Balut Jinny Koh (bio) Angela Flores was twenty when she started work at the Ong’s bungalow, although her work permit said she was twenty-three, the legal age for domestic helpers in Singapore. Her supervisor at the agency had assured her it was just a minor detail, that everyone did that, and as long as the Ongs did not find out, it was okay to lie. “Trust me. Just keep quiet and you’ll be fine,” Mrs Lim said as she handed the contract to Angela. Even under the dull fluorescent light, Mrs Lim’s diamond ring, the size of a chickpea, glittered at all angles. Angela had never seen such a big diamond before, and its price and authenticity were frequent topics of speculation among the domestic helpers in the office. After all, there wasn’t much to do while waiting to be employed. “You want to work here, right?” Mrs Lim went on. “If not, you can go back to the Philippines, you know.” She paused and lifted a brow. “But don’t forget, your air ticket to come here cost money, money which you haven’t paid off.” Angela didn’t want—or rather, couldn’t afford—to go home. Her family depended on her for rent and meals. So she swallowed her doubts, signed the contract, and took a seat with the other women in the small, windowless office at the Bukit Timah Shopping Centre. They were dressed in jeans and the same yellow polo shirt with the company’s logo—Star Maid—emblazoned on the front pocket. Facing a glass panel, they formed one straight row so that any potential employers walking past could get a good look. Most of them, including Angela, kept their hair short with their fringe pinned to the side, while the few sporting long black hair wore them in a tight ponytail. Competition was stiff in this building, where every other unit held a maid agency, so Mrs Lim was particularly strict with their appearance and decorum. No untucked shirts. No snacking. And, most important of all, no sad, dour faces. “No one wants an unhappy maid,” Mrs Lim would say. “They want Star Maids!” With Angela were women of varying ages, some much older, from the Philippines, Indonesia, and Myanmar. Many of them had worked at other homes before a dispute with their employers brought them back to this cramped office. They congratulated Angela on her first job and murmured words of encouragement. Time will pass quickly when you are busy. Don’t call home too often or your boss won’t be happy. And remember, don’t argue. Angela nodded and took in every bit of advice. She knew she needed to “behave well” in order to maintain a good relationship with her bosses. She had heard enough horror stories about employers who abused their domestic helpers—withholding their salaries, hitting them with metal [End Page 40] spatulas and bamboo poles, starving them—and could only pray that the Ongs were going to be kind and gracious. ________ Every day, Angela cleaned the Ong’s three-storey bungalow, washed and ironed their clothes, cooked three meals (four, if Mr Ong worked late), and fed their Jack Russell, Rocky. Even though she had no prior work experience, the Ongs were willing to “try her out” because Mrs Lim had vouched for her character. They had requested for a simple and honest domestic helper, one who was not capable of cheating, finding a boyfriend, or mistreating their son. On the first day of work, Mrs Ong had pulled Angela aside and warned her not to take anything from the house without permission. Not a slice of fish from the fridge or a crumb of biscuit from the pantry. “You want anything, just ask. Don’t steal.” Angela had never stolen anything in her life and was miffed by the woman’s attitude. But she simply said, “Yes, ma’am, I will not take.” Now, Mrs Ong was glaring at her over the dinner table. She was beautiful. Glamorous, actually. Her dyed chestnut hair fell in loose curls down her shoulders, and her skin was fair and smooth, the product...
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