When Arnel Ignacio first stepped onto the factory floor in Taichung, Taiwan, the humming of machines was deafening. But what was louder was the silent vow he made to himself: “Para to sa pamilya ko. Hindi ako susuko.”
Arnel was a 32 year old father of two from Bacoor, Cavite. Back in the Philippines, he worked odd jobs construction helper, tricycle driver, and part time technician. But no matter how hard he worked, the money was never enough. Their house constantly leaked during rainy season, his kids shared a single pair of school shoes, and the bills piled up like laundry no one wanted to touch.
He knew something had to change. When a cousin mentioned job openings for factory workers in Taiwan, Arnel applied with hesitant hope. The processing was long, the placement fee was heavy, but the dream of a better life pushed him forward.
In Taiwan, Arnel worked in an electronics manufacturing company that assembled parts for smartphones. His shift started at 6am and ended at 6pm, six days a week. The work was repetitive soldering, inspection, testing but precision was key. One mistake could lead to a deduction or worse, termination.
At first. Arnel struggled with the language. His supervisor gave instructions in Mandarin, and although there were some Filipino coworkers to help translate, he knew he had to learn fast. So during his breaks, he studied basic Mandarin using a notebook he kept in his locker. Slowly, he learned phrases like I need a break and It’s finished.
Despite the physical exhaustion and homesickness, Arnel found purpose in routine. Ever payday, he sent money home. With his remittances, his wife was able to start a small sari-sari store, and their eldest daughter enrolled in high school without needing to borrow money. The simple things like a photo of his kids smiling or a thank you message from his wife kept him going.
He also found unexpected joy in Taiwan. On Sundays, he explored local night markets with his roommates, trying stinky tofu and bubble tea. He befriended a few locals who appreciated his hard work and curiosity. During the Mid-Autumn Festival, his Taiwanese supervisor even gave him a box of mooncakes and said, “You’re part of the team now.”
Years passed. Arnel renewed his contract twice. He saved religiously and avoided unnecessary expenses. He resisted the temptation to upgrade his phone or buy branded clothes. His eyes were always on the goal: makauwi na may ipon, may negosyo, at makasama ang pamilya.
On his sixth year, Arnel finally flew home for good. At the airport, his children ran to him, older but still with the same warmth in their hugs. His wife cried silently, holding his rough, calloused hands.
With the money he saved, Arnel built a modest but sturdy home. He started a small electronics repair shop in town and even hired one of his jobless neighbors. Today, people call him “Boss Arnel,” but he still remembers the long hours, the homesick nights, and the promise he made on his first day in Taiwan.
He once worked under fluorescent lights and machines that never slept. Now, he works under the sun, with his family beside him and for Arnel Ignacio, that’s the kind of success that no payslip could measure.