Mariaam Bhatti: Tales of a Domestic Worker
As the taxi took us across the city centre to the Labour Court, all I thought about was what it would be like to come face-to-face with the woman who had exploited me seven months earlier. Part of me wondered if all of it was necessary. I asked myself why she had to be dragged to the courts when she could simply have opened her wallet and paid me for the work I did. I asked myself, why it was so hard for some people to do the right thing?
I was still lost in my thoughts when the taxi stopped – we had arrived at our destination. I still wondered what the whole process would be like. I had all the support of the team at the Migrant Rights Centre Ireland (MRCI) and two of their advocates had accompanied me. I was safe, I knew that. I had faith in their work, expertise and interests of protecting vulnerable workers in the society. But I still had fear. Although I knew I was no longer in her claws, I still felt uncomfortable – and probably some underlying anger – at the prospect of meeting her again.
Inside, the commissioner asked us to confirm our attendance by signing in. But my former employer had an issue with this, even when the commissioner repeatedly asked her to do so. She eventually put pen to paper, but continued to argue that she did not understand why she was supposed to sign anything in the space that read ‘employer’, claiming that she was not an employer to anybody and had never been one.
After that, one of my MRCI advocates was asked a few questions regarding my claim, and it was all over within 10 minutes. I tried to understand what had happened, but the commissioner was already packing the documents on the desk and getting ready to leave. I later understood we were asked to bring evidence supporting my claim, which was going to be a big challenge due to the nature of domestic work, invisible and usually performed behind closed doors in isolation. Like many other domestic workers in Ireland and around the globe, I had no contract of employment, no payslip, nor any other documents to prove I was working for her.
Then came the surprise. Despite not being given permission to talk in the courtroom, my employer suddenly pointed at me and screamed: “You, Mariaam! I want all my clothes and jewellery you stole before you left! I know it all, my daughter told me you fooled her into giving you my bedroom keys, and you went to the locksmith and made a spare key and broke into my bedroom!”
For those few seconds I thought I was dreaming. Her bedroom was the only room in the house to which I had no access, although through her youngest daughter’s room I was allowed to access its en-suite bathroom. The commissioner ordered silence before saying something that I didn’t understand again. He picked his documents, adjourned the meeting and left.
We all got up getting ready to leave. As I was picking my bag from the floor, I saw a shoe almost stepping on my hand and the bag I was trying to pick up. Before I had a chance to look up I heard her voice yelling “Get out of my way!” as she stormed past me like a train speeding past a station platform…
To be continued...
Mariaam Bhatti is a member of the Domestic Workers Action Group and Forced Labour Action Group of the Migrant Rights Centre Ireland.
