Priya Sharma Facebook ad: “I played here”

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😢 I WAS A NURSE BACK IN INDIA... BUT IN THE UK, I'M CLEANING FLOORS IN A CARE HOME 😭❤️ The hardest thing is looking in the mirror and not recognising yourself. My name is Priya Sharma. I'm 35 years old, from Lucknow, India. Three years ago I came to Manchester, UK 🇬🇧 on a Health and Care Worker visa as a care assistant (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 the UK? 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 the UK takes years: Getting my Indian BSc Nursing degree recognised by the NMC – first I had to pass the IELTS exam (with 7 in each section, which is so hard), then the CBT test, then the OSCE practical exam. And all of this costs thousands of pounds – 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 assistant in a 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: £10–12 per hour (with a bit extra for nights/weekends), after tax and deductions, about £1,400–1,800 net per month. Rent for a room in Manchester: £500–700 a month (shared or own room). Food. Transport. Sending money home. Left for me: £300–400. Every month I send £500–700 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 assistant." I apply for NMC registration and prepare for my OSCE – it's expensive, long queues, sometimes rejected. Then the crisis came. The 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 £50. Rent: £700 a month. Food. Transport. I had £120 left for the week. I counted every pound: "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 Manchester, 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 assistants in the UK (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: – £14k – £7k – £32k – £19k All with recent dates. One wrote: "I was scared at first, but I withdrew £9k to my card within 48 hours. No problem." I decided to try. I deposited £25 – 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 £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 a care home, but the first salary was promised after 21 days. Fear returned. I started counting every pound again. That night, I opened the app again. Deposited £45 – 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 £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 £71,200. I got a decent apartment – with a room for my mother. I paid for my NMC 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 UK. 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 NMC 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 the UK. I've got my settled status 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.

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united.drago

👉 I played here