Amid a lonely Ramadan, these domestic helpers find joy and comfort in breaking fast together

During a typical morning in the month of Ramadan, domestic helper Fatma Wati would already be up before dawn to prepare for sahur, or pre-dawn meal.

As she's unable to eat with her own family, who are thousands of miles away in her home country Indonesia, the 40-year-old would often video call them on her mobile phone.

But while these calls are a way for Fatma to stay connected with her loved ones, it undeniably cannot mask the longing that she often feels for them, having worked in Singapore for 16 years and counting. 

"It's very sad," Fatma, a single mother to two children, shared with AsiaOne in Bahasa Indonesia. "My daughters sometimes ask when they can be together again with their mother."

Fatma's experience and sentiments, particularly during Ramadan, are not an exception among Muslim foreign domestic helpers like herself.

Many spend years, even decades, in Singapore to make a living, and so have little choice but to mark the holy month — often regarded as a time for family and community — without their loved ones.

As fellow domestic helper Rusmini, 59, shared: "I break fast by myself. I also have my pre-dawn meal on my own in my room so as not to disturb my employers." 

Mudya, who has been working here for 14 years, recalled how her first Ramadan experience in Singapore was the most challenging.

"I would always cry because I missed my children," the 50-year-old mother of three shared, her eyes welling up with tears. "In my early days here, I would feel sad because I couldn't be with my family."

Due to the nature of their employment, domestic helpers are contractually bound by their work commitments in the country. While they're still able to return home, their work obligations here make it difficult to do so whenever they please.

A family away from home

But while Fatma, Rusmini and Mudya have to grapple with their emotions and homesickness, they have also found comfort, support and sisterhood from a community of Indonesian helpers like themselves, known as Suara Kita (which translates to Our Voice).

This support group was set up in August 2019 under the auspices of migrant advocacy group Humanitarian Organization for Migration Economics (Home). 

Members of this community gather every Sunday, often to discuss or take part in activities such as self-improvement workshops and programmes. So during Ramadan, they make it a point to break fast, or iftar, together.

AsiaOne attended their iftar gathering on April 9 at their designated space — a modest-sized stall at Paya Lebar that has been repurposed into a meeting area, nestled between nail salons and humble clothing stores.

The room was mostly empty of tables and chairs, with raffia mats used for sitting. Ketupat ribbons adorned the ceiling to mark the coming of Hari Raya Aidilfitri. And interestingly, pasted on a wall was a copy of an article about domestic helper Parti Liyani.

The room was brimming with activity and chatter when we arrived, with members already seated in a circle having their own discussions.

But at 6.30pm, the room transformed into a communal dining space as women busied themselves with food preparations in time to break their fast — serving bowls of mee bakso (Indonesian meatballs and noodle soup), plates full of fruits, bee hoon goreng, pastries, crackers and more.

"We're having a potluck, so we made food that we like," Fatma explained. "When we get together to break fast, we get to feel a sense of family even though this is just with our peers.

"When it's not the fasting month, we seldom do this. Once we're done with our meetings here, we head off to do our own thing."

As they broke their fast, the women in the room shared stories, laughter and good food — a much-needed remedy for what's often a solitary daily experience for many of them this Ramadan.

This space not only allows these women to be among their peers, but provides a safe bubble within a society that often doesn't or makes little effort to see beyond their role as domestic helpers.

And behind these jovial faces, there lies eye-opening — and often difficult — personal histories. Fatma, for example, has a teenage daughter who battled and overcame cancer. But she wasn't able to see her daughter through much of her treatment, something that any mother would struggle with. 

Rusmini candidly shared that her husband has a second wife in Indonesia, where polygamy is allowed. While some women may find this a bitter pill to swallow, she has accepted her circumstances with grace.

"It's the will of God," she mused. "I am already content working here, Alhamdulillah (praise be to God). I have a good employer who is also understanding. Because of that I'm grateful."

'It's less lively for us'

Having sahur or breaking fast alone and having to contend with feelings of isolation are just some of the challenges these helpers face when observing Ramadan here. Some are put in a bind when dealing with employers who may not always be sensitive to their cultural or religious obligations.

Fatma, for example, revealed that a former employer wouldn't allow her to fast as they were apparently concerned that going without food or water would affect her ability to carry out her tasks. "They were worried that I would faint [if I fast]," Fatma explained, so back then she could only fast on her days off on Sundays.

Fortunately for her now, she shared that her current employers were considerate and sensitive towards her need to fast and were fully supportive.

Comparisons between Singapore and home are also inevitable and only human. When asked about differences between Ramadan in Singapore versus in Indonesia, they noted a keener sense of the kampung spirit back in their hometowns compared to urban life in Singapore.

"Because in [my hometown], the place is very spread out. So when it's time for sahur, someone will go around the kampung shouting 'Sahur, sahur!' to wake people up," explained Rusmini, who comes from Cirebon on the island of Java. "Here in Singapore, there's no need for this. 

"And at night, when we go for terawih prayers (special prayers during Ramadan) at the mosque, we'll go as one kampung."

As they're ultimately here to work, these domestic helpers may not have the time or opportunity to experience Ramadan as wholly as they would like. Even while they were digging into their meals during the iftar session, we learned that one helper wasn't able to join them as her employer needed her to help prepare food for Ramadan.

Being away from home also means not being able to enjoy as many traditional foods from their home country. As Fatma said: "Sometimes we do feel sad because we don't get to enjoy fasting [as much]. We don't always get to eat the food that we want, the kind of food that we normally prepare in Indonesia to break fast.

"But we're still grateful that we do get to fast."

Rusmini added: "We feel a sense of separation from our families especially during the month of Ramadan, so it's less lively for us."

While the festivities in bazaars at Geylang Serai would put many of us in a celebratory mood, for helpers like Fatma it can be difficult to deal with. During periods like this, Fatma shared that she would try to avoid heading to the bazaar and would even choose to spend time at other places like Chinatown instead.

While it may sound odd, the reason for this is a sadly sympathetic one: "If I see Hari Raya clothes and food, I'll be reminded of my family in Indonesia. So I prefer to go to other places as I can enjoy myself more and won't feel sad." 

Sacrifices for the sake of their children

The iftar session at Suara Kita came to an end almost as soon as it began, as several helpers had to pack up and leave to return to their employers' residence — with some staying as far away as Yishun and Jurong, and others having to return before a certain time.

The room was then filled with a rush of activity as they began packing the remaining food and cleaning up. The women bid their goodbyes, wishing each other a meaningful Hari Raya Aidilfitri.

Earlier on, there had been discussions about organising an open house on that day, but most helpers would not be able to attend.

"Don't expect to get a day off during the first day of Hari Raya," Mudya said with a laugh. "It's the most important day, so I have to help prepare food for my employer's open house. We're expecting up to 100 guests!"

Hearing their stories, one can only admire their resilience, patience and strength of will to continue working here for the sake of their families back home despite the challenges faced.

Fatma, Rusmini and Mudya were not resentful of their circumstances and even made it a point to say that they were grateful, especially for having caring and supportive employers. As Rusmini put it: "We have to live on with patience and trust in God's plan."

"My children understand that their mother is striving for the family, and they appreciate my efforts," Mudya shared. "Sacrifices have to be made in order to achieve success. This is something that I want to impart on my children.

"Their mother is away not because she doesn't love them. She's away from home because she has to."

ALSO READ: From homeless to Girls' Home: She now has an online clothing business and a stall at Geylang Ramadan bazaar

shakylla.saifudin@asiaone.com

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