Recently, the Department of Labor (of the Republic of the Philippines) conducted an inspection at the mall where I work in. At first, my cohort and I thought somebody must have snitched on our company. After all, it was the first time in all our years of working for capitalists that the department took interest in what the REAL situation is in the workplace. I have never been interviewed by the labor department's emissaries nor my cohort. As we stared at each shop and each employee of that shop getting interviewed on the nuances of their job, memories came flooding in my mind.
My family belongs to the middle class so luckily, we never experienced child labor. We used to have a small store near our rented apartment and we would take turns as vendors - usually after class or during semestral breaks. In fact, my sister and I even slept in the mezzanine to guard that store. We were never given salaries (like regular employees) but we enjoyed drinking cold soda or munching on chips while reading all the magazines or newspapers sold in the store stands. We could talk to friends or bystanders whenever we feel bored. We would watch the big trucks rumbling by at night or pity the cars and buses stuck in traffic. The person who'd tend the store will not be with the family during meal times, but my mum or my dad will reserve the most special/biggest/yummiest portion of the viand for her/him. We enjoyed writing prices of goods bought from the distributor and displaying them in the store shelves. We could do our homework from the store and not be bothered by household chores like washing clothes or doing the dishes. I don't think that's child labor at all.
But in the Philippines, you can observe that rampantly. These are children who are too poor to be fed by their own parents yet too proud to beg. In the city, they sell jasmine garlands or newspapers, clean jeepneys in the terminals, act as barkers or even conductors for jeepneys on provincial trips. In the country side, these children help during harvest time (especially of rice, sugar cane, corn, etc.) and they'd be given the scraps for salary.
They would do odd jobs like selling water, sell vegetables for other vendors, wash clothes or even tend farm animals so that the would have enough money to spend bare essentials (which goes for th family rice, dry fish for viand) for the next day. If there is any left, they would go to their allowance in school.Sadly, these children have never enjoyed playing. They regard play as something of a vanity that they can rarely indulge. They have to work hard for their families to eat and live another day. They're often late or if not, absent in school because either they're too tired to study or that they need to work long hours to afford things that their families need for the next day. They have no choice but to sacrifice their self for their loved ones.
Eventually, these children mature sooner than their bodies. They rarely develop into well-rounded adults because they have experienced hardships and criticism at an age when they should have been building their confidence. They'll become cynical and insecure. Most of them rarely finish school. They get by with whatever work they could find, paid poorly because of their ignorance, abused by the society and pass on the cycle to their offspring. Then, the cycle of poverty and child labor goes on.
He went to our store at last. He showed us his ID and asked a lot of questions. He queried about our pay and the benefits that we receive from our employer. Although hesitant to answer his questions, we cannot lie because he asked for our pay slips and made a lot of notes in his report.
He noted that I was paid very poorly...underpaid, he said, but overqualified. He sadly shook his head as he continued scribbling more notes. He never asked me why I accepted the job in this shop. He wanted the assurance that I am okay working with the company who pays me little but expects too much. He said he would take care of that situation and that he will deal with our managers accordingly next week.
Ever since I graduated from college and passed the licensure examinations, I have never experienced paychecks that go way beyond the basic pay mandated by the law. I remember my first pay check for the month amounted to Php 4,200.00. But that time, I was working 48 hours a week and the basic pay per day was Php 250.00. Isn't that a perfect example of flagrant abuse of greenhorns?! However, I accepted the job because it was a race against time and a matter of pride - I was the one who got employed first in our batch in a prestigous cosmetics company. The clientele was elite: local politicians, ambassadors, actors and actresses and all the who's who of Makati. I compounded dermatological formulas for them (as prescribed by the resident dermatologist), got free cosmetics (that were really way too expensive to come out from my pockets), was given free treatments to clear up my skin, and of course, got to know everything from the grapevine before it could ever get out in the news. That was the life...a single Makati working girl!
After a month or so, I was not given the well deserved raise that was promised to me at the interview. The manager told me that it was verbal...not in black and white so it was quite preposterous of me to expect that from them. She told me that there are people who, just for the sake of working (for years)in their elitist company, were paid below my rate. I was stunned. She had the gall to point that out to me. I told her that I musn't be underpaid because I am a professional. She laughed it off. I quit the next day.I consoled myself after that incident but my pride was badly injured. That was the first time I had been rejected. But that did not stop me from being disillusioned by the promise of a nice fat paycheck. I went on from job to job (being a medical sales agent to college lecturer to hospital pharmacist)until I got into teaching in a private school for girls.
That was the first time I ever saw 5-digits in my paycheck that does not include the centavos. I thought, "WOW! This will definitelty make my momma proud!" I was able to live the lifestyle I was used to when I was still in Makati but this time, everything came out of my OWN pockets. It was very empowering. My family greatly benefited from it because I could pay for some utilities (like the house phone and the househelp's salary). I could even go on weekend trips with my younger siblings to shop, to play or just dine out. I was on a budget but including my luxuries.
Work, however, was very draining. I look forward to meeting my students, young as they are. I teach them new things about science that they can really use outside the classroom. But I dreaded coming to the faculty room with loads of paperwork, witnessing how co-teachers stab each other in the back, being sarcastically talked to by my superiors, walking home late at night through the dark streets to get a ride home, having less time with Beau Boi, etc. I regretted as each dreadful month ended as much as I happily expected my paycheck.Much to my family's dismay, I quit the post after 2 school years. As I slowly walked away from that school, dragging accumulated teaching aids along the way, I realized something. I value my psychological well-being, my family time and of course, Beau Boi too much than my big fat paycheck. After that, I worked for an English school for Koreans in the afternoons and taught at the nursing college in the morning. The rest, is history.
He came back the following week as promised. Our bosses in Makati have been too disturbed by the fact that the DOLE is now looking into the rights of their employees that he sent our company's accountant and of course, the administrative manager. He was cordially informing them about my rights as an employee and the other benefits that I should be receiving. They promised they would change the payroll starting next month. The inspector smiled satisfactorily and told me that I would be getting a better pay check for my family. He, the manager, the auditor and I signed the papers and after a piping hot cappucino and a crisp croissant..he was off.
I believe the inspector went back to DOLE happy that he was able to put out a laborer's misery by having the managers acknowledge their deficiency in giving the correct pay. He probably wouldn't give us, mall employees, much thought after that day. He was assured by the affixed signatures of the managers that they will protect the rights of their employees in terms of corporate remuneration.Up to this time, I have yet to see on my payslip, the increase that was written on that piece of paper he brought to DOLE. I bet other employees in this mall feel the same. My manager had a mole inside the labor department which she paid off with bribe (a state-of-the-art air conditioning unit). The inspector will never come back again.
P.S. Still, while I have yet to feel the economic crunch, I'll stay here. I love being a mall rat!
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