad Library ID

1450201579908405

Platforms

Facebook and Instagram

Relaunches

5

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Ad text

😢 I WAS A NURSE BACK IN INDIA... BUT IN AUSTRALIA, I'M CLEANING FLOORS IN AN AGED CARE HOME 😭❤️ The hardest thing is looking in the mirror and not recognising yourself. My name is Ananya Kulkarni. I'm 35 years old, from Lucknow, India. Three years ago I came to Sydney, Australia 🇦🇺 on a Temporary Skill Shortage visa as a care worker (with the dream of becoming a registered nurse). I thought: "My qualifications will be recognised here. I'll work in a hospital. My mother will get good treatment here. My family will be proud of me." I left my husband and my mother. She was 62 then, and her health was not good – sugar, BP, always some problem. At the airport, she held my hand and asked: "Betu, will you really become a nurse in Australia? Will you come back for me?" I answered: "Yes, Maa. I will come back and take you with me. Then your treatment will be proper." I came with my diploma, hope, and plans. But the reality was cruel. The process to become a registered nurse in Australia takes years: Getting my Indian BSc Nursing degree recognised by AHPRA – first I had to pass the IELTS or OET exam (with 7 in each section or equivalent, which is so hard), then the NCLEX-RN exam, then the OSCE practical exam. And all of this costs thousands of dollars – application fees, exam fees, training courses. It takes 2–3 years or more. And while I'm waiting – I still have to survive. I work as a care worker in an aged care home. Looking after elderly people. Feeding them. Bathing them. Changing their pads. Cleaning their rooms, toilets, floors. 10–12 hour shifts, often double shifts or nights. Pay: AUD 28–33 per hour (with a bit extra for nights/weekends), after tax and deductions, about AUD 3,800–4,800 net per month. Rent for a room in Sydney: AUD 300–450 per week (shared or own room). Food. Transport. Sending money home. Left for me: AUD 800–1,200. Every month I send AUD 1,200–1,800 to my husband and my mother – for her medicines, for the doctor visits, for the house. For myself – almost nothing. My mother is still in Lucknow. My husband takes care of her when I'm not there. She video calls me and says: "Betu, when are you coming? I made your favourite kheer yesterday and kept for you. Then I remembered you are not here." I smile at the camera and say: "Soon, Maa. I'm studying and working. Just wait a little more." Then I end the call and cry in my rented room – because I'm cleaning floors and toilets instead of treating patients, even though I studied for 4 years. She asks: "Betu, why do you always look so tired on video? Why can't you come and hug me?" I reply: "Maa, because I'm far away, but I love you so so much. I'm doing all this for you only." Inside I think: "I'm taking care of other people's mothers while my own mother is sitting alone, waiting for me." Every day – exhausted. My back hurts from lifting patients. My hands burn from disinfectant. My feet ache from walking all day in the corridors. Some employers are kind. Others say: "You're lucky to have a job here," and ask me to do extra hours without proper overtime pay. I stay quiet – scared to lose my shifts, scared to lose my visa. I have a BSc Nursing degree, but here I'm "just a care worker." I apply for AHPRA registration and prepare for my OSCE – it's expensive, long queues, sometimes rejected. Then the crisis came. The aged care home cut shifts – cost saving. I was put on part-time. Two months with almost no income. Money ran out. I sent money for my mother's medicines – my last AUD 100. Rent: AUD 400 per week. Food. Transport. I had AUD 250 left for the week. I counted every dollar: "If I don't get more hours – I can't pay rent. I'll be homeless." My mother called me. "Betu, I didn't take my medicines for two days. I thought I will save money. Don't send so much, keep for yourself." She looked at me on the screen and softly said: "Betu... you are not eating properly, na? Your face has become so thin." I hugged my phone and cried silently so she wouldn't hear. One night, while it was morning in Sydney, I was scrolling on my phone. I saw an ad – Dragon Fate. I thought: "Another scam." But I opened the comments. Then I joined a private group of Indian nurses and care workers in Australia (about 4,000 members). I posted: "Has anyone here played Dragon Fate? Is it real or scam?" Within 10 minutes, 9 replies came. Four women sent screenshots of withdrawals: – AUD 14k – AUD 7k – AUD 32k – AUD 19k All with recent dates. One wrote: "I was scared at first, but I withdrew AUD 9k to my card within 48 hours. No problem." I decided to try. I deposited AUD 50 – all I had left after food and the last send for my mother's medicines. I started the slot. At first, almost everything disappeared. I was about to delete the app. Then – bonus. Multipliers started coming: 25x… 55x… 120x… Screen flashed. My heart was pounding. Stopped at AUD 750. I couldn't believe it. I withdrew – the money came next day. I cried with relief. Sent money for Maa's medicines for two months, paid part of the rent, and whispered: "Maybe this is my chance." Two weeks later, money was running out again. I found a new job at an aged care home, but the first salary was promised after 21 days. Fear returned. I started counting every dollar again. That night, I opened the app again. Deposited AUD 90 – all that was left after paying bills. Not for fun. Just so I wouldn't break. Started the slot. Normal spins. Then – bonus. The screen exploded with multipliers: 25x… 55x… 120x… 200x… 350x… 480x… 720x… 950x… 1200x I stopped breathing. I couldn't breathe. When it stopped – my balance had reached AUD 36,000. I just stared at the number, silently crying. This was not just a win. This was a way out. I played again – carefully. One more time. After two weeks, my card balance was AUD 71,200. I got a decent apartment – with a room for my mother. I paid for my AHPRA registration, the OSCE preparation course, and the English exam. I sent money for Maa's treatment – the best hospital in Lucknow. I told her: "Maa, now you take medicines properly. I will come soon and take you to Australia. Your treatment will be the best." She hugged me through the screen and said: "Betu, now your face is shining. You look happy." Now I'm finishing my AHPRA registration and preparing for my OSCE. Soon I will work as a registered nurse in a hospital – just like I dreamed. My mother will soon come to Australia. I've got my permanent residency pathway and applied for family reunion. We video call every evening. She tells me what she cooked. I tell her about my day. Soon I will hug her for real. Dragon Fate is not magic. It was just one night when I dared to take a chance – not for myself, but for my mother. I'm leaving the link below 👇 Maybe… for someone else, this could be that same thin thread of hope that it once became for us.

Where the ad sends people

play.google.com

I played here 👉