Where have all the long-staying kasambahays gone?
I had found and thanked God for Ping, a wonderful kasambahay who came to my family this year. Unfortunately, my housemate will soon be leaving to join her husband after he leaves his job in Batangas and heads back to their Bicol hometown, where they slowly built a home. How can I stop Ping from living in the same city, under the same roof, with her life partner? I know I can’t.
Since having my own household, there were gems who stayed briefly, and others for years. There was my son’s Yaya Marivic, who cooked mouthwatering dishes and was secretly pirated by my dad’s executive assistant, Dandan, who left to finish college; and the best one of all—Yaya Fely.
Fely started as a caregiver to my then one-year-old daughter. But after the pandemic, when my three-maid household shrank to just one, Yaya suggested I stop looking for replacements and agreed to become the sole all-around kasambahay. She was meticulous about cleaning, cooked delicious dishes, washed clothes immaculately and knew where everything was. In her 22 years of service, she was not a maid to us but “family.”
Yaya laughed, cried, and held our hands constantly. As a working mama for almost 40 years, having her as a “surrogate mom” was a blessing that let me focus on work and travel. I knew she would stand before a speeding truck to save my children if it came down to that. By God’s grace, my kids never had major scrapes.
Fely’s integrity and loyalty were unquestionable. Jewelry and money were always returned. When other moms tried to poach her with higher pay, she declined. She even saved my daughter’s classmate from drowning at a birthday party. While the other yayas chatted in cabanas, Fely kept an eye on my daughter and spotted another girl grasping for air in the deep end. She jumped into the water without hesitation and rescued her.
When diabetes complications slowed her down, she had to retire in her early 50s. Yet after returning to Southern Leyte, she never disappeared from our family’s radar.
Yaya still comes for a few weeks, sometimes a month or two, every year. When I was diagnosed with cancer in 2024, she came to take over housekeeping at home and cook for me till I was stronger. As soon as she arrived, she gave me a hug and said, “I love you,” with a look of worry that made me feel so loved. I hugged her back. Then she unpacked the kakanin she brought for my husband and sought out her “baby girl” alaga.
These days, finding a household helper is like watching a soap opera or K-drama. Many applicants now prefer specialized roles—cook, cleaner or laundry and ironing helper—rather than the all-around work that was once common. Wi-Fi and a room with an electric fan are a must. One cook applicant of a friend even laid out her terms: eat out or order food if she has to cook for more than five. Some even want an advance for personal loans.
Where are the gems like Fely and Ping? Some work abroad, stay in their provinces, take stay-out jobs, or stay home to care for loved ones. As a result, “amos” like me are learning to cope. We hire day maids, have food delivered and buy spiffy tools and appliances. If you’re fortunate to have someone great in your household, treasure her dearly.
The good thing is that many husbands like mine—lucky me—cook, do laundry, market and share homemaking with their wives.
A close friend recently said, “Helpers are like dinosaurs. They’re getting more and more extinct.”
Maybe my friend is right. But perhaps people like Fely and Ping are not really disappearing. They’re simply choosing lives that make sense for them and the families they love. We can understand that and still be thankful for their time with us.
I thank God for the years He gave me a housekeeper like Fely, and for the time I still have with Ping. Some people stay with us for decades; others pass through for only a season. Either way, they leave their
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