My name is Junmar, a 32 year old construction worker from Iloilo. Back in the Philippines, I used to take on any labor work I could find carpentry, welding, anything that could help me feed my wife and two kids. Life was simple, but never easy. My income was never enough, and there were days when we had to borrow money just to buy rice.
I used to look at the construction sites in the city and wonder how much the workers abroad were earning. I’d hear stories of men who left for the Middle East and came home after a few years with new houses, motorcycles, and enough savings to send their kids to college. I wanted that too not for luxury, but for security. So, I applied to a manpower agency and waited.
After almost a year of paperwork, fees, and medical tests, I was finally deployed to Doha, Qatar, as a steel welder for a large construction firm. It was my first time flying, and as the plane left the ground, I looked out the window with both hope and fear. I was excited to earn more, but I knew it would come with a price.
When I arrived, the heat struck me first. The desert sun in Qatar was unlike anything back home. We worked 10-hour shifts six days a week, often under the blazing sun. The foremen were strict, and there was little room for error. I lived in a labor camp with five other Filipinos, all of us sharing stories of home at night while lying on our bunk beds.
Every payday, I sent most of my salary home half for my kids schooling, the rest for our house loan and daily needs. I kept only a small amount for myself, enough for toiletries and the occasional treat of Jollibee whenever we went to the mall on Fridays, our only rest day.
It wasn’t easy. I missed birthdays, anniversaries, even when my youngest got hospitalized for dengue. My wife shouldered everything alone while I was thousands of kilometers away, feeling helpless and guilty. But every time I’d hear y kids voices over the phone saying “Miss ka na namin, Papa,” I’d find new strength.
Over the years, I learned more than just welding techniques. I learned discipline, teamwork, and the true meaning of sacrifice. I watched fellow OFWs break down from homesickness or get cheated by recruiters, and I reminded myself daily that I was here for a purpose.
After five long years, I came home for good. With the money I saved, I finished building our house and started my own small welding shop. It’s not a big business, but it’s mine. I now earn from the skills I honed abroad, but I do it while watching my kids grow up.
Being an OFW shaped me. It taught me that success isn’t always about wealth it’s about endurance, sacrifice, and love for family. I may have built skyscrapers abroad, but the greatest thing I built was a better future for my children.
