A tribute to the workers

A story that needs to be told, but hardly ever is.  It's like the elephant in the room that nobody acknowledges or pretends not to see.  Or maybe the dust that gets surreptitiously swept under the rugs of countless homes.  It's as if wealth and luxurious lifestyles somehow shield the "haves" from having to deal with the seedier side of life.  Servants are in a state of perpetual servitude and labourers labour incessantly and impecuniously.

They're called TCN's - third country nationals and they are routinely treated like third tier, third class "citizens".  TCN lends itself to an anonymity of personhood, an invisibility when it comes to living standards and legal representation. They do the lowliest of chores: sweeping streets, digging trenches, cleaning up after us all at restaurants, hotels and in our homes.   They are everywhere, but nowhere. 

In all cases, passports are removed for "safekeeping", and wages - meagre as they are at about QR700 per month for an average labourer, are docked monthly until the return airfare has been paid off.  Accommodation is a blight on the landscape - row upon row of prefab dormitories filled to capacity with flea-ridden bunk beds, thin blankets, and abysmal washing facilities, within a fenced compound.  On days when Qataris celebrate national holidays they are securely locked behind gates so as not to spoil the scenery. On Fridays, they are forbidden to enter malls and given that, in most cases, these hardworking individuals work 10 to 12 hours per day for 6 days a week, one has to wonder when these poor folk should do their errands, pay their bills, and buy their meagre groceries?

House servants are possibly in the worst position - women from Nepal, Philippines, India, and Pakistan who cope with language barriers, illiteracy, and take on virtual slave labour conditions just to send money home to family.   They cook, clean, walk dogs, care for 4 to 7 children, launder, etc from 6 am to 9pm regularly.  They may be at the mercy of angry mistresses with impossible demands and standards and masters who make 'other' demands. 

Construction workers also have it badly - there are no safety mechanisms on buildings and injury and death are daily occurrences.  Or how about the 48 storey construction site with washrooms strategically placed on the ground floor - imagine walking down 48 stories and back up again - at least once a day wouldn't you say?  And what about during Ramadan? - everyone has to follow the rule of nothing to drink between sunrise and sunset - can anyone imagine what it must be like to labour in 50 degree temperatures with no access to water?? - the death rate of TCN's are highest from July to September - probably from disorientation and dehydration and then fall off buildings or walk into the paths of speeding traffic.  

All come into the country as single persons and live under the threat of dismissal for whatever trivial reason. And God help those who foster relationships with the other sex - jail, stoning,and deportation  probably in that order.  

 

They get very little leisure time and being a male dominated population there is very little contact with the softer side of life.  As a group they seem to band together and help each other out.  They while away the lonely hours playing cricket....or lining up outside Western Union counters sending precious gifts back home. 

And if we take the time to acknowledge the elephant and lift the rug, we see that underneath all that hardship lies a heart of gold and an attitude of grace under fire.  The smiles reach from ear to ear and light up eyes that signal genuine happiness.  They seem to grow taller with eye contact and polite conversation, they thrive on a kind word, and will bend over backwards to help if you ask.  

 
I hope that their families back home truly appreciate the sacrifice these men and women are making every day.