In the fight
against human trafficking and the rise of modern slavery, a top priority for
governments and human rights organisations has been to “break the business model” of migration brokers thought
to be the main channel for such exploitation. Those same governments might do
well to understand what those brokers do, and why they exist in the first
place.
If you want to see
brokers in action, then domestic work and construction work are as good a place
to start as any. In these sectors people can be exploited thanks to a lack of
written contracts, the hidden nature of the work inside private homes (in the
case of domestic workers), non-compliance with labour laws.
Migrant workers
from poorer countries and communities are heavily represented in both
occupations. Often, the only way they can negotiate complex regulations is with
the help of migration brokers who have the skills, knowledge and connections
needed to move into these different worlds. Brokers are often former migrants
or well connected and trusted members of the migrant’s own community.
The other side of the story
Brokers have been
demonised as exploiters of migrant labour due to the level of control they can
exert over migrants with no other means of support. However, there is another
side to this which sheds light on why migrants keep using brokers. Recent
research that I have been involved with in Ghana and Bangladesh shows
a complex reality where brokers are indeed complicit in perpetuating
exploitation and conditions of forced labour, but also help migrants to bargain
for better working conditions.
Chapainawabganj in
Bangladesh, a high migration district near the border with India, sees large
numbers of men from farming families migrate to Qatar for construction work. In
the Bangladeshi popular discourse, brokers are called Adam Bepari or “traders in human beings” typifying
the view which assumes all the power lies with the broker. Similar ways of
describing recruiters are seen in other countries.
The government has
attempted to eliminate brokers but with little success. Bangladeshi men
continue to use informal brokers for several reasons. Legal migration through
the Kafala system, the sponsored visa system in
the Gulf, is expensive and difficult because skills may not match available
jobs. Migrants also say that they feel more protected by the “moral contract”
with the broker, witnessed by family and elders. Many also want “free visas”
that don’t tie them to a single employer, so they might have the opportunity to
move on to better jobs through social networks in Qatar. This was only possible
if brokers guided them down an irregular migration route.
Even when brokers
broke promises on wages and contracts, migrants regarded the migration as successful
because they had reached Qatar and found work, however exploitative. Migrants
factor in hardship and precarity in the short term to achieve long-term goals
of improved living standards and prospects for their families. Brokers, however
imperfect, are seen as a necessary stepping stone.
Domestic work in Ghana
There are echoes of
the same story in west Africa, where there is rural-urban migration for
domestic work within Ghana. Here too brokers are widely regarded as unscrupulous
traders who exploit vulnerable domestic workers.
However, our
interviews with 76 migrants, employers, brokers and officials show the grey
area. Brokers do help to maintain the status quo by pressuring workers to
accept exploitative terms and behave in subservient ways, but they also help
migrants with settling into urban areas, bargaining and job-switching for
better working conditions.
Brokers offer a
route through which migrants can negotiate with employers, an otherwise
thankless task. Unlike formal agencies, informal brokers helped employers with
recommendations on character and behaviour, an aspect regarded as very
important by women who were recruiting another female to work in their home.
Lessons for policy
These two very
different examples show clear similarities. Migrants and employers are
reluctant to engage with the formal system and can have a strong preference for
informal brokers who they trust. Informal brokers are also cheaper. In Ghana,
employers are charged a non-refundable 250 Ghanaian cedis (about US$60) fee and
workers 100 cedis in the official system. Informal brokers charge less than
half and tailor their fees to each client.
Formal agencies are
also not designed to help migrants with the things that they need most. Those
seeking work away from home need shepherding through complex procedures,
support and financing, and someone who can negotiate on their behalf. Work
secured through brokers may pay less than work secured through formal channels,
but getting into the labour market at all is a prize for many migrants.
Policy makers in
Ghana, Bangladesh and beyond should recognise that brokerage is fuelled by
tightening border controls and work permit systems, and by unwelcoming urban
areas. Launching an attack on brokerage without easing migration barriers will
not work. In fact, the way brokers work should encourage more migrant friendly
practices such as cheap loans, flexible repayment and support with integration.
There are strong
parallels between the situation we have described in the global South and the
experience right now in Europe where governments are
trying to eliminate brokers without providing workable alternatives to help
migrants manage risk. All migration through brokers is labelled as
trafficking. Examples of extreme exploitation are
highlighted as governments seek to deter migrants. The role that brokers play
in easing the path to economic migration and providing protection through the
journey is rarely talked about.
The clear lesson
from Ghana and Bangladesh is that a flourishing brokerage industry is a signal
that formal channels are failing, or at least fail to meet the nuanced demands
of migration and migrants. The demonisation of brokers as exploitative
criminals is not entirely unfair, but it falls short if we are to genuinely
understand the lives and motivations of migrants while legal and legitimate
migration remains a privilege enjoyed by a rich and educated minority.
Acknowledgements: This article was first published in The Conversation.