There’s simmering anger when returnees contribute to the conversation in the pre-decision and departure sessions.
Immediately after we have waxed eloquent on their rights – holding your own passports, the right to communicate with their families back home and be paid monthly – a waif of a girl, no more than 22, stands up. She has already completed three years in Oman and Kuwait. She passively confronts us.
“When I landed my passport was taken away, I never saw it till I was ready to leave. I was paid at the end of my contract. And I could not speak to my family for the first five months.”
The young woman had dealt with it in the best way she could. She told the family she had a right to keep per passport. “They retorted, ‘she is a poor African, but smart.” As if the two were mutually exclusive.
On how to contend with the many legal violations they may face, we offer hesitantly, “Call the embassy.”
They look unconvinced. They (and we) know embassies are impotent in most cases. That when they raise a very valid concern, it will get far worse before it may become even slightly better.
It’s also disconcerting that all of them expect to be treated on racially divisive lines. As a local trainer points out, ‘they think because we are black we are dirty; we are too poor to have a choice.’
This is not to say they are deterred from migration.
“There are many success stories. People’s status in society improves when they return from abroad and build homes or businesses. The (successful) women even look younger, as life in Uganda can be hard,” says Grace Mukwaya, who heads the Platform for Labour Action, a local NGO fighting for workers’ rights.
That is the ideal every person in town halls and training centres aspires to.
The discussion is not all about what the workers might face. It’s often about what they find difficult to understand about life in a foreign land.
“Your employer’s privacy must be respected,” we say.
The words fall on uncomprehending ears. Privacy as a concept is not familiar.
A long explanation ensues in the local dialect. You see, there’s no word for ‘privacy’ in the local languages. It’s an effort to set the context and explain what it means. This is an environment where the community is everything, and the line between the private and public spheres is non-existent.
As we struggle to explain privacy, we slip in that they are more likely than not going to be living and working in isolation for the contract period. The enforced isolation, restriction on mobility, and control over their lives will all be justified under the pretext of protection, privacy, and culture.
