Liza Manlapig never thought her life would revolve around washing, drying, and folding clothes in a foreign land but when dreams are on the line, even the most ordinary tasks can carry extraordinary meaning.
Back in Olongapo City, Liza was a single mother to two young children. Her husband had left years ago, and she’d been raising Carla and Bunso with the help of her aging parents. Liza worked as a helper in a local laundry shop for minimum wage. Every night, she went home with sore hands and clothes smelling of detergent. Yet, despite her efforts, they barely had enough for food, let alone school fees.
One evening, a former co-worker messaged her: “May bakanteng laundry attendant sa hotel dito sa Qatar. Subukan mo.”
Liza hesitated. She had never been on a plane, never held a passport. But her daughter’s worn-out shoes and her son’s thin notebooks pushed her to act. She applied through an agency, sold her small jewelry collection, and left her children in the care of her mother.
In Doha, Liza was hired as a laundry attendant in a five-star hotel. The hotel was vast, filled with marble floors, glimmering lights, and guests in elegant attire. But behind the glitz, the laundry department was a world of steam, pressure, and speed. Liza reported for duty at 6:00 am, sorting hundreds of linens, uniforms, towels, and guest’s clothes.
She learned to operate massive washing machines that looked like they belonged in a spaceship. she pressed garments with industrial irons, carefully folded luxury bedsheets, and memorized fabric types. Every stain had a story and every mistake could mean a deduction or worse, a dismissal.
In her first month, she accidentally scorched a guest’s silk blouse. Her supervisor gave her a warning. Liza cried in the restroom during her break, terrified she might lose her job. But she didn’t give up. She practiced, asked questions, and paid close attention to the smallest details.
Over time, she became one of the most reliable staff in the department. Her co-workers Filipino, Indian, Nepali grew to respect her work ethic. She even taught newer hires how to handle delicate fabrics and organize uniforms by department.
But the job was exhausting. She missed her children terribly. On her days off, she would go to a nearby internet cafe to video chat with them. She’d laugh at Bunso’s silly drawings and help Carla review for tests. She’d say things like, “Mama is folding towels for kings and queens!” just to make them smile.
After two years, Liza had saved enough to send her kids to a better school. She also helped her mother fix the leaking roof back home. For the first time in her life, she had a bank account with real savings. She renewed her contract and continued working.
Now, four years in, Liza has trained as a laundry supervisor in training. Her English has improved, and she’s even learning basic Arabic. Her dream? To open her own self-service laundry shop back in Olongapo a place where single mothers like her can find work, dignity, and hope.
Because for Liza, washing clothes abroad wasn’t just a job. It was her way of rewriting her family’s story one load at a time.
