Migrant labourers are getting a raw deal. But, apparently, it’s still better than home
EVERY day, the airport in Kathmandu is crowded with a huge flow of Nepalis queuing to fly to different destinations abroad.

Among them, people destined to Middle East and Gulf States can easily be pointed out — similar hats and dress, the manifestation of common body gestures, brandishing passports and air tickets in hand, faces reflecting a grim smile, a bit of excitement mixed up with anxiety.Even the styles of their bag packs are recognisable. These symbols separate migrants destined to Middle East and south-east Asia from migrants destined to West. Another sizeable portion of the of crowd consists of relatives of the migrants’ sobbing while seeing them off, putting tika on their foreheads and adorning them with garlands. The number of Nepali labourers migrating to the Middle East and south-east Asia grew dramatically after 1990 and is still on the rise.

The data from the Ministry of Transport and Labour in 1992/93 reveals there were only 1,926 Nepali migrants working in the Gulf States. This increased to 104,739 in 2001/2002, a good 54 times higher than before. However, although there are these vague and lump-sum figures, more coherent and reliable data on labour migration simply dœsn’t exist. There is a high discrepancy in the numbers. State and non-state actors have their own sets of data, targeted at different aspects and making a variety of conclusions. It seems the state delineates the issue by shrinking the actual numbers whereas other non-state actors exaggerate the numbers. This is not only the case of Nepal; ‘statistics politics’ persists everywhere. Indonesia, Philippines, India and other Asian states hesitate in making the numbers of their absentee population public. Similarly, labour receiving countries also refrain from publishing actual figures of immigrants. Despite both the countries being highly dependent on foreign workers, studies have shown that Singapore and Malaysia do not provide the data on the inflow of foreign workers. If we open the national dailies, every day the pages are filled with labour recruiting agencies’ advertisements for Gulf and East Asian countries. Most of the ads read: “free visa, free visa, free visa.” Hundreds of labour recruiting agencies work as mediators for foreign companies in recruiting labour from Nepal. Over the past two decades, international labour mobility has become an increasingly important facet of the Nepali economy and its socio-cultural landscape. However, hardly any ethnographic accounts exist on Nepali labour’s mobility in East Asian and Persian Gulf regions. Ones that I have found are mostly written from the macro level perspective focusing on blurred statistics and the remittance economy.

Migrant labourers leaving for Gulf States are being studied by many intellectuals under the field of study called ‘diaspora’, considering them as diasporic Nepalis. Commentators have been eulogising this mobility as a hallmark of globalisation. All kinds of migration explained and understood under diaspora studies is not explanatory enough to understand the current tendency of labour migration. In reality, these migrants rarely enjoy the privileges that the diaspora communities do. Diaspora communities have a huge advantage in maintaining their cultural identity and social life in their new homes. But migrants laborers’ cultural, national, religious identity and socio-cultural life are erased and their work spaces turn them into “modern day slaves.” Therefore they have distinct features that distinguish them from other emigrants from Nepal and need to be studied from within a different categorical framework. These migrants are the cheap contract labourers in the international market who work ‘over-time’ and are in high demand in today’s booming global market. Alienated from their socio-cultural life, their sole purpose is to ‘earn’ by toiling for a maximum number of hours, a far cry from the normal eighthour- a-day schedule. The intended goal here being to save as much money as possible in a certain period of time to improve their own livelihoods and that of their families back home. They constantly feel strain and stress over their families left behind, as they are not permitted to bring them along. Stringent agreements made by the employment companies with the labourers stipulate that they cannot return home even in the event of severe illness or death the family. When they do return home, they do so without collecting a penny’s worth of wages. While pursuing personal research on the topic, I heard from many returnees that many workers toiled from early morning to late evening; working on their weekly off-day to earn over-time money.

There are even stories of suicide where the labourer is cheated by middle men back at home, stopping them from making money and sending it back home. Migrants are classified under three categories: skilled, semiskilled and unskilled. This classification also broadly embodies the major social polarisation of the contemporary world. Skilled represents the professionals with high education. Semi-skilled represents those with basic qualifications: masons, scaffolders, carpenters, cooks, drivers, foreman, plant operators, electricians, plumbers, and so forth. And unskilled represents labourers with little skills, who work in factories, or as cleaners, gardeners and the like. The demand for Nepali workers comes, unsurprisingly, for largely unskilled labour. Semi-skilled and unskilled workers migrate either for two or three years and their return is compulsory after the contract expires. Those who risk staying on illegally further worsen their own situation. Upon their return to Nepal, they are just as they were before they left: without any opportunity for good earnings. And again, they begin their search for a job in foreign lands, expecting better results this time around. Despite being poorly paid, ill treated, and working under dangerous conditions, Nepalis are still queuing up in hordes to flee abroad. Ultimately, these destinations provide them with an income simply unattainable in their places of origin. The sight at the airport is certainly painful. Since the 1990’s, when Nepali mobility expanded beyond India, a revolution of mobility has taken place. But gauging from the mood at the airport, watching the families see-off their loved ones with a heavy heart tells you that this is certainly not an ideal situation. KC teaches sociology and anthropology at Orbit International College