Mariaam Bhatti: Tales of a Domestic Worker
Being able to read, write and speak English understandably is not enough on its own if one is not assertive and confident to stand their ground when needed. A perfect example of this was when my former domestic employer paid me only €200 instead of the usual €400 for a month’s work. That rate never changed, even when days were longer or the month had more than four weeks. I recall that particular month I had asked my employer to pay me weekly, as there were times I needed money during the month but had to wait until the end. She flatly refused to that change, but did concede to an advance of €200 on that month’s pay. However, when the end of the month came I was not paid the balance.
When a week had passed and she had still not said anything about the remaining money, I decided to remind her, and she angrily retorted: “I will pay you! Is there a month that I have not paid you?” All I thought to myself was that a simple notice of delay would have been nice. I don’t know if she felt there was no need to explain anything to a servant.
Domestic workers are people, with plans of their own, and they have their own responsibilities with their money. I may have been spending most of my time saying ‘yes ma’am’ or ‘no ma’am’ and scrubbing her messy bathroom, but I am human, a sibling, a mother, a daughter. That incident had caused me worry, and I had already begun to fret about the safety of my wages under the mattress. So a bank account was necessary.
Not deterred by my employer’s complaints of all the things I needed to open my own bank account, I went to the bank to enquire on my own. There I was told I needed proof of address in my own name, which I didn’t have – though that was solved easily when the bank sent me a letter with details of their services, which counted as proof enough.
With that out of the way, there only remained my undocumented status, and I was not sure if they would help me if they realised that. But for some reason my immigration status was not a major issue, and in a few minutes I had my first bank account in Ireland. I didn’t know much about the bank, or how many other banks there were to choose from, as this was the only bank in the area. What was important was that I had somewhere safe to tuck my hard-earned money.
That same day I told my employer that I had opened a bank account and requested that from then onwards she transfer my salary to my account at the end of the month. That time she didn’t say she would think about it, as she usually would. Rather, she bluntly refused – which left me wondering if I had suggested something bad. From that day onward, I started taking my earnings to the bank as soon as I got paid.
By the last day of that financial integration course I wrote about previously, I looked back and thought to myself ‘My God! I have learnt a lot since I left that house!’ I also realised the need for domestic workers not to let their employers control every single thing they do. I have to thank Smashing Times Theatre taking us on that journey of personal development through awareness of money matters.
Mariaam Bhatti is a member of the Domestic Workers Action Group and Forced Labour Action Group of the Migrant Rights Centre Ireland.
