Rafael “Raffy” Dela Cruz, 37, grew up surrounded by carabaos and rice fields in San Jose, Nueva Ecija. His parents were farmers, and he learned early on how to till soil, wake up before sunrise, and live off the land. Life was simple, nut never easy.
After Typhoon Yolanda destroyed their small rice field and left them deep in debt, Raffy realized that working hard in the Philippines was no longer enough. His two kids were growing, school fees were rising, and the harvest were unpredictable. A friend from the barangay told him about job openings in New Zealand’s dairy industry, saying, “Pare, they need farm workers there. Mas mataas ang sahod, and they train you.”
Skeptical but desperate, Raffy sold his motorcycle to pay for processing fees and underwent training. Within the year, he was on a plane to Waikato, one of New Zealand’s dairy capitals, hired as a herd assistant on a large scale dairy farm.
The cold slapped his face the moment he stepped off the plane. The rolling green fields were beautiful but intimidating. Cows hundreds of them grazed calmly, and the machinery was far more advanced than what he knew. For a man who grew up using wooden tools and manual labor, the automated milking sheds, GPS-tagged herds, and strict hygiene protocols were overwhelming.
The language barrier didn’t help. Though most Kiwis were friendly, they spoke fast, used slang, and expected Raffy to learn quickly. His first few weeks were filled with mistakes missing feeding schedules, struggling with the quad bike, and mixing up cow IDs. There were days he wanted to quit, nights he cried silently in his bunk, wondering if he had made the wrong decision. But Raffy was no stranger to hardship.
He studied during breaks, asked questions humbly, and built rapport with his fellow Filipino workers, who encouraged him not to give up. One Maori farm manager, Jack, noticed Raffy’s persistence and began mentoring him. You don’t have to be fast, Jack told him once, Just be consistent.
Within a year, Raffy became one of the most reliable workers on the farm. He handled calving season with care, learned how to detect early signs of animal illness, and even trained in operating the computerized milking machines.
Every month, he sent money home enough to pay off their land debt, buy his children laptops for school, and help his wife start a small sari-sari store. On video calls, his kids proudly showed him their medals and drawings, always ending with “Ingat ka d’yan, Papa.”
By his third year, the farm offered him a long-term contract and promotion as a senior farmhand. He was even enrolled in a leadership course to manage a team. But Raffy’s dreams didn’t stop there.
He began saving for a small dairy venture back home. His vision: a local farm with imported practices better cow nutrition, sustainable systems, and direct milk selling. One day, he told his wife, we won’t just be sending money we’ll be creating jobs back home.
In the quiet of the New Zealand dawn, with mist over the paddocks and cows lining up for milking, Raffy often whispered prayers of gratitude. He left the Philippines as a struggling farmer. Now, he was a skilled dairyman shaping a better life for his family one sunrise, one bucket of milk, one dream at a time.
