Before moving to Kenya, along with updating our vaccines and strategically packing our belongings to fit our meager bag allowance, one of the things I prepared myself for was the possibility of having house help. Both my husband and I would be working and we’d be living in a rural area, so we’d need someone to help look after our son. And unless I wanted to spend 20 hours a week washing our clothes by hand, we’d need to hire some house help. I’m not exaggerating when I say I hated the idea.
I consider myself hardworking and self-reliant, so I hated the idea of someone doing something for me that I could do myself. I’m a private person, so I hated the idea of someone observing, maybe judging, the interior of our lives. I’m a natural people pleaser, so I hate the idea of being someone’s boss in my own home.
More than anything I hated the prospect of putting someone in, what I thought, was a subservient position and, if I’m being honest with myself, bringing someone in who would be a continual reminder of the uncomfortable inequities of the world. Someone who could see what we spent on things like groceries and petrol and compare that unfavorably with her monthly salary.
And coming from the US, there was probably something in the recesses of my subconscious that was reflexively uncomfortable with being a light skinned person hiring a darker skinned person to clean my unmentionables. It’s a relationship loaded with historic and cultural baggage.
I was about as uncomfortable with the idea of taking on house help as I was with the very real possibility of my family getting typhoid and malaria. It’s true.
But, when we arrived in Busia, I was smacked with the economic realities of the situation.
People were lining up to ask to work for us. Unemployment is enormous and paying what to us seems an exploitative salary is twice what someone might earn otherwise. Not hiring someone would in essence be denying someone a job – a job we could afford to pay and a job we needed done. It would be irrational and unfriendly. So, I had to quickly become comfortable with the situation.
I’ve come to learn that there are little of the same connotations about house help here in Kenya. People who are just above poor tend to have some form of house help. Maybe it’s a cousin from the village who helps around the house in exchange for more meals and a more comfortable bed than she would otherwise have. Even the lowest paid staff in the small NGO we work at had house help. In more affluent cities even the house help have house help.
A good friend of ours in South Africa grew up with a mother who worked as a “domestic.” The job allowed her to put him through college and keep him out of trouble. He now works as an HR manager for a large company. He has all the trappings of an upper middle class existence. And he was baffled by my discomfort with house help.
But over the last two years I have become more comfortable with the arrangement. We’ve found people to help us who we’ve come to love. They do the work with pride and dignity and have been able to send their kids to school, buy land and build houses because of their jobs. I’ve come to find out that both women who’ve worked for us had previously been abandoned by their husbands, so the work was a lifeline for them.
Since the birth of my second child, I’m no longer working. For the time being. So, Mary* and I are home together all day – a situation I would have at one time thought unbearably uncomfortable. But it’s not.
We share lunch sometimes, play together with my 3 year old, and occasionally sit outside together and gossip about mutual acquaintances. She gives me insights about things like village life and gender dynamics that I would struggle to otherwise uncover. We pay her twice the going rate and for her daughter to go to college and make very few demands on the particulars of the house. Like most liberal-minded expats, I believe we are fair and generous and I consider her a friend. I have no way of knowing if the feeling is totally mutual. I hold all the power in the relationship. I won’t delude myself that she feels as part of the family as it feels to me.
I’m still not totally at ease with having someone working in the house. Maybe I never will be. But I no longer feel as I once did.
I work(ed) for an NGO that tries to assess and scale up anti-poverty interventions. Sometimes I wonder, as do most NGO workers, what kind of impact we are ultimately having. But one thing I’ll know when we pack our bags for our next phase of life, is that in the very least by being here we helped someone by giving them a job and treating them fairly. It’s not exactly a recipe for solving world poverty, but it is a recipe for putting my privileged discomfort with house help into proper perspective.
What are the connotations of hiring house help in your neck of the woods? Have you ever felt uncomfortable about hiring someone to help you out? How have you come to terms with it?
This is an originapost from Mama Mzungu. You can also read about her ex-pat adventures on her blog Mama Mzungu.
Photo credited to http://www.flickr.com/photos/peapodlabs/7109990989/. The image used in this post carries a Flickr Creative Commons attribution license.
Mama Mzungu (Kenya)
Originally from Chicago, Kim has dabbled in world travel through her 20s and is finally realizing her dream of living and working in Western Kenya with her husband and two small boys, Caleb and Emmet. She writes about tension of looking at what the family left in the US and feeling like they live a relatively simple life, and then looking at their neighbors and feeling embarrassed by their riches. She writes about clumsily navigating the inevitable cultural differences and learning every day that we share more than we don’t. Come visit her at Mama Mzungu.
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what a great little essay. it reminds me of our situation here in Abu D, too. I mean, yes, the newspapers are filled with stories about domestic workers who are horrifyingly mistreated, but most are not – and for many of these (mostly women) working for me or some other expat is the difference between her own kids going to school or not, having health care or not, being independent from an abusive husband, or not. That book Half the Sky makes a similar point when it discusses what in the west are called “sweatshops” – that while yes, the wages are wildly disparate compared to the Western idea of “living wage” but for the women who work in these factories, that pittance can make literally a world of difference. I’m simplifying here for lack of space, but I think your point is well-taken. In an odd way, the assumptions you had about “the help” are as much culturally biased as anything else – mine were too. So very interesting…and so complicated.
You are totally right. It’s easy to tsk tsk giving someone what appears to be a menial job from your comfortable place in the US, but you really have to look at the economic realities of the situation. Are they working for you willingly? What are their alternatives were you not to employ them? Are you giving them a fair wage by local standards? I also like to think about what I’d expect from a job: time off, good work-family balance, appreciation for a job well done, opportunities for growth or salary raising and provide that for the woman who helps us. But I’m always learning how to do this in a way that I feel is moral and still learning how to be comfortable with the whole thing…
what a great little essay. it reminds me of our situation here in Abu D, too. I mean, yes, the newspapers are filled with stories about domestic workers who are horrifyingly mistreated, but most are not – and for many of these (mostly women) working for me or some other expat is the difference between her own kids going to school or not, having health care or not, being independent from an abusive husband, or not. That book Half the Sky makes a similar point when it discusses what in the west are called “sweatshops” – that while yes, the wages are wildly disparate compared to the Western idea of “living wage” but for the women who work in these factories, that pittance can make literally a world of difference. I’m simplifying here for lack of space, but I think your point is well-taken. In an odd way, the assumptions you had about “the help” are as much culturally biased as anything else – mine were too. So very interesting…and so complicated.
You are totally right. It’s easy to tsk tsk giving someone what appears to be a menial job from your comfortable place in the US, but you really have to look at the economic realities of the situation. Are they working for you willingly? What are their alternatives were you not to employ them? Are you giving them a fair wage by local standards? I also like to think about what I’d expect from a job: time off, good work-family balance, appreciation for a job well done, opportunities for growth or salary raising and provide that for the woman who helps us. But I’m always learning how to do this in a way that I feel is moral and still learning how to be comfortable with the whole thing…
I’m glad to read your thoughts. Living in South Africa, a house help has been nothing new to me – in fact, our helps were always like second mothers to me when I was little. International friends have not been very kind when they discovered this, but I’ve always tried to explain to them exactly your conclusions.
Of course there are situations where helps are treated dismally by their employers, and I find that to be horrid and sad.
One day, South Africa’s economic situation might improve such that their is no longer a supply of individuals willing to work as domestic helps. One day, when education has improved such that all people have the opportunity to pursue more dignified jobs. But it is not yet the case.
You bring up a good point. i don’t want to gloss over teh fact that sometimes “the help” are terribly exploited and mistreated, often because of the economic realities in these countries. Not all domestic jobs are a wonderful opportunity for advancement. There should definitely be laws (which are enforced) to avoid exploitation of economically vulnerable people.
I’m glad to read your thoughts. Living in South Africa, a house help has been nothing new to me – in fact, our helps were always like second mothers to me when I was little. International friends have not been very kind when they discovered this, but I’ve always tried to explain to them exactly your conclusions.
Of course there are situations where helps are treated dismally by their employers, and I find that to be horrid and sad.
One day, South Africa’s economic situation might improve such that their is no longer a supply of individuals willing to work as domestic helps. One day, when education has improved such that all people have the opportunity to pursue more dignified jobs. But it is not yet the case.
You bring up a good point. i don’t want to gloss over teh fact that sometimes “the help” are terribly exploited and mistreated, often because of the economic realities in these countries. Not all domestic jobs are a wonderful opportunity for advancement. There should definitely be laws (which are enforced) to avoid exploitation of economically vulnerable people.
We emigrated to Cape Town before Apartheid was abolished. As a child I couldn’t understand what “Apartheid” was – because my experience was that every “white” family lived together with a “black” family! My baby brother learnt to speak Xhosa before he learnt English, because of playing with our “domestic’s” baby. She would take turns carrying them both on her back! We loved her and her family and she loved us …. kids KNOW if someone really loves them or not!
Obviously, as I got older and learnt about some of the discrimination and injustice inherent in the laws of the time, I was appalled! That said, the sad truth is that there are still people in this country who NEED to work as housekeepers or gardeners. I’m far from rich and a couple of years ago my husband was made redundant. We tightened our belts … but we did not fire our cleaning lady!!
We can only afford her one day a week – but she counts on that income to help support not only her own children (and now a grandchild too!) but also the children of her sister who died of AIDS. She has been part of our family for around 17 years already. She knows that we share the good times and the bad. She gets birthday and Christmas presents, and a paid holiday once a year as well as “little luxuries” whenever we can afford them. She often tells me that she’d love to work only for me (she currently works for different families the other 5 days of the week) and we both dream of the day when that might be possible (maybe if I win the LOTTO)!
That said, I don’t like being home when she’s there because I feel I’m in the way. If I do happen to be home, I work with her to get more done than she usually manages alone.
So interesting to look at this dynamic through both a child’s and adult’s eyes. My son is learning Swahili just as your brother learned Xhosa, which is one of the things that also makes hiring househelp more palatable to me. But I think it’s sad that hiring someone to work in one’s home is one of the few times we seem to manage cultural exchange and immersion in this world. Probably a subject for another post… ; )
We emigrated to Cape Town before Apartheid was abolished. As a child I couldn’t understand what “Apartheid” was – because my experience was that every “white” family lived together with a “black” family! My baby brother learnt to speak Xhosa before he learnt English, because of playing with our “domestic’s” baby. She would take turns carrying them both on her back! We loved her and her family and she loved us …. kids KNOW if someone really loves them or not!
Obviously, as I got older and learnt about some of the discrimination and injustice inherent in the laws of the time, I was appalled! That said, the sad truth is that there are still people in this country who NEED to work as housekeepers or gardeners. I’m far from rich and a couple of years ago my husband was made redundant. We tightened our belts … but we did not fire our cleaning lady!!
We can only afford her one day a week – but she counts on that income to help support not only her own children (and now a grandchild too!) but also the children of her sister who died of AIDS. She has been part of our family for around 17 years already. She knows that we share the good times and the bad. She gets birthday and Christmas presents, and a paid holiday once a year as well as “little luxuries” whenever we can afford them. She often tells me that she’d love to work only for me (she currently works for different families the other 5 days of the week) and we both dream of the day when that might be possible (maybe if I win the LOTTO)!
That said, I don’t like being home when she’s there because I feel I’m in the way. If I do happen to be home, I work with her to get more done than she usually manages alone.
So interesting to look at this dynamic through both a child’s and adult’s eyes. My son is learning Swahili just as your brother learned Xhosa, which is one of the things that also makes hiring househelp more palatable to me. But I think it’s sad that hiring someone to work in one’s home is one of the few times we seem to manage cultural exchange and immersion in this world. Probably a subject for another post… ; )
Mary* should write for World Moms Blog! 🙂
Thanks for this article, Mama Mzungu. As Deborah mentioned in the comments, the book, “Half the Sky”, really opened my eyes to the inequities for many women in the world and how important in some countries any type of work is so important for them to have a life outside of prostitution. 🙁
You are letting us see the world through your eyes, and I love reading your feelings on the subject!
Jen 🙂
I’ve been thinking more about this, and how living vicariously through our contributors is exercising my mind and helping me see situations in multiples of ways and in not just my own way of seeing things. It reminded me of what Jenny Flynn said about “Breathing into Relationships”. She had a similar encounter:
http://worldmomsblog.com/2012/04/10/social-good-breathing-into-relationships/
And Deborah spoke about the guilt of having someone provide a service for you in Abu Dhabi and looking more into the person’s life.
http://worldmomsblog.com/2012/05/03/uae-how-much-tutition-is-ten-toes/
I really get a bit choked up exploring the world with you all. Everything is not just one way or the other. It is difficult to view a situation through our own biases, but you have demonstrated how you can try to see things through the eyes of others. I think that is key to getting to understand more of our fellow humans around the globe better and strengthening our world relationships. I hope that this is what this blog succeeds in doing, and we continue to make more friends!
Jen 🙂
Totally agree! Marys and their ilk are need their voices represented on the blogosphere. It’s kind of a trap since you need the luxury of time, access to a computer and the notion that your ideas are of importance to anyone else to be a part of the blogging world. That leaves out a lot of important perspectives that would help us challenge and understand our own. I think that’s why I try so hard to understand and talk about the Kenyan perspective in my blog, but I can never quite now if I’m getting it right. I have to assume I’m missing a lot. I’d love to interview some of the women I know to get their views in to the discussion!
Mary* should write for World Moms Blog! 🙂
Thanks for this article, Mama Mzungu. As Deborah mentioned in the comments, the book, “Half the Sky”, really opened my eyes to the inequities for many women in the world and how important in some countries any type of work is so important for them to have a life outside of prostitution. 🙁
You are letting us see the world through your eyes, and I love reading your feelings on the subject!
Jen 🙂
I’ve been thinking more about this, and how living vicariously through our contributors is exercising my mind and helping me see situations in multiples of ways and in not just my own way of seeing things. It reminded me of what Jenny Flynn said about “Breathing into Relationships”. She had a similar encounter:
http://worldmomsblog.com/2012/04/10/social-good-breathing-into-relationships/
And Deborah spoke about the guilt of having someone provide a service for you in Abu Dhabi and looking more into the person’s life.
http://worldmomsblog.com/2012/05/03/uae-how-much-tutition-is-ten-toes/
I really get a bit choked up exploring the world with you all. Everything is not just one way or the other. It is difficult to view a situation through our own biases, but you have demonstrated how you can try to see things through the eyes of others. I think that is key to getting to understand more of our fellow humans around the globe better and strengthening our world relationships. I hope that this is what this blog succeeds in doing, and we continue to make more friends!
Jen 🙂
Totally agree! Marys and their ilk are need their voices represented on the blogosphere. It’s kind of a trap since you need the luxury of time, access to a computer and the notion that your ideas are of importance to anyone else to be a part of the blogging world. That leaves out a lot of important perspectives that would help us challenge and understand our own. I think that’s why I try so hard to understand and talk about the Kenyan perspective in my blog, but I can never quite now if I’m getting it right. I have to assume I’m missing a lot. I’d love to interview some of the women I know to get their views in to the discussion!
I completely agree with you, Mama Mzungu. I moved to Lagos, Nigeria three years ago and was very apprehensive to have someone working in our home full time. I am American, and i seemd very un-American to not do everything myself. The thought of someone cleaning and helping me look after mny two children was something I could barely think about. How was I going to function in ahouse with someone there all. the .time??? Being from the U.S., I , too,felt that there was something about hiring a dark skinned person to clean and cook for our family was not right. But, when I moved to Lagos, there were so many people who needed jobs like these and they were so happy to have the work. And, I learned that in many other parts of the world it is perfectly okay to have someone help you.:) In my case, my house help, Happiness, ( yes, that is her real name) was a blessing to myself and my family. I know I would not have adjusted to living in Lagos without her. She became a part of our family and my kids fell head over heels in love with her. I never felt threatened by her love for my kids and after a few weeks, it was like she had always been in my home cleaning and helping me with whatever needed to be done. ( We also had to hire a driver to drive us and even that became something I quickly got used to). We shared so many laughs and even some tears together. Happiness became a very dear friend of mine and she still is. When I read the book ” The Help” there is a line in there that says” good help is like true love, it only comes along once in a lifetime.” Someone who has never had good domestic help in their home would not understand that, but that line struck me so deeply. That is exactly what I had with Happiness…she was our “once in a lifetime”. She saved me from the fear I had of living in a far away place and she taught me it is okay to ask for help when I need it. I wrote about this very thing in a post on my blog which you can also read here http://wefoundhappiness.blogspot.com/2012/03/once-in-lifetime.html
We are moving back to the U.S.,and I know we will probably never see her again which makes me sad beyond words. But, I am so happy and grateful she came into our lives. She has been a wonderful friend, employee and teacher to our family of a country we knew nothing about. I am so happy you wrote this post. I can totally identify with it, and I hope that you can have your “once in a lifetime”, too.:)
She sounds like a really special person and that you were both lucky to know each other. You know, we kind of poo poo the position of househelp – that it’s menial and “no one” should have to do it. But I think the people who do it well are unsung heroes (kind of like most feminized professions). It’s not easy.
I hope you have a seamless transition back to the US!
I completely agree with you, Mama Mzungu. I moved to Lagos, Nigeria three years ago and was very apprehensive to have someone working in our home full time. I am American, and i seemd very un-American to not do everything myself. The thought of someone cleaning and helping me look after mny two children was something I could barely think about. How was I going to function in ahouse with someone there all. the .time??? Being from the U.S., I , too,felt that there was something about hiring a dark skinned person to clean and cook for our family was not right. But, when I moved to Lagos, there were so many people who needed jobs like these and they were so happy to have the work. And, I learned that in many other parts of the world it is perfectly okay to have someone help you.:) In my case, my house help, Happiness, ( yes, that is her real name) was a blessing to myself and my family. I know I would not have adjusted to living in Lagos without her. She became a part of our family and my kids fell head over heels in love with her. I never felt threatened by her love for my kids and after a few weeks, it was like she had always been in my home cleaning and helping me with whatever needed to be done. ( We also had to hire a driver to drive us and even that became something I quickly got used to). We shared so many laughs and even some tears together. Happiness became a very dear friend of mine and she still is. When I read the book ” The Help” there is a line in there that says” good help is like true love, it only comes along once in a lifetime.” Someone who has never had good domestic help in their home would not understand that, but that line struck me so deeply. That is exactly what I had with Happiness…she was our “once in a lifetime”. She saved me from the fear I had of living in a far away place and she taught me it is okay to ask for help when I need it. I wrote about this very thing in a post on my blog which you can also read here http://wefoundhappiness.blogspot.com/2012/03/once-in-lifetime.html
We are moving back to the U.S.,and I know we will probably never see her again which makes me sad beyond words. But, I am so happy and grateful she came into our lives. She has been a wonderful friend, employee and teacher to our family of a country we knew nothing about. I am so happy you wrote this post. I can totally identify with it, and I hope that you can have your “once in a lifetime”, too.:)
She sounds like a really special person and that you were both lucky to know each other. You know, we kind of poo poo the position of househelp – that it’s menial and “no one” should have to do it. But I think the people who do it well are unsung heroes (kind of like most feminized professions). It’s not easy.
I hope you have a seamless transition back to the US!
Great post, thanks for sharing. Although the financial situation here in Brazil is much better nowadays, the part on almost everyone having house help is basically the same as you described. People think I am crazy for not having a “domestic” (it is also called that here). It is a subject that brings me mixed feelings as my own mother was a domestic when she was young, and in a time when there were no laws to regulate the job and young girls would work basically in exchange for food and lodging (she started when she was 8). I also have all the issues you mentioned (including the people pleaser part!), so it took me years to finally get a cleaning lady, initially twice a month. Presently she comes once a week to do the cleaning and once to look after our daughter whileI give class. I also consider her a friend and we talk a lot about everything. Anyway, there is a lot to say bout this, perhaps I’ll do a future post with my perspective.
I would love to hear your perspectives on this – especially as someone who is the daughter of a domestic!
Great post, thanks for sharing. Although the financial situation here in Brazil is much better nowadays, the part on almost everyone having house help is basically the same as you described. People think I am crazy for not having a “domestic” (it is also called that here). It is a subject that brings me mixed feelings as my own mother was a domestic when she was young, and in a time when there were no laws to regulate the job and young girls would work basically in exchange for food and lodging (she started when she was 8). I also have all the issues you mentioned (including the people pleaser part!), so it took me years to finally get a cleaning lady, initially twice a month. Presently she comes once a week to do the cleaning and once to look after our daughter whileI give class. I also consider her a friend and we talk a lot about everything. Anyway, there is a lot to say bout this, perhaps I’ll do a future post with my perspective.
I would love to hear your perspectives on this – especially as someone who is the daughter of a domestic!
I know a friend of mine had the same dilemma when she moved to China. She felt so bad having someone to do all the basics for her, but then realised what a relief it was for the person involved to have a reasonable paycheck (by their standards). So good to really see the other side of these situations. 🙂
I know a friend of mine had the same dilemma when she moved to China. She felt so bad having someone to do all the basics for her, but then realised what a relief it was for the person involved to have a reasonable paycheck (by their standards). So good to really see the other side of these situations. 🙂
Ditto the above.
Ditto the above.
What a fascinating subject. While I’m hardly living in a developing country (*cringe at that expression*) where I live in the South of Spain it is common to have a woofer on your land, working as a gardener or even a cleaner or nanny in exchange for lodgings and sometimes food. The term ‘woofer’ has fewer negative connotations than ‘indentured labourer’ but that is basically what they are! There was also a grandparents’ strike last year to highlight how much work they do (often full time) to look after grandchildren while their daughters are working (there is a paltry 1 month statutory maternity leave here).
It seems to me that it is totally nonsensical for ANY mother to be expected to raise small children at the same time as dealing with an entire house, cooking, husband’s laundry etc – as well as potentially having a paid job herself. You just can’t tax yourself like that without becoming a raving, frying-pan wielding lunatic sooner or later. The trouble is that our wages here are the same as the ‘domestics’…which makes you wonder if it isn’t worth becoming one yourself.
What a fascinating subject. While I’m hardly living in a developing country (*cringe at that expression*) where I live in the South of Spain it is common to have a woofer on your land, working as a gardener or even a cleaner or nanny in exchange for lodgings and sometimes food. The term ‘woofer’ has fewer negative connotations than ‘indentured labourer’ but that is basically what they are! There was also a grandparents’ strike last year to highlight how much work they do (often full time) to look after grandchildren while their daughters are working (there is a paltry 1 month statutory maternity leave here).
It seems to me that it is totally nonsensical for ANY mother to be expected to raise small children at the same time as dealing with an entire house, cooking, husband’s laundry etc – as well as potentially having a paid job herself. You just can’t tax yourself like that without becoming a raving, frying-pan wielding lunatic sooner or later. The trouble is that our wages here are the same as the ‘domestics’…which makes you wonder if it isn’t worth becoming one yourself.