How My Dream for a Filipino Restaurant Started After Everything I Survived, A Migrant Entrepreneur in The Netherlands' Perspective

When I look back at how Kubjertos, a Filipino restaurant, began, it never feels like “just” a business story. It’s woven with migration, motherhood, healing from abuse, rebuilding my confidence, and trying to dream again after five years of simply surviving.

In 2018 and early 2019, I finally reached a point where I could breathe again. After years of domestic violence, after becoming a full-time mother who had no space for herself, I slowly started imagining a future that belonged to me as well. I thought: maybe it’s finally time to dream again.

One of those dreams was Kubjertos, a place where I could bring a piece of home to the Netherlands.

My First Taste of “Mission vs. Practice” in 2019

Back then, Gemeente Groningen had a program for people with limited resources who still wanted to start a business. It looked hopeful, and I truly believed I fit the mission. I created a business plan on my own and reached the evaluation stage with the external assessor they partner with.

But the experience humbled me quickly.

Even though I already had a restaurant internship, I still felt looked down on for wanting to show my commitment. I had “no financial background in the Netherlands,” they said. I was told to get more experience. So I did another internship that same summer, hoping it would make a difference.

Guess what, it didn’t. Instead, I am told this time, I am too ambitious.

It became my first experience of how programs and institutions can present themselves as supportive. Yet, the evaluation culture still feels like it belongs to another world, one that newcomers aren’t fully invited into.

Then the Pandemic Came

When COVID hit, everything changed. Restaurants were no longer the most practical path. I needed a backup plan. So, I chose to start a degree in Psychology, partly to rebuild myself intellectually, partly to secure my future, and partly because mental health and healing had become deeply personal.

I studied while raising my children, grieving the loss of my father on the last day of 2022, trying to build a life abroad, and slowly feeling my strength return.

And Then, in October 2023… My dream finally happened as a migrant entrepreneur in the Netherlands.

Halfway through my psychology degree, something unexpected happened: my dream came back to life. My fiancé, now my strongest support, pushed me to believe that it was time. With his encouragement and support, we opened a Filipino restaurant in a smaller city.

We thought:

“This place needs diversity. Maybe we can be part of that change.”

And in many ways, we were. But it also became clear that the market wasn’t ready. The concept was too new for a small town. Most of our peak-day customers were driving all the way from Groningen, the multicultural city where our food truly belonged. We decided to cease operations and prepare for the relocation.

Closure & Reflection

Still, that first year was priceless. We learned. We grew. We perfected the food. And for me personally, it proved something important:

I was capable of building something meaningful, despite everything I had survived. One of the most beautiful parts of our journey was the opportunity we received through a provincial programme in Groningen aimed at stimulating the economy on the province's western side. Because of that initiative, we were awarded a subsidy to hire people, and we made it our mission to give opportunities to those who are often overlooked, especially individuals with a migrant background or limited work experience.

Over that year, something remarkable happened. We didn’t just build a team; we built a working environment where people felt seen, valued, and encouraged to grow. Several of our staff members became motivated to pursue formal education because they finally believed they had something meaningful to offer. Some even developed the confidence to dream of having their own small space one day.

Saying goodbye was difficult when we decided to close and prepare for relocation, but their transformation remains one of our most outstanding achievements. Many of them can now apply for jobs with real experience and renewed confidence, and some are simply waiting for the day they can rejoin us when we reopen in Groningen.

Preparing for Relocation

After nearly 13 months, we chose to close the restaurant to prepare for relocation on October 31, 2024, and this was also the same period when I was navigating an extremely stressful family legal matter. We needed to protect ourselves first.

It has now been a year since closing, and we are nearing the final stages of the custody process. With that chapter almost resolved, we feel ready to bring the restaurant back, this time in Groningen, with a new name inspired by my father, Silvino, who passed away nearly three years ago.

He was the reason I kept going. This next chapter is for him.

The Search for Relocation Capital

Because relocation requires significant capital, we approached a third party to help us secure funding. Our first experience with Qredits in 2024 was already challenging, so we didn’t expect much.

When the first proposal from Qredits came in again, and then they retracted it before the face-to-face meeting, we were not surprised. It felt familiar.

We stay hopeful, but not dependent.

Our journey is built on resilience, determination, faith, community, cultural pride, and a deeper purpose connected to our foundation in the Philippines.

I genuinely believe that when your intentions are anchored in service in representing your culture, feeding people, and giving back, the right opportunities eventually find their way to you.

Where I Am Today

For now, I’m focusing on my psychosocial counselling work, my migrant advocacy, my healing, my children's welfare, and the ventures connected to our social impact mission.

Kubjertos, soon to be reborn under my father’s name, Silvino, will come back when the time is right.

A Word to Anyone Facing Setbacks

If you’re reading this and you’ve been rejected, discouraged, or forced to pause your dreams, please hear this:

"Stepping away is not the same as giving up". Sometimes pausing is preparation. Sometimes the detour is part of the healing, and sometimes you need to rebuild yourself before rebuilding your dream.

What matters is that you don’t let the world convince you that you’re incapable.

Hold on. Rest when you must, and when life allows it again, return to your dream with a stronger version of yourself.

I did, and I will once again, so I am confident you can too. If you are a migrant entrepreneur who has experienced rejection, discouragement, or a gap between an institution’s mission and its actual practice, I welcome you to share your story with me, privately or in the comments, whatever feels safe for you.

I am currently studying how structural challenges in credit access affect small businesses led by migrants. For many of us, entrepreneurship is not only a career choice; it is a way to integrate, to contribute to the economy, to bring diversity to our communities, and to build a stable future for our families. When systems meant to support us fall short, they leave both practical and emotional impacts that deserve to be understood.

Your experience matters.

Your voice adds to a fuller picture of what migrant entrepreneurs face in the Netherlands.

And together, we can shed light on the areas where improvement is possible, so that future entrepreneurs begin their journey with more clarity, fairness, and genuine inclusion.

If you feel comfortable, I would appreciate hearing your story.

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