Dear Nanay: How This Story of A Little Girl and Her OFW Mother Came To Be, by Zarah Gagatiga

Zarah Gagatiga is a teacher-librarian, storyteller, blogger and award-winning author
from the Philippines. Her first book, Tales from the 7,000 Isles: Filipino Folk Stories
(Libraries Unlimited, USA 2011), written in collaboration with international storyteller and
award-winning author Dianne de Las Casas, won the 2015 Storytelling Resource Award
in 2015.
Zarah’s recent picture book Dear Nanay (2014) is about the long-distance relationship
between a little girl and her mother who is an OFW – an Overseas Filipino Worker: a
theme that is pertinent to the lives of many Filipino children. In this article, Zarah talks
about how certain events both in her childhood and later as an adult came together to
compel her to write the story.
Dear Nanay:
How This Story of a Little Girl and her OFW Mother Came to Be,
by Zarah Gagatiga
I was born in Manila in 1974. Two years after the declaration of Martial Law. I grew up
an only child until I was twelve years old. Our household was small but my aunts and
uncles on both sides of the family lived next door so cousins flitted in and out of the
family compound. Nanay* Leony, my maternal grandmother, ran a sari-sari store* that
sold everything from safety pins to San Miguel Pale Pilsen. There were also Tagalog
comics for rent. I read them after school as part of my recreatory reading list.
We had a garden abloom with flowers all year round because Nanay Leony knew what
to plant during the dry and the rainy seasons. Her vegetable garden produced root
crops, tubers, herbs and spices, and greens that often ended up in a dish on our dinner
table. Trees grew in the backyard: coconut, mango, banana, palm, santol,* tamarind,
camias,* star apple, atis,* to mention a few.
Everyone knew everybody in the neighbourhood. I played with my cousins and the
neighbourhood kids. I walked with them to school. We heard mass on Sundays. On lazy
summer days, my cousins and I would take naps in the afternoon. We would wake up to
late noon snacks of ginataan,* turon,*porridge, kamote fries* or biko* , especially
cooked by our favourite aunts. There were stories and songs to share until it was time to
watch Voltes V and Mazinger Z. We were heartbroken when these TV shows were
cancelled. We were too young to understand what it meant.
When the rains came, we bathed. When big storms brought in the flood, we waited until
the water receded. The nearby creek would swell and this gave us a reason to launch
our homemade paper boats. Water leaked in easily so we would either swim or catch
fish next. We got lucky on some days to bring home gourami and tilapia. No one dared
bring home tadpoles since none of us wished to bear the brunt of our grandmother’s
wrath. Fishes were alright. Frogs, not so.
I could say I had a happy childhood. My world was safe and secure from the violence
and horrors of Martial Law. My parents and the adults in my family tried their best to
keep life simple yet abundant with laughter, songs, stories and playtime. They
surrounded us with the basics, enough space to move about and the freedom to
express oneself, though, controlled at times. But unexpected events in life, big or small,
can throw anyone off balance.
The Philippine economy collapsed at the onset of the 80s and this prompted my
grandfather to work in Saudi Arabia after an early retirement from the Philippine Navy. A
year later, my father, who was at the time an esteemed public school teacher, followed
suit. My grandfather and my father became Overseas Filipino Workers (OFW).
I wasn’t spared from the effects and repercussions of Martial Law at all. At nine years
old, I accepted my mother’s explanation of the situation. Papa will bring home dollars.
Savings for a better future. Never mind the long years apart. Sacrifice today for a better
tomorrow. Nanay Leony who was pragmatic and practical, a survivor of World War II,
took it all in her stride. But I got a sense of their longing and loneliness. There were
nights when my mother cried herself to sleep and Nanay Leony kept singing sad
Bicolano songs. It was a confusing time. The Sanrio toys, dolls and cool gadgets from
Saudi Arabia did little to justify the empty chairs at the dinner table, especially on
birthdays and during Christmas. After two years working abroad, my father decided to
come back home for good. This filled me with joy, but it took me a while to reconnect
with my father.
It is this experience of growing up with an OFW parent that is the backdrop of Dear
Nanay (Lampara House, 2013). But it was my trip to Singapore in 2002 that was the
lynchpin for the poem that became a narrative in verse and eventually, a picture book
for children.
My attendance at the 2nd Storytelling Congress in Singapore that year allowed me to

meet and interact with Filipinos working away from home and their families. There were
professionals working in the IT industry and the Library and Information Science sector.
I met teachers and professors, domestic helpers and labourers. I was even mistaken for
a household help by the immigration staff when my host from the National Book
Development Board of Singapore bade me a tearful farewell at the airport. The
immigration staff asked if she was my boss and I, her domestic helper. I said no, she is
my friend. The immigration staff gave me a warm knowing smile. I told her the truth, of
course, but I knew she had a different context to my answer.
In the airplane, the economy class was filled with Filipino men and women all noisy and
eager to get home. They all carried bags and boxes of pasalubongs.* Many spoke in
Tagalog but there were a few chattering in Bisaya and Ilocano. While many of the
passengers slept and some quietly talked to each other, I wrote a poem in my notebook
about a child missing her OFW mother. A week in Singapore had made me homesick. I
missed my husband and two kids terribly and wished they could have joined me on the
trip. It was that moment I recalled my own childhood growing up during the last stretch
of the Martial Law years. I remembered my father and grandfather, my mother and
Nanay Leony and what they had all sacrificed. I was in awe of the courage of the
Filipino overseas worker, but saddened by the reality that one of the many reasons why
they leave home is due to the economic and cultural problems caused by twenty years
of dictatorship.
Dear Nanay is illustrated by the amazing Liza Flores. Using paper cutouts as her
medium, she added visual layers to the story by depicting spreads that show gaps and
distance, longing and loneliness, through empty rooms, calendars and time pieces. I did
not reveal nor mention Nanay’s profession in the narrative verse, but I particularly liked
Liza’s take on her as a chef. Not all OFWs are domestic helpers. Nonetheless, our book
shows the reality children face in light of a parent leaving home to work abroad.
I still grapple with the question of what is more important for a parent to do: to provide
for his or her children’s needs by working abroad or to stay with the family and endure
the economic and political hardships, as well as the social injustices of living in a
developing country like the Philippines. I console myself with the thought that, despite
this reality, there are still opportunities for Filipino writers and illustrators to tell stories
and that there are people in the Philippine book industry brave enough to create and
publish stories for children depicting the plight of the Overseas Filipino Worker.
http://mirrorswindowsdoors.org/wp/zarah-gagatiga/

Dear Nanay: How This Story of A Little Girl and Her OFW Mother Came To Be, by Zarah Gagatiga

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

Dear Nanay: How This Story of A Little Girl and Her OFW Mother Came To Be, by Zarah Gagatiga

Uploaded by

Document Information

Original Title

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Dear Nanay: How This Story of A Little Girl and Her OFW Mother Came To Be, by Zarah Gagatiga

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

Zarah Gagatiga is a teacher-librarian, storyteller, blogger and award-winning author

My attendance at the 2nd Storytelling Congress in Singapore that year allowed me to

You might also like