When Eduardo “Ed” Morales first saw the towering skyscrapers of Doha, he couldn’t help but feel a mix of awe and fear. The skyline was a collection of steel, glass, and ambition a far cry from the rice fields of Nueva Ecija where he grew up. he had come to Qatar to work as a scaffolder, a job that required him to climb dizzying heights and ensure that massive construction projects could stand tall and safe.
Ed’s journey began out of necessity. His father had passed away early, leaving him as the eldest son to support his mother and three younger siblings. Farming wasn’t enough to cover school fees and household expenses, so when a recruitment agency advertised job openings in Qatar’s booming construction industry, Ed applied without hesitation.
The first weeks on site were the toughest. The heat was merciless, often climbing above 45 degree celcius, and the work was physically punishing. He had to wear a hard hat, gloves, harness, and steel-toe boots, even when the sun felt like it was baking the ground beneath him. His job was wo assemble and dismantle scaffolding systems, sometimes hundreds of feet above the ground. One wrong move could mean disaster.
At night, Ed shared a cramped room in a labor camp with five other OFWs. They came from different provinces, but they bonded over shared struggles missing home, counting down to payday, and sending money back to their families. Ed often cooked sinigang or adobo on weekends, using ingredients from the small Filipino store nearby, just to feel a taste of home.
One project stood out in his memory: the construction of a luxury hotel overlooking the Persian Gulf. It was a high-profile contract, and deadlines were tight. One day, while adjusting the upper platforms, Ed noticed a loose coupling on a section of scaffolding. Without thinking twice, he reported it to the site supervisor, even though it meant delaying work for a few hours. The decision prevented what could have been a major accident, and his supervisors commended his attention to safety. That moment reinforced Ed’s belief that his work wasn’t just about putting up metal frames it was about protecting lives.
Despite the challenges, Ed found small joys. Payday phone calls to his mother, seeing his siblings photos in their school uniforms, and hearing his youngest brother say, Kuya, someday I’ll be the one to work for you, kept him going.
After five years, Ed returned to the Philippines for a short vacation. The once half-finished family home was now complete, with concrete walls and a sturdy roof, thanks to his remittances. His siblings were in college, and his mother no longer worried about where the next meal would come from.
When it was time to return to Qatar, Ed no longer saw himself as just a laborer. He was part of the invisible workforce that built cities and shaped skylines. For him, each beam he secured was more than steel it was a step toward his family’s brighter future.
Ed’s story is a reminder that sometimes, the greatest heights we reach aren’t measured in meters above the ground, but in the lives we lift up along the way.
