In a quiet barrio in Bohol, the gentle hum of sewing machines often filled the small wooden house of Luzviminda “Luz” Delgado. A seamstress like her mother, Luz learned to sew by hand before she was even ten. She stitched school uniforms for her cousins, repaired worn-out jeans for neighbors, and later, crafted elegant dresses from scraps and hand me down fabrics.
Life in the province was simple but hard, Luz’s husband, a part-time carpenter, brought in what he could, but they often had to choose between buying rice or paying the electricity bill. With three children growing fast and school expenses rising, Luz knew she had to find a way to earn more.
One evening, while resting from a full day of sewing, Luz saw a Facebook post from an agency hiring tailors and seamstresses for a garment factory in Dubai. She stared at the screen for a long time. She had never imagined leaving her country, much less working abroad. But something inside her whispered, “Try.”
The application process was rigorous. She needed to pass skills tests, interviews, and submit numerous documents. With the help of her eldest son, she practiced speaking English, learned the basics of machine embroidery, and managed to scrape together enough money for her processing fees.
By the time her visa was approved, Luz was already dreaming of new fabric, new challenges, and a future where her children wouldn’t have to worry about tuition fees.
In Dubai, she was assigned to a uniform and custom clothing factory. The environment was fast-paced, with quotas and tight deadlines. Unlike her quiet home in Bohol, here she worked among dozens of other women from India, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, and fellow Filipinas. The machines were industrial grade, noisy, and intimidating at first but Luz adjusted quickly.
Though the days were long and her hands often cramped from repetitive stitching, Luz found pride in her work. She contributed to uniforms for big hotels, stitched abayas for local clients, and even helped in designing new patterns. She became the go to person whenever a machine jammed or a complicated order needed extra care.
But her true joy came from the packages she sent home school shoes, tablets for online classes, grocery bundles, and handwritten letters for her children. On Sundays, she video called her family, her voice cracking as she watched her youngest daughter read aloud or her son show his perfect attendance award.
The years passed. Luz returned home for vacation only twice in five years, but her sacrifices bore fruit. Her eldest graduated college and started working in IT. Her husband built an extension to their house. Her daughter, inspired by Luz’s journey, enrolled in a fashion and design course.
In 2025, Luz returned home for good. But she didn’t stop working she opened a small tailoring shop beside their home, named “Biyahe ni Nanay” (Mother’s Journey). It offered free basic sewing classes for out of school youth and low-income mothers. Her dream had come full circle not just to earn, but to uplift.
Luz Delgado wasn’t a celebrity or a CEO. But in every stitch she made whether in a Dubai factory or her humble Bohol shop was a thread of love, courage, and unwavering hope.
