Rani’s Story

Extended Title Here Instead?

With more time on my hands, I learned about migrant workers’ rights and found a supportive community. I met others who had walked the same path. I decided I no longer wanted to remain a victim of my own unawareness. In that moment, it felt like a new light was shining on my life.
- Rani

I consider myself a simple woman from Indonesia. My formal education ended after junior high school, but my determination has always reached higher than any mountain. As the eldest daughter, I carried the weight of responsibility, supporting my parents and helping my younger siblings continue their studies.

In 2016, with nothing but hope and prayer, I left my homeland and became a migrant domestic worker in Singapore. Life abroad was nothing like the stories shown on television. Yes, the pay was higher, but the emotional and physical pressures were far heavier than I had ever imagined. I had no days off, no contact with the outside world, not even with my own family. I endured it all in silence, swallowing my tears and hiding my pain, just waiting for the days to pass.

After two years, my contract ended and I returned home. But the dream of enjoying the fruits of my labour never came to pass. My family was still struggling, and my youngest sibling still needed support to finish school. 

In 2019, I returned to Singapore. At first, my new employer seemed better. But during my second term, everything changed. My rest hours became irregular. They would unleash their anger upon me without warning. Once again, I was cut off from all communication — no calls, no messages, nothing. I lived in deep isolation with no friends and no family, only myself to rely on.

As my contract neared its end, I gathered the courage to ask for a transfer. My employer agreed, or so I thought. One morning, my agency suddenly arrived and told me to pack immediately without any explanation. I later discovered my employer had already hired someone else behind my back.

I was devastated. I had only two weeks to find a new job. I didn’t know where to turn, and I didn’t want my family to worry, so I quietly returned home. In that moment of darkness, however, something in me changed. With more time on my hands, I learned about migrant workers’ rights and found a supportive community. I met others who had walked the same path. I decided I no longer wanted to remain a victim of my own unawareness. In that moment, it felt like a new light was shining on my life.

I found a new employer and I am now allowed to communicate freely. I have rest days (even though there is still work to be done), and I can join a community. I am now in my second term with this employer. And the greatest joy of all: my youngest sibling has finally graduated from vocational school.

My journey is not over as I still have rights to fight for. But now, I am no longer alone. I have knowledge. I have a voice. And I have courage.

Rest, communication, and connection are not luxuries. They are basic human rights, and we must continue to fight for them.