When another friend shared a story from her old job, how she used to try to comfort her employer when she began pouring out about her marital problems, only to turn around and order her back to work, I realised I had also worked in a household that was simply not normal.
When another friend shared a story from her old job, how she used to try to comfort her employer when she began pouring out about her marital problems, only to turn around and order her back to work, I realised I had also worked in a household that was simply not normal.
I remembered my employer’s temper, and how hard it was to be around her. Her smile was as rare as sunshine in Ireland. It didn’t always bother me that much as I knew when I was with the kids I found myself smiling from ear to ear. What did bother me was when I was caught between her and her husband’s marital issues, which I very much disliked, and I felt it put me in an awkward position. I was not employed to break fights apart, or to be used as a spy for either’s own interests.
I think of one day when my employer came home and asked me about what her husband was up to during the day while she was at work. He had come a little earlier, late in the afternoon instead of the usual evenings. He looked like he did not want to be disturbed, so I kept the kids away from going to him upstairs. He did not live with them during the week and they were always excited to see him every weekend, so keeping them away from him was a bit of a challenge. However, the early arrival of either parent did not mean my work was finished, not even when they had nothing to do and just watched TV.
After my employer got home and her husband went out, she started a conversation, at first about the kids, but soon moving on to what time their dad arrived home that afternoon, which I answered politely. She then asked if he was on the phone the entire time he was upstairs; I told her I had heard him on the phone but I could not hear what he was saying, and did not know how long he was talking. But she didn’t stop there, pressing me on who he was talking to. I was disgusted to think that she knew exactly how much work I did in her house, so did she honestly expect me to stop what I was doing and eavesdrop on her husband’s phone conversations for her? Why on earth would I do such a thing, especially for her? Why did she not phone him and ask for herself? What business of mine were her husband’s phone conversations?
I realised then how strange some people are. Not only did my employer expect me to toil so hard for almost nothing, she also expected me to do her dirty work and use me to spy on her partner. I had enough of my own problems to worry about, not to be burdened with such dirty work.
It’s shocking how some people expect their domestic workers to be everything, someone to talk to when emotionally in need but discard when their needs are met. They never for a moment think that we are forced to take all their personal problems in, day in and day out, but never have them to talk to when we need our own shoulders to cry on. They drain us in all forms until we remain but walking corpses.
To be continued...
Mariaam Bhatti is a member of the Domestic Workers Action Group and Forced Labour Action Group of the Migrant Rights Centre Ireland.
