She was a diminutive woman with a quiet manner and a kind face.
She pushed the stroller with the little boy as her “Madam” walked ahead at a fast pace. Her uniform was a long checked shirt with loose trousers. She was not spoken to except to be given instructions. Her charge in the stroller let out a cry and the woman walking in front of her turn back to glare at her. “Keep him quiet” she snarled. As her employer entered shop after shop she was given heavy shopping bags to hold as well. Finally after 3 hours they returned home.
She lived in a small room cum store in the corner of the 5 bedroom villa. Her work had been detailed to her since the day she arrived from Philippines. She was to clean the entire villa every day, do the laundry and ironing and look after the little boy who was not yet going to school. Another maid was there before her and had the bigger room. She did the cooking and looked after the elder girl when she was not in school. She was from Indonesia and didn’t speak much.
Their madam did not beat them like the stories she had heard from other people; she gave them food and one day off every month, but she was not kind either. They were allowed to phone home once a month only.
She lived for the 15 minutes she would get to talk to her family every month.
She had left her 5 year old son with her sister and come to work in the Emirates so her son could have a better life. Her husband had left her for another woman years ago and didn’t bother to send their son any money. Now thanks to the money she was sending home he was going to a good school and could buy his books and clothes. But her heart would break every time her son would ask her when she was coming home. She would keep telling him soon but she knew she had 18 months left before she could go home.
She also looked forward to the half hour she had every afternoon when she would take the little boy to the park. She could talk to the other maids while keeping an eye on the boy. She felt she could breathe again when she was out of the house.
That fateful day as she was bringing the boy back home in his stroller, her mind was elsewhere. Her son was sick and she had not been able to talk to him during the call. She was so occupied in her thoughts that she didn’t see the yellow sports car speeding down the street as she crossed the road. She was shaken out of her reverie as the car honked. She panicked as she saw the car heading for the stroller. She only had seconds to make a decision. She pushed the stroller hard out of the way and braced herself. The brakes screeched but it was too late.
As she lay dying on the street she saw the boy crying in his stroller. He was crying for her. She had saved him, but her mind had only one thought.
“Who will save my son now?”
This story has been written in response to the Daily Prompt: Imagine All the People and inspired by a scene at a mall.
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Sad.
Sorry. Here’s something that will make you happy: http://wp.me/p3LoF9-5C
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You’re a great writer. What a tragic story. I couldn’t stop reading.
Thank you so much. Based on the lives of countless of maids you see in Dubai, I’m hoping none of them has such a tragic end. But the story highlights the sacrifices they make for their families.
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I couldn’t stop reading after I started. It’s a sad and tragic story… But I like the way you wrote it. 🙂
Thanks much appreciated!