By Honour Astill
I grew up in Singapore, a place – like Hong Kong and certain Gulf states – where employing domestic helpers is commonplace. These helpers, usually from the Philippines, Indonesia, or Myanmar, live in their employers’ homes and are tasked with cleaning, cooking, and childcare from Monday to Saturday. My family was no exception, and my parents employed domestic helpers with whom I built strong relationships throughout my childhood.
However, those many long, happy, days spent playing with my helper while my parents were at work were periodically punctuated by thoughts that inspired dread and terror in me. Why is it that ____ is here taking care of me instead of her own young children? Why doesn’t ____ get her own place to stay, more than one day a week off, and an independent life in Singapore? Why do other countries seem to get by just fine without helpers? Having forged a friendship with her, I was intimately acquainted with her life and acutely aware of how intractable the problems of distance she faced were.
No job in the world should inspire such a sinking feeling. It represents a perverse incentive to workers from low-income countries such as the Philippines. It deprives families of mothers, which remains a salient fact, given that the gendered division of labour (in which women are disproportionately tasked with childcare) is still alive and well in many Southeast Asian countries. Helpers often tasked with working strenuously, yet enjoy little independence or rest to show for it. In my opinion, rich countries who employ domestic helpers should not take advantage of their relative disadvantage to put women in vulnerable positions, simultaneously depriving them of their family, autonomy, and own place to live.
In countries like Singapore and Hong Kong, a strong emphasis is placed on building the human capital of their citizens – given the paucity of natural resources or land for industry. By employing helpers to fulfil domestic labour tasks, workers can devote their time to profit-generating activities. Given that paying out what is a somewhat menial salary for Singaporean or Hong Kong residents represents a rather desirable amount for the average Filipina or Indonesian, the situation ends up apparently mutually beneficial for both parties. Remittances also represent a strong share of the Philippines’ economy given the amount of foreign workers it exports. So it can be a way to brighten their futures: I have seen many helpers work for a few decades to send money back to their children and build a house before retiring. Hong Kong and especially Singapore are considered the par excellence destinations for helpers in terms of wages. The economic rationale is there. But what about the social and psychological rationale?
It’s an open secret among Singaporean foreigners that the manner in which helpers are treated is often highly variable. Almost any foreigner can afford to employ a helper, meaning the standards for how much money should be spent on sustaining their employee(s) are not particularly high. In one family I know, the helper has a self-contained house to herself that is twice my flat in size. However, for that one story, I have heard countless stories of maids enduring horrible conditions. My first helper decided to leave following a job offer in Hong Kong – who she was told was a French family – who later ended up being a Chinese couple who confiscated her passport and made her work long hours. Denying her the ability to exit that work situation was the major problem; it deprived her financial and social freedom. Furthermore, I can attest to having heard other classmates in my high school literally insist ‘my helper likes sleeping on the floor!’ Routine exposure to people living in such conditions clearly desensitises many to inequality and mistreatment.
The conditions that domestic helpers enjoy is largely subject to their employer’s discretion. Singapore’s Employment of Foreign Manpower Act outlines that employers should ensure their employee gets their own safe room, bed, three square meals a day, and a rest day – but helpers are reluctant to report violations of their rights for fear of angering their employer, who has the power to revoke their employment at any time, threatening their financial security, future work prospects, and their immigration status.
To be clear, this isn’t to say helpers are powerless or lack agency. Rather, in reality helper–employer relationships often end up looking nothing like what you might imagine. One family comes to mind in which I frequently see the helper boss the employer’s child around to run errands as if she were a third parent herself. Many helpers and their employer’s children end up building a relationship that is arguably stronger than that between the parent(s) and child. In another family, I know a helper who one day decided to stop cleaning for a year. Both of these families came from the sort that pays a high salary and grants a lot of independence – perhaps in part from some sense of guilt over how clearly strange the live-in domestic helper system is by their home countries’ standards. However, in those families in which helpers are scared, vulnerable, and subject to mistreatment, human rights are routinely violated behind closed doors.
According to Human Rights Watch, over a third of domestic helpers have reported abuse at the hands of their employer. Abuse of helpers is so commonplace that attention is seldom paid to it until a tragedy occurs. One particularly haunting incident was the murder of Piang Ngaih Don, a Burmese helper who was tortured and murdered by her Singaporean employer. For this, the perpetrator only received 30 years in prison. In the Gulf States, the situation is undoubtedly worse. Helpers are frequently traded on peer-to-peer vendor apps and it is acceptable for employers to withhold the employee’s passports. In Saudi Arabia, where protections are fewest, the Philippine or Indonesian embassies are the only refuge for abused helpers, and its rooms are lined with sprawling bodies like a refugee camp.
On Sundays you might notice how Singapore’s landscape radically changes. On domestic helpers’ days off, some go to church, but many gather with their friends or have picnics. Not able to hang out at their employer’s house, or not really having anywhere else to go, helpers enjoy the parks and malls and for one day seem to enjoy the city like any other resident. In Hong Kong, on the other hand, helpers are relegated to often sitting in groups on the sidewalk on cardboard or plastic mats. The way that the city transforms on those languid Sundays is a startling reminder of the inequalities that are subjected to those who took care of the city’s children.
