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As a migrant domestic worker, I dream of a better future

Updated: Oct 8

by Christine






Growing up, I had such a simple and plain life with my family. There were times when my parents were struggling to provide basic necessities. I can still remember when we were young, there were times when we were going to school without any food in our stomachs, but we still went because we were eager to learn. 


There were also times that we couldn't pass some of the assignments and requirements in school because of a lack of resources. As the second eldest in the family, I was  responsible for teaching my younger siblings while my mother helped my father to earn extra money for the household expenses. I enjoyed teaching them, and had dreams of becoming a future educator.


As I grew up, I started to dream more about what I wanted to be in the future, and our hardships made me more ambitious. I craved a more comfortable life, one where I would not have to think whether we would get enough money to buy food for tomorrow, where instead, I could just think of what I would have to eat or will cook for my family. I dreamed of my own future, with a house, cars and abundant living for my family.


Sending us to college was not my parents' priority. But education was so important to me, and something no one could ever take away from me. I worked and studied at the same time, supporting myself until my third year in college to increase my chances for better career opportunities. Unfortunately at that time, my father became sick and was no longer able to work. It was hard for me, but I decided to stop my studies and worked fulltime to help my mother financially. I took every job there was.


I got married, and after six years and three children together, my husband left us. My world shattered. I didn’t know what to do or where to start. Overthinking and worrying about our family’s future became part of my nightly routine. I had to take action for the sake of my children. I bravely applied for a job as a domestic helper in Saudi Arabia, and started work there in January 2019. I was desperate, and thought this would be the key for a better life for my children.


I really felt excited and sad at the same time. It was my first time abroad, and my first time away from my family, especially my children who were still young and dependent at that time. My mother helped me prepare for my journey up until my flight date. Truly farewells aren’t nice at all.

 

Working abroad as a domestic worker was very different from where I used to work. Working long hours, not eating properly and without days off was really hard, not to mention being alone and away from my family. I had to endure sadness alone and lift myself up when I was down. I missed my family so much, especially my children. When I was sick, my employer forced me to work—even when I had coronavirus, my employer didn't let me rest even for a day. 


Years passed by and my work became heavier and heavier. One day, my employer traveled to the UK and brought me with them. The UK sounds like it might be a good place to work, but it is not. My situation with my employer became worse and worse, until I could no longer stand how they treated me. I got a chance to escape and run away from them.


I found The Voice of Domestic Workers, a charity supporting migrant domestic workers like myself, who help me cope up with life here in the UK. I’m now an active member of the group, and think of them as my second family. The organisation has given us knowledge about the rights of the domestic workers in this country. They have also helped us by referring to other services who can support us with our cases, including Kalayaan, another charity that supports migrant domestic workers. All we want is for this government to recognise that domestic work is a decent job and deserves fair treatment just like any other job. We also want to be able to go back home and see our family. We currently cannot do this if we are in the National Referral Mechanism, which determines whether we are victims of modern slavery or human trafficking. We don’t have any idea how long this process will take.


I am part of the Future Voices programme, which helps us develop our skills to be a public spokesperson and serve as a voice for our fellow domestic workers who are afraid to tell their stories. I am thankful that they have this program for us domestic workers to have a chance to develop our skills and have the opportunity to share our story with everyone.


About the author 

Christine Joy is 31 years old and was born and raised in Manila, in the Philippines. She started working at the age of 16 to support her family. She has three children; two boys and a girl. She first worked abroad in 2019, in Saudi Arabia as a domestic worker, where her employer treated her badly. Here in the UK, she met one of the Voice of Domestic Workers, who helped her leave her employer and protect herself from danger. 

 

Christine is part of the Future Voices programme, a unique leadership and training programme run in partnership between the Voice of Domestic Workers and Sounddelivery Media equipping a new network of migrant domestic workers with the knowledge, skills and confidence to share their stories, influence public opinion and advocate for change. 

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