Finding Community Through Suffering

Thousands of Filipino women come to London for a better life as domestic workers. When the government fails to protect them, they are forced to create their own support networks.

Nerissa Valerio, now 59, left her home country of the Philippines when she was 30. At the time, she was forced to leave behind her five children, including her youngest who was just a year old in order to find better pay. “It’s really difficult to leave your family, but when you’re thinking of their future you have to sacrifice” she says.

Like many other Filipinos, Valerio was unable to find a job in the Philippines. Despite having completed most of a degree in commerce, she was unable to pay for the final exam, leaving her with few job opportunities. Her main motivation to leave was to get her children a good higher education. “I came from a poor family, so I decided that when I get married, I’m going to get my kids a good education,” she says.

In the Philippines over a quarter of the population lives in poverty, and good paying jobs are few and far between. Convinced this was the only way to afford a good education for her children, Valerio had to work abroad.

Valerio’s story is hardly unique. She is one of 11 million Filipinos – about 10% of the country’s population – who have left their home in search of a better life abroad. In 2019, overseas Filipino workers (known as OFWs) sent back a record breaking £35 billion to their families.

Filipinos commonly work as construction workers in the Middle East and nurses in the United States. Back home they are celebrated as bagong bayani—the new heroes, who work hard for the betterment of their country.

Yet working abroad, particularly as a domestic worker can be dangerous. An investigation by Human Rights Watch has found an “alarming prevalence of abuses”. Countries like Saudi Arabia, where it is commonplace for employers to confiscate the passports of their employees, have become particularly notorious for high levels of abuse against domestic workers. Those who have escaped recall “slave-like” working conditions.

Before coming to London, Valerio had been a domestic worker for 15 years in Hong Kong, Singapore and Jordan. During this time, she describes her employers as “nice” and notes that she never had any problems with them. It wasn’t until she came to London that she experienced abuse.

When she first met her new employers, a Canadian couple in London, Valerio was optimistic. Throughout the job interview, the couple left a good impression on her. “I thought they were nice” she says. After the interview, they wrote up a contract which stated in detail what Valerio’s work would entail. The contract stated that she would not have to care for their three young children, and she would purely take on the role of a live-in housekeeper. It also included a consistent weekly salary and unpaid holiday leave.

A week into her new job, however, Valerio faced the first hurdle. Despite what the contract stated, she was forced to take care of her employers’ three young children. This put a huge workload on her. “This was the beginning of my suffering,” she says, as a tear runs down her face.

Valerio now realises that what she experienced during her eight months working for the family was abuse. Apart from ignoring almost all the requirements set out in their contract, her employers treated her with contempt.

“I survived on water and crackers. can you imagine that? I survived for eight months” she says. Her employers never asked her if she needed any food.

Valerio says she was also extremely overworked, particularly because she had to care for the young children. “I would usually only go to sleep at 12am. Early in the morning, at 5:30am, they would give me the baby. How should I survive and have the energy to work these shifts, especially without any food?” she says.

“I treat the children like my own family. I really give them my whole love, care and attention, and I always make sure that they’re okay and they’re safe”

Her accommodation was also dire. Valerio was trapped in a small room at the back of the house, with no windows. Her bed faced the back of the washing and drying machines, causing dust and dirt to blow towards her.

Valerio believes the only reason she survived her time at this job was because of the children. “They were the ones who gave me strength” she says. Valerio, who describes herself as a “devoted mum”, explains the unique relationship she has with the children she nannies.

“I treat the children like my own family. I really give them my whole love, care and attention, and I always make sure that they’re okay and they’re safe.”

The emotional aspect of being a domestic worker is often overlooked, says Valerio: “It’s not just housework but it’s also emotional work.”

Eight months into her employment, Valerio began to feel ill. What started as a cough, soon became unbearable. Her employers were unwilling to help. When she finally asked a friend to bring her to a hospital, the doctors at Chelsea Hospital discovered she had developed pneumonia. She was admitted, and spent nine days recovering in hospital, during which her employers never visited. “I felt so hopeless, that even in that situation they never came. I realised that they just don’t care about me,” says Valerio.

“It was really devastating that in a country like the UK, I was able to experience something so dramatic”

This moment of despair was the final straw. Valerio handed in her two-week notice and came by the house to pick up her things, which she discovered neatly packed away into binbags by the front door. Her employer was nowhere to be seen.

Several months later, while Valerio was working for a new employer, she received a bill for £5000 from Chelsea Hospital. Valerio was shocked, but not surprised. She says her previous employer never registered her national insurance number, which is why the hospital charged her as they would a tourist. This was a devastating blow for Valerio, who relies on her weekly paycheck to support her family back home.

“It was disappointing. I said to myself, where can I get 5000 pounds? I have a family to support, I have to send my kids to school.

It was really devastating that in a country like the UK, I was able to experience something so dramatic,” she says.

The dispute about the bill was later settled when, with the help of Valerio’s new employer, she was able to make her previous employer to pay the bill. Since then, Valerio has switched employers twice.

Although she is still a full time domestic worker, her passion is the work she does at the charity, the Voice of Domestic Workers (VODW). The VODW supports domestic workers and helps them navigate their legal status. It also holds classes in IT and English, which helps the workers with the practicalities of their jobs. They teach everything from mindfulness to art. Apart from this, the charity also fights for its members in parliament, and stages protests. Here Valerio has been elected as a member of the board of trustees.

A shocking number of VODW members have been abused. A recent survey published by the charity, found that a large majority (76.5%) of domestic workers working in London have experienced some form of verbal or physical abuse at their workplace. The survey sampled over 2,000 domestic workers and revealed the extent of abuse in the country’s capital.

This is made more difficult because domestic workers in the UK are given only a six month “tied visa”, which prevents them from switching employers. Domestic workers are therefore essentially trapped with their employer by the British government. This makes the prospect of switching employers or reporting abuse difficult.

VODW meets every Sunday, typically the only day off that domestic workers receive, at Unite the Union’s offices in Holborn. Despite having to navigate challenging legal issues, there is a positive atmosphere in the air. It becomes clear that a key component of the charity is its community aspect.

“VODW has become my second home” says Nerissa, who has been a part of the charity for five years. She says “every Sunday we hug, embrace and console each other and eat together like a family. We always ensure that family love is felt, although we’re all so far away from home.”

The charity even holds special seasonal events, such as Christmas parties. Another domestic worker, who only goes by Mary due to her undocumented status, tells me she’s grateful for the friends she has made at the charity: “I have a family here”, she says proudly.