Dawn and her younger sister Kaye were born and raised in Hong Kong, but they had never attended school in the 30 years that they have lived there — they had no birth certificates or identity cards.

Here is their story.

Dawn’s mother, Feli, came to Hong Kong in 1988 as a domestic helper. She had previously worked in Macau where she met and fell in love with a young musician who later became the girls’ father. Shortly after arriving in Hong Kong, Feli got pregnant with Dawn and decided to terminate her contract with her employer. She gave birth to Dawn in 1990 and to Kaye in 1991. Her then boyfriend left them when Kaye was two.

Fearing poverty in the Philippines, she decided to overstay her visa and remain in Hong Kong, moving in with some Filipino friends who were legal residents in the city.

Migrant domestic workers are employed in many Hong Kong households. These women, mainly from the Philippines and Indonesia, are an indispensable source of support for working parents and the elderly. However, when their pregnancies are discovered, they are usually fired or forced to resign by their employers. These migrant domestic workers become homeless two weeks after they are fired, and the children that they give birth to are typically undocumented and stateless. However, under Hong Kong law, a migrant domestic worker cannot be dismissed due to pregnancy. They are entitled to public healthcare and 10 weeks of maternity leave in their contracts.

With Covid-19, many domestic workers have been fired from their jobs, but are stranded in the city due to travel restrictions, even though Hong Kong law dictates that those who have had their contracts terminated must leave the city within 14 days. Those without a valid working visa lose access to health care and other public services.

“I struggled when they were using diapers. I didn’t know where to buy the diapers so I just used cloths,” Feli recounted, thinking back to the times when her girls were still babies.

In return for having a place to stay in, she cooked for her friends and took care of their children. Occasionally, she would make Filipino sausages for her friends at church and receive a small compensation.

“At that time, it didn’t feel hard [to survive] because you do a little bit of something … you get 50 dollars, 50 dollars (6.45 USD) … It’s okay for me. I don’t ask [for] much money,” she noted.

Since she feared deportation for having overstayed her visa, Feli decided to keep the girls at home instead of sending them to school. At home, Feli taught the girls how to read and do simple math. They also watched educational television programs produced by the Education Bureau. Dawn was an avid reader. She would go to the library and borrow books using her mom’s friend’s card as she could not acquire one herself without the necessary documentation. Every day, she would go to the park, read books, watch TV and play video games. “It was a very simple life,” she said fondly.

Not having an education meant that their options were limited. Inspired by her youth leader at church, Kaye initially wanted to become an architect, but her dreams were dashed pretty quickly due to the family’s situation. “Realizing the situation that I was in, I took that dream away because it was impossible to reach it,” she lamented.

The tradegy of an undocumented girl’s suicide in 2015 lingered in Dawn’s mind. Having no identity papers and thus unable to attend school or travel, the girl reportedly ended her life due to unhappiness and dissatisfaction of what her life could have been.

“I know how she felt — to be different and to have a lot of limitations… To me it was very sad news because if I knew her I would’ve most likely reached out to her and tell her that you’re not alone,” said Dawn.

In an article, Dawn came across an interview with a spokesperson at PathFinders, a non-governmental organization that helps pregnant migrant domestic workers. Realizing that there is help available for those in her situation, Dawn read through information on their website religiously.

When she told her mother about the organization that could potentially help them out of their crippling situation, Feli was skeptical: they had previously gone to a law firm but were told that their case was too difficult. However, in 2019, the anti-extradition bill protests, which saw increasingly violent demonstrations and harsh police crackdowns, drove Feli to finally make the call. “I didn’t want them to get in trouble, especially when they are walking and going home. You know, sometimes the police is harsh to us here… so we decided to step out and come clean,” said Feli, upset that she no longer felt safe in the city she called her second home.

“The moment we stepped into PathFinders office, we knew we were in good hands. They welcomed us, they didn’t judge us. There was just so much compassion,” shared Dawn.

“I remember they were very, very, very scared and there were a lot of emotions,” shared their case manager, Hina Bibi Ali, about the family's first visit to PathFinders. “There was a lot of shame, a lot of fear. There were many times that they were crying, speechless [and] just didn’t really know how to put their thoughts into words.”

Ali also noted that while she was curious about their story, her priority was to make them feel safe as it was their first time seeking help from social services. Aside from the counseling and emotional support that Ali provided, PathFinders also arranged for the family to get health checkups and assigned them pro bono lawyers to follow up with their case. In the process of acquiring their legal documentation, Dawn, Kaye and Feli also took a DNA test to prove their mother-daughter relationship.

After much discussion, their lawyers decided that they would pay an unannounced visit to the Immigration Department together on Oct. 16, 2019, lest the officials are prepared with harsher questions and possible detainment. On the day of the visit, the family prayed together to mentally prepare themselves and have peace in their hearts.

“Lord, I don’t know what’s gonna happen today but I believe that You’re here to protect us.”

The department officials were really surprised when they stated their case. It wasn’t unheard of to have undocumented persons surrender, but living off the record for 30 years was no small feat. “How did you survive? What did you learn? Do you know how to speak?” The sisters were asked a barrage of questions.

“They asked about the TV shows that we watched, the playground that we used to play in… it was all to prove that we actually lived here,” Kaye recalled. They were warned of possible detainment and even prosecution for overstaying, but fortunately they were released on bail for 100 HKD (13 USD) each. On that day, they were also given their recognizance papers which allowed them to apply for birth certificates. The process was extremely lengthy and took almost a year to complete, with the sisters only receiving their papers in October this year.

Dawn couldn’t help but break into tears several times throughout the day: “It was such a huge step… It was a terrifying feeling but you know it’s gonna be good.”

“The moment that they got their birth certificates was so priceless… It was so, so empowering for them” Ali remarked. “Throughout this year, I have really seen the change in the daughters, from being shy and timid and scared to now sharing their own stories.”

Now that they have their birth certificates, they are waiting for the Philippine consulate to issue them plane tickets and a temporary travel document that will allow them to fly to the island country, as they are not yet eligible for passports. The family will fly out before Christmas to spend the holidays with family.

“I’m excited to start a new life, but at the same time it’s bittersweet… because from being a city girl to a village girl, it’s such a huge change so I’m praying that I’ll be fine,” said Dawn.

After settling down in the Philippines, Kaye plans on going to university to study digital art, with hopes of becoming a wedding photographer one day. Feli will do some farming and plant organic vegetables to keep Kaye in school. On the other hand, Dawn wants to fly to her fiance in the U.S. as soon as possible after getting her Filipino passport.

“My number one dream is to have my own family. Growing up I had this very difficult childhood, and I would want to have my own kid and never make them feel that way. I want to give them the best,” expressed Dawn.

Though the girls didn’t have documentation until recently, they still consider themselves as Hong Kongers and will miss the city dearly. In the future, they hope to come back as visitors, provided that their visa status does not get complicated.

Even though their journey has been rocky, Feli is hopeful towards their new chapter in life, saying that the first thing she will do when she gets to the Philippines is to praise God: “What we’ve been through here in Hong Kong, we [have] learned a lot. Maybe in the next chapter, I will be a lot better.”