Migrant Labor Force in Malaysia

Sunday June 27, 2010
Migrant workers claim they’re being held to ransom by bosses
By BAVANI M and JAYAGANDI JAYARAJ
Newsdesk@thestar.com.my


KUALA LUMPUR: Many foreign workers hired to build the new RM800mil Istana Negara claim they have not been paid over the last three months despite working seven days a week.

Living in fear and frustration, the workers alleged they were exploited and cheated and held to ransom by their employers because many of them do not have work permits.

There are more than 1,000 migrant workers from Indonesia, Bangladesh, Nepal and Vietnam hired by more than 130 sub-contractors who are involved in the Jalan Duta palace project.

Most of them stay in kongsi or long wooden houses near the construction site.


Eating sparingly: Workers having a meal at a stall in the kongsi during lunch time. Some claim they only have one meal a day.
According to workers interviewed by The Star, some employers threatened to call the police when they persisted in asking for their wages.

Several workers even claimed they were harassed by the police and Rela officers and that their possessions like mobile phones, cigarettes and canned drinks were confiscated.

When contacted, Human Resources Minister Datuk Dr S. Subramaniam said he would ask the Labour Department to investigate the matter and take immediate action.

Indonesian Punawi, 32, who does plastering work, said he had not been paid for five months and barely had any money left for food.

“I only manage with one meal a day and that’s because the foodstall owner allows me to eat on credit. My work permit has expired and I don’t have RM3,000 to renew it,” he added.

Jatim, 37, said their employer would hold back their wages for three to four months and they would subsequently be paid a month’s salary.

Some employers, he claimed, would extend loans of RM50 to RM100 per week to the workers, leaving them in debt.

Jatim’s wife, Salimah, 32, who lives with him at the kongsi near the construction site with their five-month-old baby, said they often lived in fear of police raids.

“Each time there is a raid, I grab my baby and run. Some of us have to spend the night in the jungle to escape the authorities.”

Brickfields OCPD Asst Comm Wan Abdul Bari Wan Abdul Khalid said the last police raid took place several months ago to flush out illegals squatting in the jungles.

“Perhaps another agency was involved in the recent raids. If the allegations are true, the workers can come and see me and I will do what I can to help,” Wan Abdul Bari said.

Bukit Aman CID Director Comm Datuk Seri Mohd Bakri Zinin said police would take take stern action against the employers if the workers’ claims were found to be true.

“We will also investigate the workers’ claim that policemen roughed them up during raids,” he said.

He urged the workers to come out of hiding and lodge police reports in order for justice to be done.

Seeking Justice

Last Friday, I had the privilege of shadowing a co-worker and friend for the day. Daniel is a lawyer consultant to Tenaganita, who chooses to spend his career on being an advocate for those who have no voice in Malaysia’s political scheme. Leaving early (my early – 7am) from Kuala Lumpur, we arrived in Banting, Selangor about 9 am. Daniel took me on a tour of the courtroom and the cells where the accused await trial. As Daniel proceeded to tell me what the day would look like, I just stood amazed at the lack of justice I take for granted as a US citizen.
Eight Vietnamese men, aged 18-22, were being held on violation of immigration charges. They had been in jail for 4 months – a short time according to Daniel. Apparently, a raid had occurred on their place of work, Sprectr Alumicast, and these gentlemen were found to have expired work-permits. However, in Malaysia, it is the employer’s responsibility to apply and see a work-permit through, but it is the holder that gets punished. These men had little clue they their permit had not been renewed, as Spectra informed them the permits were ok. We run into 2 problems here:

1. The employer is holding the Visa, Passport, and work permit (illegal according to Malaysian law) and the employees have no way on ensuring the paperwork is in proper order.
2. The work-permits are to be secured by Spectra, and yet the employees are held responsible.

So, as Daniel reveals more of the story, he says the men have not been paid in 4-5 months. When Daniel went and spoke to the employer about this, he said of course he had paid the men’s wages – he just held enough back that they would not quit and run, about $4000 Ringget (which is about 4 months pay). There is a complete disregard and apathy for the plight of foreign workers and related law. Additionally, the Vietnamese labor advocate, who works under the embassy, was working with the employer to ‘just get them back to work’ and trying to get the workers to just admit their guilt in Malaysian courts so he could get them back to the factory.’ In short, the Vietnamese Embassy, who is theoretically supposed to protect its nationals, is in the employer’s pocket. While Daniel is trying to advocate their rights under Malaysian law, their home embassy is telling them to just admit guilt. To add salt to injury, when the judge finally appeared in the courtroom, the Vietnamese had hired a translator who couldn’t understand Daniel’s English or Malay. How on earth was he supposed to translate? The Vietnamese labor representative said he would translate, to Daniel’s objection.
As 8 Vietnamese men arrived in the court in purple jumpsuits and squeaky flip-flops, piling into the ‘box’ (as you see in the picture) the judge waved them away, back to the holding cell. As the Vietnamese labor representative looked confused, Daniel bore the smug look of accomplishment. The judge had decided to dismiss the immigration charges, and charge Spectra with trafficking in persons.
Wonderful, as now the employer would be held responsible (as he was holding them without papers and without pay), however, now the men have been slipped to the oddities of Malaysian ‘victim protection’. The men were taken back to the cell and treated as the criminals they were 10 minutes ago. While the rest of the day was spent attempting to get the men treated as victims and not criminals, the clock ticked 3,4, then 5. Investigators were met with; Labor Council of Malaysia was met with… But currently, according to Malaysian law, victims of trafficking have no right to legal counsel. Ultimately, though they were not charged with anything, their status and their access to a system of justice had slipped away – in the name of ‘protection’.
In my studies and research recently, I have been reading about the ‘western’ approach to the issue of refugees. The problem seems, that most policy is made with an assumption that victims of conflict, and all the UNHCR guidelines that define refugees, have access to justice as we see it in the west. Malaysia has shown me not all political systems are created equal, and not everyone has access to a system that will dispense justice. Friday was an overwhelming day that sealed my heart in wanting to be a voice for those without a voice, encourage the oppressed, and seek justice.

Things to remember about Malaysia...

1. If you break down, and its going to be awhile before you are able to move your car, place a large, visible tree branch on your car. Apparently, hazard lights are for quick, side of the road, errands - not emergencies.

2. If there is a bus, piling up traffic, that refuses to move - look for a chair placed outside on the ground. This means its not going to be moving for a while, go around.

3. If you have a beautiful vehicle you want to sell, place an empty oil can on the roof. Apparently this is Malaysian-talk for "Make an Offer".

I'm not kidding - was told this weekend by a VERY credible source. And tonight? I just saw a shiny blue BEAUTIFUL Volvo with an oil can attop, "For Sale" in sharpie. Can I make an offer?

Depravity or Opportunity?

This week was so packed, I don’t know where to start! I am finding beauty in places I didn’t think I would. Being in another culture allows me to look at things from a clean slate – to judge and value without a context of historical understanding. Its frustrating, and its beautiful.

I have a few things to share with you this week. With my feet now firmly under me, a LRT pass that feels like my very own, and a restaurant owner now recognizing my face, I feel as if I am starting to get into the swing of things. About every other day, I head down to a little restaurant a block from the office to grab a couple of Diet Cokes. They are the HARDEST thing to find here (believe it or not, more difficult than coffee!). There is a little shop that not only sells them, but sells them right out of the cooler.

Yes, crisp Diet Coke + Hot Malaysia Day = Jen’s Moment of Bliss

By now, the gentleman recognizes me as I enter his shop. “Miss! 2 Coka Light’s? Good to see you today. You looking fighting fit!” Don’t ask me what fighting fit means. I’m going to assume it is a compliment. I smile, hand him my RM 3 and wish him the best. Next week my goal is properly introduce myself and by the end of the summer know his story. Stories are truly the best in a new culture. Stories of marriages long ago, children grown and gone, professional aspirations, loves had and lost. . . To get one’s story, a true story, an authentic story, you must invest relationally, even if it’s only a Diet Coke every other day. By August, I will have this man’s story.

I started working on a funding proposal to the EU this week. Truly, I just jumped feet first into a pool I’m not sure is my swimming level. I have help – or rather the true author has help from me – but it is proving to stretch and challenge me professionally. Not only to understand what Tenaganita’s long term objectives are, in the area of the proposal, but to increasingly use my education to assist wherever Tenaganita has needs. I realized today that using an education you have paid for, both financially and emotionally, to be used in the way you desire to use it, is a great joy. Having worked in positions that you are ‘qualified for’ doesn’t necessarily mean they are the jobs that have a return to you, or further, bring you a sense of, well, accomplishment. Just because we can do something doesn’t mean that was what we were built to do. I am jumping into a pool of what I was meant to do, and as the splashes of water hit my face, I get a glimpse of fulfillment.

I attended a lecture on the Rohingya people this week. If you click on “Rohingya” it will direct you to a great BBC article – if you are so inclined. I think what grabbed my attention most at this lecture was the professor’s sense that the Rohingya are in ‘chronic distress’. That is to say, the Rohingya, for four decades, have not been able to access citizenship from a nation. These children have been born into statelessness. My concept of ‘belonging’ comes from the ability to seek protection from the state of the USA. Imagine being kicked off your land that you have farmed for years, and having no fall-back because the state your heritage comes from doesn’t claim you. It is chronic, and although the Rohingya are listed as ‘refugees’ according to the UN, ( Malaysia, Myanmmar, and Bangladesh, the places the Rohingya seek refuge, do not recognize the UNHCR) for the Rohingya, it doesn’t connote a sense of emergency. I typically associate refugee with a state of emergency. If you have been a refugee for 40 years, and you now have three generations in ‘refugee’ status – it begs to be seen as an emergency. I don’t know if this connects for you, but for me, things that are ‘emergent’ are taken care of, they go to the top of the list. The Rohingya are continually slipping from a position of importance in the international community. Further, because of this status, they are highly susceptible to become trafficked. With no papers to prove who you are, no missing person report able to be filed, you are easily trafficked into slave labor. And nobody but your family would know.

There is a depravity of man that we can change, that we must change, if we choose to not look the other way.

Nepali Migrant Worker Training

This weekend, I had the privilege of joining a training session for Nepali migrant workers. To be honest, this title was about all the information I had before I stepped foot into the meeting room. But what I was to learn the following two days brought legitimization to the stories I have been sharing with you. This time it wasn’t just someone telling me from CNN, or a story in Amnesty Int’l. This time, it was from a person’s lips. Why I need this sort of credibility before I feel, I don’t know. But let me share a bit of what happened this weekend. Maybe you can be better than me, and feel with second-hand information.

Migrant and foreign workers (not ‘trafficked’) have quite specific guidelines under Malaysian labor laws. The laws sound ok – if they’re enforced. Let’s start from the beginning.
First, to come to Malaysia, as a worker, you have to apply for a work permit. This is done through your home country and an ‘agent’ who sets you up with a company to work with. On your work permit, Company A is listed (who have to go to the Malaysian government on a yearly basis to explain why the job they are hiring the migrant for couldn’t be filled by a Malaysian). So, you sign a contract with the agent and your sending country that you will work for X number of years with Company A for X number of dollars a month. This sounds ok.

However, the workers then sign another contract upon entrance to Malaysia, with the agent, and many times it conflicts with the original document. It is not written in a language they understand, so they assume they are signing the same document. Often times the contract is for 100’s of RM less a month than the original document signed in the home country. Then, upon entrance to the country, your “Company A” sells your contract to “Company B”. This is illegal, if it’s not changed on the work permit, and are grounds for deportation – but a worker doesn’t know this. In addition to lack of knowledge, the employer will often hold the passport and documents of the worker ‘for safe keeping’, which according to Malaysian law is illegal. So, even if you didn’t want your contract to be sold to Company B, you don’t really have a choice. Malaysia has pretty strict undocumented peoples/workers policy. You don’t want to come here if you don’t have the proper documents, much less, you don’t want to be caught if you don’t have your passport/documents.

Imagine a place where OSHA, basic overtime rights, getting paid what you agreed to work for, and holding your own identity are all at risk. Add to that a language barrier, and a possible education barrier. Your family is sending letters to you that they need more money at home, and you must stay and work.

I haven’t given you a complete picture, but a slice. This is what the organization I am interning works for. It was beautiful when the migrants ‘clicked’. They had rights under the already existing Malaysian law! They GET 10 days off – by law. They CAN ask for their passport back to travel for religious holidays. They DO have advocates that will help them get salary if their employer refuses to pay them.

A group of 15 workers arrived confused, but they left with tools. A simple educational workshop – nothing advocated but the Malaysian law – and hearts left a little lighter.

One Week Of Bliss in K.L.

Tonight marks a one week anniversary of my arrival to K.L. It has been a week of mere functional work, while I attempt to get my body accustomed to a 16 hour time difference. It has been a lot of 9 PM sleepy and sore eyes and much 5:35 AM wake-up calls. It is Sunday, and I finally feel on-target with energy. Don’t get me wrong – I could always use a great cup of “American” coffee…. Not this instant coffee stuff! I am headed to the “Sunday Night Market” in my area of the city. I have promised pictures, so I PROMISE to bring the camera with me!

On Wednesday, I was a victim of a pick-pocket attempt. As I headed to the office on the LRT (light rail transit) I had my computer, which I carry to and from work every day, my camera, phone, wallet, the works – but someone told me long ago to never have anything of importance in your pocket (unless you’re in Missoula, Montana). I got off at my stop, Masjid Jamek (Jamek Mosque), went to swipe my transit card to get out of the system, when a lovely gentleman (who shall remain race-less for my Malaysian friends) decided, at that point to follow me in the escalator. It wouldn’t have flagged me if he was part of the herd getting off the train to head out of the station, but he was waiting, reading a newspaper, looked up, saw me, AND THEN decided to get onto the escalator. My radar was tripped. I moved my messenger-type bag from the back to the front and proceeded up the escalator. It was not 10 seconds later I felt a flitter by my left side. Being super paranoid of lizards and large biting spiders, I looked. Lo and behold, there was a hand – FROZEN- right where my pocket was. As I continued to look over my shoulder, the man quickly looked to his left, BUT KEPT HIS HAND THERE. What he was staring at, I don’t know, because his eyes did not follow anything as we were going up the escalator. This is what followed:

Me: looking at the man. “Excuse me. Please stop.”

Man: Frozen, still, hand mid air, not making eye contact.

Me: “EXCUSE ME ( in the strongest – ‘are you kidding me type voice’). You NEED to STOP IT.

Man: A bit shocked, looked at me, smiled, tilted his head a bit “Ok, sorry.” And scurried past me on the escalator.

When I arrived to work and explained the hilarity of the frozen thief, one of my co-workers was surprised. Apparently, people here do not confront their perpetrators! It seems that, evidently, I shocked the thief more than he, I. According to Daniel, my coworker, “You rightly ruined HIS day!”

The best part of the story?

I saw him in the 7/11 on the corner of my office building block the next morning! He looked at me, I looked at him. And we both kind of smiled at each other, seemingly to say – “Huh – as the fates would have it.”

Modern Day Slavery

Completed my second day of work at Tenaganita. I am moved to log a bit of my experience. Please keep in mind this is from an 'American' view - which will be most of you. ;)

At 88* today and a 73% humidity, the actual degree is 101*! Ok, so, now imagine that you are a Muslim woman with 2 layers of head covering working outside in food stall, frying food! I cannot imagine it. I can't imagine it with just my hair - much less a head covering. I am meeting lovely people who are choosing to spend their time and life in the area of justice. Please take the time to watch this SHORT video on modern-day slavery. There will be a test! :)

Until next time-
Jen