Fish Vendor at 82: The Selfless Love of a Grandmother

When should a woman’s responsibility begin? Until when she should provide? Is there a limitation? Is there anything we call a “finished obligation?” An 82-year-old fish vendor from Laguna, Philippines had set an incomparable standard in her most noble role as a grandmother.

Who could not be astounded at an old lady walking around the town of Calauan, Laguna while carrying about 20 kilograms of fish? Taking the road as if she was just strolling or solely chatting with people she used to meet in the town. Notwithstanding the weight of the fresh fish she fetched before the sun rises, Nemie Calatin could even smile and laugh in the middle of the street, finding possible buyers of a kilo or two of fish.

Selflessness

In over 70 years of working as a fish vendor, not in an instance that she pities herself. The young Nemie did not have an opportunity to finish her studies. The old tale of poverty worsened by the illnesses of her late parents completely collapsed her chance to dream. As early as ten years old, her little shoulder had endured the heavy basket and laundry tub filled with various sea foods, including fishes and seashells. Nemie pressed the button of sacrifice, disregarded the joy of childhood to help her parents get through from an uneven situation.

“Sinama ako ‘nung kapit-bahay namin. Sabi sa akin, naghihirap lang din kayo, ihahango kita ng isda sa Sta. Cruz at ikaw ang magtinda. Sige sasama ako. Naghiram ako ng dalawang batya, basket, nag-andar ako ano, ‘nung madaling araw lumakad kami alas kwatro.” (“Our neighbor asked me to join her. She told me that she could help me to fetch fish and I could sell it for extra income. So, I borrowed two laundry tubs and a basket to join our neighbor in selling fish in Sta. Cruz, Laguna and we left at four in the morning.”)

In selling, she met a man, whom she eventually married. They were blessed with eight children. However, one of them died from a congenital heart disease. Her grief continued when her husband passed unexpectedly. Nemie had traversed a stiff journey but still dominated with profound hope to continuously raise her seven children.

Love

A visit to her small house in Sta. Cruz. Laguna had divulged a few things about her. The jolly Lola Nemie is still in adversity—still lacking a good fortune, still on the wrestling to provide. This time, not for her parents, not for her children, but she labors for her grandchildren.

Three of Nemie’s grandchildren became orphans several years back, and another one was abandoned by her mother. Since then, she treated them as if her own children. Their food, education and everything needed for their living was taken from her hard-earned income.

Nemie’s self-run charity extends to her other grandchildren who have also been deprived from necessities.

“Itong isang anak ko daming anak na napasok o minsan hindi nakakapasok walang baon. Kaya gusto kong makapagtinda para matulungan ko.” (“One of my children has lots of kids who need to go school. Sometimes, they could not attend their classes because they don’t have any penny to survive the day. I want to sell fishes so I could help them.”)

For eight decades of living, working beyond the retirement age, an ideal scenario for Lola Nemie has remained in question. Her rest on a rocking chair, staring at the window, eating and sleeping whenever she likes to are still on the list of unfulfilled dreams.

Aging

“Wala kong malay nakita ako ng tricycle driver. Iniuwi ako sa amin. Talagang ang pakiramdam ko nga ay umaadyo na ako sa langit. Sabi ng Doktor ‘pag ho hanggang alas nuwebe at hindi pa nagkakamalay yan wag na kayong umasang mumulat pa.” (“A tricycle driver found me unconsciousness. He brought me home. That time, I felt like I’m already reaching the heavens. The Doctor said that I would be declared dead if I did not wake up until nine.”)

To take care of herself and others as well is admirable. But how long could she stay strong? Nemie knows that she is slowly getting weaker. Yet, there is a portion of herself who’s trying to keep firm. At the back of her mind reigns the thought that there are people who still depend on her.

Aning Arcayos, one of her buyers, often witnesses how she suffers dizziness.

“Minsan dumadaing talaga yan, minsan siya daw ay parang nanghihina. Sabi nga niya, “Ay hindi ako makakapahinga dahil ako’y may sinusustento. Meron akong mga apo.”” (“Sometimes, she would really feel weak. She once said, “I can’t rest because I have grandchildren to support.””)

Dreams

Her life had been into different tremendous events that she had neglected to dream for herself. Nemie aspires better for her grandchildren. However, she knows her limitations. Her willingness was never deficient, it is just her age that says it’s enough. Her capacity diminishes, but never her love.

“Pangarap ko sa mga apo ko’y makatapos manlang miski grade 12. Ako’y hanggang doon na lang. Hirap na akong magdala ng maraming isda.” (“My dream is that my grandchildren could finish their studies even until at 12th grade. I could not work any longer. I could not carry heavy tubs and baskets full of fishes.”)

Disclaimer: AlapaapMedia-Voices of Humans interviewed Lola Nemi in September 2019. After the posting of our documentary, “Otsenta” (“Eighty”) on February 29, 2020, the family of Lola Nemie informed the documentary team that Lola Nemie is no longer selling fish.