What can we do to help the vulnerable?
I was disheartened lately while reading about the experiences of domestic workers in other parts of the world. The ones I found most disturbing were those of women who were falsely accused for being responsible for the death of a person they looked after. They could be affected by it more than the person’s own family – so imagine how shocking it would be not only to be refused time to mourn, but come to terms with the reality that they may be punished for that person’s death, even by death itself.
How lonely such workers must feel to have no one to talk to about their ordeal. Trying to understand it as someone living thousands of miles away, I don’t think any migrant in their right mind – domestic worker or otherwise – would ever leave their homeland, and often their own children, and choose to commit such acts if they would face such slaughter.
It’s even sadder to think of the isolation and the mental turmoil they and their families must go through. It’s common for the accused in such countries to not be given any right to legal representation or to have their cases properly investigated. I have heard of pleas families have made to their embassies begging for their daughters’ release with no success.
It makes me wonder what kind of world we live in that some people would look down on others because of the work they do, the class or caste they come from, their religion, their sexuality, their ability or disability or the colour of their skin. Who gets to decide who is a better human being than the other or how they should be treated, yet they rely on them for the normality of their everyday lives?
Being in countries that practice the death penalty can be difficult enough for any expatriate coming from a wealthy background, but what more for someone doing work that is seen as done by those from an inferior class? Those considered not having a brain of their own to think for them – what chance do they stand?
My reading triggered a thought about a woman I met once during one of our monthly meetings in the Domestic Workers Action Group, who had just left a family she had worked for in the Middle East, who had travelled to Ireland on a short visit. Although she didn’t say much about her situation, I could tell from her tone when she said “I just need help to go back home.” I looked at her and thought to myself, she must have had enough.
Being in Ireland was probably her only chance to be free. All she wanted was to return home to the people who loved her, respected her and valued her being around them.
I began to think about who or what could help if domestic workers or any other vulnerable people are going through difficult times. For example, victims of domestic violence have someone to call and talk to or even be sheltered when things get bed. So how can we expect domestic workers to ‘just leave’ when they have nowhere to go?
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.
