Jericho “Jay” Morales, thirty-five and soft-spoken, never thought that a simple pair of scissors could take him halfway around the world.
Growing up in Tondo, Manila, Jay learned to cut hair in his father’s tiny barbershop a one chair setup with a cracked mirror and a rickety electric fan. They called it Morales Gupitan. It was humble, but it served the community. His father taught him early: Hair grows fast, but trust grows slowly. Every client is a relationship.
Jay dreamed of expanding their shop, maybe opening a second branch. But when his father fell ill, and his two younger siblings still need school support, reality hit. The small earnings from the barbershop weren’t enough. That’s when a regular customer, who had just returned from Dubai, said, Barbers here earn triple what you do, Jay. Think about it. He did.
Within six months, Jay was hired by a modern men’s grooming salon in Dubai, a far cry from the simple clippers and comb setup he knew. The shop had sleek black chairs, air conditioning that never broke, imported hair products, and a mostly Arab and South Asian clientele.
His first few weeks were nerve-wracking. Clients spoke in accents he couldn’t always understands, some asked for styles he had never done fades, skin tapers, beard sculpting. In the Philippines, it was mostly crew cuts and undercuts. Here, appearance was everything.
But Jay adapted. He studied new techniques after work, watched endless tutorials, and practiced on fellow OFWs during his free time. Slowly, customers started asking for that Filipino guy, Jay. His attention to detail, light hands, and quiet but respectful demeanor earned their trust.
Jay also found pride in grooming people from all walks of life Emirati businessmen, Indian IT workers, even Filipino seafarers on vacation. He once gave a clean shave and haircut to a nervous young man who said it was for his wedding the next day. Afterward, the groom to be shook his hand and said, You didn’t just cut my hair you gave me confidence. Those moments reminded Jay why he loved what he did.
Back home, his remittances kept the family a float. His sister became a nurse. His younger brother finished automotive school. They fixed the barbershop, even if no one used it now that Jay was gone. He missed the old chair, his father’s quiet humming, and the smell of bay rum aftershave.
Life in Dubai wasn’t easy long hours on his feet, missing Christmases, and surviving on instant noodles to save more. But he also found a second family among his co-workers, mostly Filipino and Nepali barbers, who shared laughter, food, and the same homesickness.
After four years, Jay had saved enough to open a modern barbershop in Manila under his own name Jay’s Barbers Club. He hired three barbers, gave one of them free training, and made sure to include a section for beard care something he learned from Dubai.
Though he still worked abroad to support the business, Jay knew he was finally cutting a path not just for himself, but for others.
Because for him, being a barber wasn’t just about grooming appearances it was about restoring dignity, one haircut at a time.
