This Labour Day, we turn the spotlight on the unpaid, often unseen work that keeps homes – and societies – running. Through the story of Nurismi Ismaili, a mother, entrepreneur and household manager, we explore the true meaning of labour in all its unrecognised forms.
Recognising the Labour of Love
EVERY year on Labour Day, we honour the people who build, heal, teach, clean, and keep our systems running.
We see the uniforms, the titles, and the long hours. We speak of workers’ rights, fair wages, and safe conditions.
But what about the work we don’t see?
The quiet, unpaid labour that holds up families – and by extension, society.
The early mornings, the packed lunches, the folded laundry, the care work done with no salary, no leave, and often, no recognition.
This invisible labour takes many forms. One of them is found in the everyday life of a woman named Nurismi Ismaili.
Meet Ismi: Mother, entrepreneur, household manager
Nurismi, or Ismi as she’s known, is a mother of two boys – a full-time housewife, entrepreneur, and the one-woman powerhouse behind her home and business. She does everything by herself. No helper. No shortcuts. No off days.
At 5am, a kitchen light flickers on in her house. By the time the rest of the household stirs, breakfast is already on the table, the school uniforms are ironed, and the children’s water bottles have been filled with cold, thirst-quenching drinks.
No one asked for these things – but they are always there.
This is not a paid job. There is no human resources department. No annual leave. But it is work – the kind of labour that fuels every Malaysian home.
And while many of us talk about the visible workforce – the frontliners, the delivery riders, the 9-to-5ers – Ismi’s day runs on a different rhythm entirely.
Juggling routines and expectations
Her work begins before sunrise and continues long after everyone has gone to bed. She prepares meals, manages the household, keeps up with her children’s schoolwork, and runs her own business – and she does it all alone.
“I do everything with my own hands,” she said, not with complaint, but with quiet pride.
Balancing both sides of her life – her business and her home – requires precise time management and letting go of perfection.
“It’s quite challenging if I don’t manage my time properly. That’s why time management is very important to me. I don’t expect perfection – I just set my priorities.
“After my kids go off to school in the morning, I’ll do the house chores, but only until 9:30 am. After that, my focus shifts to my business – buying stock, managing production – until 2:00 pm when I fetch my kids from school,” she told Sarawak Tribune.
Even then, the day isn’t over.
When asked which daily task people often take for granted, Ismi didn’t miss a beat.
“It’s cooking. From preparing the ingredients to cleaning up afterwards – it might seem simple, but it takes a lot of time and energy,” she said.
Once, she pressured herself to cook every single day. These days, she sees the value in sharing responsibility at home.
“I love it when everyone at home takes part. These days, my husband helps me in the kitchen. I hope my sons will join in too when they’re older,” she said.
Other tasks still fall to her. She prepares dinner, folds laundry, and keeps the house running – even on days when she’s needed at the store to cover for staff.
“It’s okay to have dinner outside sometimes. And I only fold laundry two or three times a week, but I always sort it out properly – each of us has our own laundry basket, so at least they can find their clean shirts. Small things like this really help all of us at home,” she added.
Coping with the weight of it all
There are no public holidays for her. Peak seasons for her business often fall during festive holidays, and when her children are unwell, she shifts into full-time carer mode without hesitation.
“Rather than working from 8 to 5, it’s more like being on duty 24/7,” she said, half laughing.
Just recently, her 10-year-old son looked at her and asked, “Ummi, why are you always tired?”
She smiled. But what she didn’t say was that she hadn’t properly sat down since 5:00 am.
She had packed lunches, replied to customer orders, washed dishes, and remembered – at the last minute – to top up the water bottles with ice.
Her labour is constant. Quiet. Expected.
And sometimes, it becomes overwhelming.
“Of course, I feel it too. I’m just a normal human being. When I do feel overwhelmed, I give myself a little break. I spend time with the people I love – that helps me recharge,” she noted.
What drives her to keep going? Her children – and the example she wants to set for them.
“I hope my kids learn that everything starts at home. It’s the foundation of our values, especially self-belief. We have ground rules at home so they learn discipline, self-care, and cleanliness.
“Even if it’s a small business, I want them to know you can create your own job – don’t just wait for someone else to give you one.
“I hope they learn to manage money, to communicate with people, and to have confidence in themselves,” she explained.
Redefining the meaning of work
Ismi never complains – not to her husband, not to her customers, not to herself. But there are days when the weight of the invisible work is felt deeply.
When the laundry basket overflows, the house is a mess, one child is sick, and she still has orders to fulfil and food to pack.
Still, she shows up. Every day. Without a break. Without applause.
And she is not alone.
All across the country, women – and some men – shoulder this unpaid burden with resilience and quiet pride.
In some households, older children help too. Teenage daughters bath younger siblings. Sons make dinner when their parents are working overtime.
These acts may not be called “labour” – but they are just as real.
It’s not about demanding salaries for every chore. It’s about recognising that work comes in many forms – and some of the most important ones are unseen.
If chief executive officers are admired for managing companies, surely a homemaker who juggles two children, a growing business, a household budget, school schedules, and daily meals deserves equal recognition.
Ismi often wonders what version of “work” her sons will grow up believing in.
Will they respect only jobs with salaries and office hours? Or will they understand that care, patience, and emotional labour are also worthy of dignity?
She hopes it’s the latter. And she tries to model that every day – by example.
Recognition doesn’t need to be grand.
It could be a husband who learns to fold the laundry. A son who clears the table without being asked. A school that acknowledges the double burden many mothers carry. A society that stops saying “just a housewife” with a smile.
On this Labour Day, Ismi hopes more people will acknowledge the importance of the unseen roles in our lives.
“Everyone has their role in this world. Being a ‘household manager’ is important too. If we learn to appreciate everyone’s role – at home or at work – we’ll build a better society,” she said.
Let us recognise not only the jobs with payslips but the labour that takes place in kitchens, living rooms, and quiet dawn hours – the kind done out of love, duty, and necessity.
Because every thriving nation depends not only on its workforce but on the invisible hands that care, nurture, and sustain it – day after day, without pause.
And women like Ismi? They may not clock in, but they never clock out.
