The brown mark on Amy’s right arm constantly reminds her that life’s problems cannot be easily ironed out. She was just 16 years old when she survived the heat of the burning flat iron pressed against her arm during her ward’s birthday party.

Amy’s childlike mirth and stubbornness hide her life’s deep scars. She was only 14 when she left her grandmother’s care. She had never been inside a classroom; she had only the love of her grandmother who lived in Catubig, Northern Samar.

Amy was convinced by Rowena, a distant relative and trusted neighbor, to work as a maid in her house in Sta. Rosa, Laguna. Amy had always wanted to go to Manila because she thought that one could see movie stars there everywhere one goes, and one could even end up working in their households.

Instead, Amy ended up serving not only Rowena, but also eight other members of Rowena’s family, including her bedridden mother. She cooked breakfast as early as 4 am; then, she would accompany the school-age children to school. She would pedal a three-wheeled bike loaded with all the children as well as the bags and books that they were carrying, which Amy could only dream of using herself someday.

Returning from her school trip by 8 am, Amy would single-handedly serve those who were left in the house. She would do the laundry, clean the house, wash dishes and do numerous odd jobs until lunchtime, when she would cook and serve the family again. She would continue to maintain order in the house until late afternoon, when she would fetch the schoolchildren again. By night, she would be too exhausted to take a bath, and would wake up the next morning wearing the same clothes as the day before.

Being the servant of a household with nine members was not easy. Amy says that she was always treated like a slave who was expected to obey orders humbly and without complaint, and she was immediately punished for even the slightest mistake. She had always to be on guard to respond to every whim of the master, she recalls, as if she did not have a mind of her own. Indeed, although she was already 16, she was treated like a kulang-kulang (ignoramus). She also grew to hate her kinky hair because her employers always made jokes about it, saying that it was proof that she was from an indigenous tribe from the mountains.

Amy would later on forgive her employers for the beatings and verbal abuse that she endured. “I pity my employer’s five kids,” she said without any hint of bitterness. She has decided not to file any child abuse case against her employers. But she has not forgotten their constant cruelty.

“They always accused me of stealing every missing item in the house. They didn’t trust me because they thought I was stealing money to buy candies,” Amy said. In reality, she still remembers the sweetness of the candies and chocolates she merely dreamt about during her toughest times, a daydream that kept her spirits up.

Once when Amy was accused of stealing money and her employers could not find the missing cash in her room, they made her choose between two methods of punishment. “Eman, my employer’s nephew, offered to either hit me in the face or strangle my neck until I confessed,” she said.

Amy didn’t much like Eman because he was supposed to take care of Rowena’s ailing mother, but Amy ended up doing this by herself. Moreover, Eman was not nice to her from the start. His creativity in subjecting her to practical jokes that bordered on cruelty never seemed to run out. Amy never fought back; she was no match for his strong build.

It was during the birthday party of Rowena’s daughter that Amy and Eman’s silent war turned dirty. Everyone was preparing for the party, and Amy was told not to touch the lemons inside the refrigerator because they would be used for the pansit (noodle dish) that was to be served at the party. While Amy was ironing clothes, Eman took some of the lemons and used them to clean his fingers without Amy’s knowledge. Upon discovering this, Amy asked Eman why he had used the lemons. She got the most unexpected reply – a strong press of a burning flat iron on her right arm. Traumatized, Amy sought the help of her employers, but they did nothing. They didn’t even bother to bring her to a clinic for medical attention.

Amy only drew strength from the thought that she would earn some money for her grandmother as a reward for patiently enduring her situation. Her salary was sent directly to her parents in Samar, which was why she didn’t receive it regularly. But when she talked to her mother over the phone, Amy found out that her parents had received only the measly amount of P2,000 for her almost one year of service.

“I never got hold of any money or salary,” Amy tearfully recounts. Later on, after her rescue, she would single-mindedly pursue a complaint at the National Labor Relations Commission to claim her unpaid wages.

Her patience snapped when Rowena didn’t allow her to go home for her grandmother’s wake. Her natural strong will at last prompted her to escape.

Luckily, Amy met some good Samaritans who gave her refuge for a few days. A vendor introduced her to another employer within the village, who took Amy in for three days before calling the VF hotline. The marks on Amy’s body were subsequently examined by PGH doctors.

Amy stayed at the VF shelter for three long years. During her stay, she became a very active and cheerful advocate of domestic workers’ rights. She enjoyed VF’s games and group activities because finally she knew how it felt to belong, to learn from others, to be respected for one’s painful past.

By the time she won her salary claims and returned home, Amy was no longer ashamed. The flat iron’s marks on her arm will burn her no more.