When work called and I had to leave my six-month-old baby at home, I decided to apply for a maid. As a mother, I knew exactly what I wanted. I didn't want a maid who has children, because I thought the maid's heart would always be in Indonesia.

When I got a maid, the agent told me she is a divorcee with no issues. Her only job was to take care of the baby as I had a cleaner who would come and clean the house. She didn't have to cook because I enjoyed cooking for my family. I wanted her to be a part of our family, like a sister.

When she came, she had a photo of her two kids with her. She was honest enough to admit that she had lied to the agent because her friends had told her it was easier to get a job if you said that you had no kids.

She was a nightmare. Her main hobby was sleeping and she would rather let my daughter cry than to get up from her beauty sleep and attend to her. She would leave the dishes in the sink because she knew I would wash them if left there long enough.

She would eat my baby's food, drink my baby's formula milk. When she came, she weighed 46kg and in three months she was 60kg. I had no problem with her eating as much food as she wanted, but eating food meant for the baby was too much.

The last straw that broke the camel's back was when one evening, I came back early from work and found five finger print marks on my sweet, innocent child's face.

I realised then that no amount of persuasion or advice was going to change my maid from hell and I had to make the choice of working or taking care of my child. So off she went.