Seven days of work, still hungry: The harsh reality lives of South Africa’s domestic workers

THE CITY is still dark when her alarm sounds, a faint digital chime cutting through the quiet as her children sleep.

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Her day begins long before sunrise: a walk to the taxi rank, a crowded minibus ride, and the slow crawl through Johannesburg’ traffic. From her seat, she watches two worlds pass by: the one she leaves behind, where survival is a daily struggle, and the one she travels to, where high walls and manicured lawns signal comfort and security.

During this journey, her mind is a ledger. The school fees are due next week. The price of maize meal is up again. Her mother’s clinic appointment cannot be missed.

She mentally subtracts these costs from the R3,635 she earns each month, knowing that the true cost of keeping her family afloat is closer to R4,500.

The gap between have and need hangs in the air, a silent passenger on her daily commute. It is a weight she carries long before she picks up a broom or scrubs a floor.

When she arrives at the gate, she takes a breath and steps into that other world. Here, her purpose is clear: to bring order, to create a space of peace and cleanliness for another family. And in this work, she finds a profound sense of pride. “To me it's a calling” she might say, reflecting the thoughts of a worker from our latest survey.