A couple weeks ago, several of us went to visit the DSWD’s Women’s Center. Upon arrival, after a short jeepney ride and a not so short walk, we were surprised to find the center almost vacant. On the outside we observed this huge, nice residence that looked to serve as a wonderful home and rehabilitation center for battered women, but when we entered, we were greeted by the entire household: one worker and two women, whom each had two children. Having already met so many women (in the bars, on the streets, etc) who desperately need food, shelter and love, I was expecting and hoping to walk in on dozens of women and dozens of children, along with many workers, serving to provide for and rehabilitate them. Why were there not more women here? I placed this frustration aside, for the moment, so that I could engage with one of the women staying there, Lalang. She had greeted me with a smile and wave from the kitchen, where she was seated, eating and feeding her two children. Something drew me to her and I left the group to go talk with her.

Through her broken English, and my very broken Tagalog, she humbly shared with me a part of her life’s story, and I share it with you today because, sadly, Lalang’s story is not unique. Lalang’s story is representative of the plight of the majority of women in this country, and it breaks my heart daily.

Lalang experienced physical abuse by her former husband. From my short experience in the Philippines, Ive come to understand this is very common here. Many men are uneducated, without work and drink away the pain of their inability to provide for their families. This often escalades into wife battering and other forms of abuse. Though I don’t know the details of Lalang’s experience, I can be sure that it was nothing short of pain and suffering. Lalang is in her 20’s and a mother of two precious boys- Wayne- 8 months old and Warcky, 2 yrs.  When Lalang and her husband separated, she and her two kids were forced to move out of their home in Mindanao. With nowhere to go, she and her boys found refuge at this Women’s Center. However, this center is only a short terms center, where they are provided with food, shelter and perhaps some sort of counseling and reintegration/skills training, though I saw no signs of either of the latter happening. Lalang went on to share with me that her time at the center was almost up. She had been offered a job, from a friend, as a caregiver for a “rich, old Japanese man” (her exact words) whereby she would make P2000/month ($43USD), pocket change for this man… Though I can’t be for sure, this story sounded all too familiar. Every year, hundreds of thousands of Filipinas get offered jobs as ‘caregivers’ or ‘waitresses’, only to show up and find out they have been tricked into some form of sexual slavery. Lalang could indeed go work as a housemaid for this man, at least that’s what I had to keep hoping for. Her story kept getting worse. The following week, she was going to be taking her kids to R.C.C., a children’s home for kids whose parents are not able to take care of them. Lalang shared with me that if she is not able to visit her kids within 6 months, her parental rights will be taken from her and the children will be placed up for adoption. Lalang shared all this with me with a straight face, emotionless, that is, until I asked the very hard question, “Lalang, how do you feel about leaving your children?” Nursing her 8 month old, with her arm around her two year old, she began to weep and said, “I love my babies, I don’t want to leave them, but I have no choice. I have to feed them somehow”.  My eyes welled with tears; the tears I’ve been fighting off since I got here. I fought them but all I could do was place my arm around her, join her in this moment and tell her, “I’m sorry Lalang, I’m so sorry. It shouldn’t be this way”.

I realized that day that I have been carrying with me this false reality that women in such desperate situations grow numb and don’t feel what I might feel if I were in their shoes. Perhaps it’s been a protection mechanism to keep from feeling the pain. Coming from a culture of power and privilege, Ive had a choice my whole life to decide what I will feel, see and experience. To have to leave my kids and go work for a few dollars, just to feed them, was unfathomable for me and too painful to even imagine. But that day I imagined it, for a moment I felt a portion of it, and it was perhaps the most painful thing Ive ever felt. To add to the moment, my mind was flooded with the faces of the many women Ive met in the bars that have left their children to work and send money back to them. These women don’t get to mother the children they birth. Injustice, on so many levels, snatches this right from them. They are impregnated then left to die along with their children.

The chances of Lalang being able to afford to go see her kids within those 6 months are slim. It will cost her P500, one-forth of her monthly salary, to go visit them. The details are sketchy and it’s hard to predict what will happen to Lalang and her two boys. I have plans to go back and visit her, find out more of her story and of course my ultimate hope for every woman I meet is that together we can figure out another way. The sad reality is, today, right now, there may be no other way for Lalang. But as we continue to work here in this land, educate, give voice to the injustices and let God work though us, I find hope in the faithfulness of God to act as we give our lives for a redeemed humanity, as Jesus taught us to.