Marilou “Malou” Villanueva was a mother of four from Iloilo who dreamed of giving her children a better life. When her husband’s income as a fisherman could no longer provide for their growing needs, she decided to work abroad as a housekeeper. After months of preparation, she signed a contract and flew to Saudi Arabia a place she had only seen in books and television.
The first few weeks were the hardest. The culture was vastly different from what she was used to in the Philippines. She had to wear an abaya whenever they went outside, prayers echoed from mosques five times a day, and she couldn’t freely go out alone. Her world revolved around the home of her employers, where she was tasked to clean, cook, do laundry, and sometimes assist with childcare.
Her employers were a conservative family. The father rarely spoke to her, and the mother gave her detailed instructions for everything from how to fold the laundry to how to prepare traditional dishes like kabsa and samboosa. At first, Malou felt intimidated, worried she would make mistakes. But slowly, she learned to adjust, observing carefully and practicing silently until she became confident.
The workload was heavy. She woke up before dawn to start cleaning, prepare breakfast, and ensure the household was ready for the day. By night, her back ached, her hands were rough, and her body longed for rest. There were days she felt like giving up, but she reminded herself that each day of work was another step closer to her children’s education and future.
The loneliness was unbearable at times. Unlike in other countries, she couldn’t easily meet other OFWs outside because of stricter rules. Her only solace came from weekly calls to her family. Hearing her children’s voices gave her renewed strength. Whenever her youngest would say, Mama, I miss you, her tears flowed, but she held on to the hope that one day, their sacrifices would bear fruit.
Over time, her employer’s children grew attached to her. They would call her Khadama, but with smiles and laughter. She would braid their hair, teach them simple English words, and sometimes share Filipino snacks she secretly made from ingredients in the kitchen. These little moments lightened her burden.
After two years, Malou renewed her contract. By then, her remittances had already helped her husband buy a small fishing boat and her eldest daughter enter college. Each sacrifice slowly built the dreams she had for her family.
One evening, after finishing her chores, she stood quietly by the window of her small room. The desert night was calm, and the stars above reminded her of the skies back home. She whispered a prayer. Lord, keep my family safe, and give me strength to finish this journey.
Malou’s story was not only about cleaning houses in a foreign land. It was about silent strength, courage in isolation, and a mother’s unyielding love. Though unseen and unheard by many, she carried the quiet dignity of countless OFWs building futures through sacrifice.
