Katherine* is one of thousands of Kenyan women who migrate to Saudi Arabia each year for jobs as domestic workers in private households. She was recruited through an agent who sold her a dream of economic fortunes, which fast turned into a nightmare of human rights abuse.
The abuses faced by migrant domestic workers are enabled by their exclusion from Saudi Arabia’s labour laws, poor enforcement of existing regulations, structural racism embedded in the country’s kafala sponsorship system and the legacies of slavery and colonialism that continue to manifest in human rights abuses today. Migrant domestic workers remain among the least protected, despite being essential to the functioning of households and the broader economies in both countries.
Here, Katherine, reveals what life was like as a domestic worker in Saudi Arabia for two years, and what she thinks the Kenyan and Saudi authorities can do to end the exploitation of domestic workers and the structural discrimination they face as Black African women.
A few years ago, my mother became ill and had to have heart surgery. She was the main breadwinner of the family. Being the first born, I had to step in.
After three months, my mother was discharged from hospital, but by that time we had three months’ rent and school fees arrears because I was jobless.
Around this time, I met a man in a local shop who told me that he heard that my mother was sick and that he had a job opportunity. I was shocked when he told me it was in Saudi Arabia, because of all the stories I’d heard. But he said I will not have to pay any fees; everything would be taken care of. So, I accepted.
After that, I was given a contract to sign. I remember it said the working hours would be eight daily with a weekly day off, the salary would be SAR 800 (around USD 215) monthly with paid overtime, and it would be increased after a few months. They were rushing us to sign, and I didn’t have time to do research.
Soon after, the agent called to tell me I would be leaving on a flight the following day.
At the airport, together with at least 30 other women, we were given our travel documents. Some were going to Dubai, others, like me, flew to Riyadh.
On landing, I was greeted by another agent, who took my passport and handed it to my employer a few days after our arrival. At this point I did not know that I should not give my passport to anyone. To my relief, my employer handed it back to me after checking it. This is when I thought I was going to a good place. Indeed, my room was good with air conditioning and a lock. I was going to work for my 60-year-old employer, his wife and their six children. In the beginning, things were okay, and the workload was manageable.
Soon the madam (employer’s wife) started complaining and shouting that I was not cleaning properly. She said I wasn’t clean, and I didn’t know how to clean. I was shocked at how she spoke to me.
I never had a day off and barely left the house in two years.
Katherine
Each day I would start work at 6am and regularly work until around midnight, with just a few hours to rest and eat early in the evening. On Fridays, there used to be a party, so I would work even later, preparing, cleaning and then washing up after the guests had left. Even when I had to stay up into the early hours, my morning began at the same time, so I was sleeping just two hours on those days.
I never had a day off and barely left the house in two years.
Honestly speaking, this left me traumatized. Once, I asked my employers if I would ever be allowed outside to get some fresh air. That summer, they did take me out. But even this time I was not allowed to relax – I had to look after the grandchildren. These kids were very rude to me. They used to shout at me and tell me “you are a shaghala (maid/servant), you are supposed to do everything I tell you!”
The madam would also often shout and scream at me in Arabic, calling me names, and sometimes she would physically abuse me. Once, she asked me to take one of the baby grandchildren to the bathroom to be washed, but this was not part of my job. When I said no, because I was worried if something happened to the baby they would say I hurt her, my employer slapped me. She said: “I bought you. You belong to me, and you do what I say!” I wanted to reply, but I remembered, this is Saudi Arabia, not your country. So, I sat in the corner and cried.
They were spiteful too. They would make me wash the family’s clothes by hand using bleach, even though there was a washing machine, which gave me chest problems and discoloured my hands. Sometimes they would cut off my internet. Once, the madam took my mobile and broke it into pieces after I asked the husband for a smartphone so I could talk to my family. I was the only helper, but the grown-up children would refuse to help me carry heavy cartons of water up multiple flights of stairs when 100 boxes were delivered to the house at a time.
They would resist taking me to get medical treatment too. I have a heart condition and one time it got worse. On that occasion they took me to the hospital where I was given medicine and asked to go back after two weeks. But when the two weeks came my madam said that going back is a waste of money as I have recovered.
The madam would also often shout and scream at me in Arabic, calling me names, and sometimes she would physically abuse me.
Katherine
Food was the main issue, though. They would deprive me of food or only give me leftovers or gone-off food. The madam scolded me for taking bread from the cupboard when I was hungry. The rotten food caused me stomach problems, but they would only give me painkillers or Cardamom tea, and they would tell me off for being in the bathroom too long. When I made my own food, my madam complained that it smelled bad. Instead, I cooked dried noodles. but when she found out she threw it in the bin, saying that her children were the only ones allowed to eat noodles. So, I used to survive without eating or just drank black tea and ate biscuits.
Thankfully, I was paid on time, but because I was not allowed outside, they would just give me SAR 100 each month and send the rest directly to my family in Kenya. They didn’t increase my salary, like my contract had said. It was only after two years when I was about to go home that they offered to. By then I wanted to leave.
Since returning to Kenya, I have started working with some local organizations to raise awareness about the risks people face when travelling to the Gulf for work. Us Kenyans have this habit of standing with each other like bees – when you attack one of us, others will come to help. Having heard the stories of many other women, I actually thank God, because I think my experience was better than some.
The problem in Kenya is that the government is not strict on the recruitment agents, who send us abroad and then abandon us – no one checks how we are doing.
Our work as migrant domestic workers is vital in Saudi Arabia. If we did not do the work, everything would come to a standstill in the country, so the governments should make sure we are safe. The rights of human beings should apply to everyone, whatever their skin colour or nationality – policies in Saudi Arabia should protect the nationals but they should also protect us migrant workers. We domestic workers should be included under the Labour law so that we have the same rights as other workers. We call on the government to punish employers that mistreat foreigners and take real action to stop racism against migrant domestic workers.
Read Amnesty International’s report Locked in, left out: the hidden lives of Kenyan domestic workers in Saudi Arabia.
*Name has been changed
Tags: BUSINESS AND HUMAN RIGHTS, FREEDOM OF MOVEMENT, WOMEN'S RIGHTS.
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