When I was fifteen years old, my family moved from Singapore to Manila, Philippines. It had been three years since the execution of Flor Contemplacion, a Filipino domestic worker who was accused of murdering a child in Singapore. Being from Singapore and having access to only one side of the story, I didn’t question what I knew until I learned a different narrative in the Philippines. Although this novel is not a retelling of those specific events, it was inspired by my formative experience of traversing places and their truths.
A quarter of the world’s 11.5 million migrant domestic workers are women from the Philippines. As nannies, cleaners, elder-care nurses, and cooks, they keep households running while navigating life in foreign countries. Often unseen until something goes wrong, they are vulnerable to exploitation in systems that do not protect them. I wrote this novel with hope for more dignity, compassion, and recognition of women like Cora, Angel, Donita, and Flordeliza.
I want to take this opportunity as well to remember the families and communities affected by extrajudicial violence in the Philippines. Since 2016, the “war on drugs” has claimed the lives of over twelve thousand Filipinos (according to Human Rights Watch statistics). The website Paalam.org pays tribute to some of the victims. Many, like Raymond, were young people.