Indonesian band defends Taiwanese migrant workers | Labor rights news

Kaohsiung, Thailand – Surrounded by his bandmates, Rudi takes the stage in the port city of Kaohsiung, in southern Taiwan. As he looks out over the crowd, his bandmates begin playing, whipping the audience into a frenzy of excitement.

“Silenced by threats, here we stand against this system of slavery,” sings Rudi, as the crowd forms a mosh pit, singing along with him. Beside it, a banner hanging between two microphones reads: “Migrant workers have the right to a voice.”

Originally from the city of Indramayu in West Java, Rudi struggled to find work in his home country. “It’s difficult to find a job in Indonesia, almost impossible,” he told Al Jazeera. “I didn’t have any permanent job. I did everything I could.”

Rudi moved to Taiwan in 2015 to operate heavy machinery in a factory. Like many of the island’s approximately 768,000 migrant workers, he was looking for a job and the opportunity to build a better life.

But the reality is often more complicated. Although migrant workers earn more in Taiwan, many are exploited, in debt or face physical and sexual abuse. Faced with this, many are reacting, forming unions and NGOs, and participating in protests ranging from flash mob dances to musical performances.

Composed of four workers from Indonesia, Rudi’s band, Southern Riot, was formed just three years ago and already performs at Taiwan’s biggest annual music festival, MegaPort.

Mixing poetry and punk music, their protest songs rail against what they describe as “systems of slavery” that they say trap migrants.

They also provide a space for their audience – who are also mostly migrant workers – to express themselves and escape professional life. “On stage, I feel happy”, explained Rudi. “Our songs are like an expression of our feelings.”

Facing exploitation

Almost all workers arrive in Taiwan through an employment agency or broker, which immediately exposes them to exploitation.

“We have to pay them to bring us here,” said Rudi, referring to the “placement fees” that these brokers charge. “Then, when we arrive in Taiwan, we will also need to pay. They cut our salary to pay the monthly fees.”

For many, these placement fees can be as high as $9,000. This represents an almost insurmountable cost for migrant workers who come exclusively from less affluent Southeast Asian countries, explained Lennon Wang of the Serve the People Association (SPA), a local NGO that focuses on migrant workers’ rights.

Originally from a rural farming family in northern Luzon island in the Philippines, Ronalyn Asis had to pay around 120,000 Philippine pesos ($2,035) to cover the costs of her training, airfare and placement fees before starting. working as a domestic caregiver in Formosa in 2014.

Although Asis was able to borrow money from his family, Lennon said many others are forced to seek private loans. They are often provided by the job broker itself and can come with high interest rates that can leave workers in debt.

Their problems don’t end when they arrive in Taiwan. Rudi explains that migrant workers are given more arduous tasks and expected to work harder than their local counterparts, while others are not paid adequately. “Every aspect of our work is full of injustice,” he added.

Many are expected to work beyond their contract duties or without adequate time off, Lennon said.

Initially hired to care for an elderly member of a Taiwanese family, Asis discovered that she was also expected to act as a maid, cooking and cleaning for her employers. She only received 10 hours of free time per month.

“At first, I was very disappointed with the situation, but I felt that I was already tied to my employer and that I had no choice but to accept,” she said. “I had loans to pay off, so I swallowed it all.”

Others are tricked into moving to Taiwan under completely false pretenses. When Asher and Jaali were first approached by an employment agent in Kenya, they were promised the opportunity to work as acrobats in a circus.

“The main reason I came to Taiwan was to perform, make money, support myself and my family,” Asher explained. “But when I got here, things changed.”

Instead of acting, both Asher and Jaali were instructed to work on a farm, operating heavy machinery and spraying chemicals. Their passports were taken by their employers, so they were unable to leave and look for alternative work.

They are currently involved in ongoing legal proceedings and were asked to be known only by pseudonyms so that their families would not find out what was going on.

Asher and Jaali are not alone. “The majority of migrant workers in Taiwan are at risk of forced labor and human trafficking,” Lennon said. In 2023, Walk Free, an NGO dedicated to eradicating slavery, estimated that around 40,000 people lived in modern slavery in Taiwan.

Feeling helpless

Even if they have not been victims of human trafficking, migrant workers may feel powerless before their employers.

Originally from a fishing community in Bulacan, just outside the Philippine capital Manila, Liezel Bartolome was excited to start working in Taiwan. Half of what she earned she sent home to pay for her mother’s medical care.

But when Bartolome was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and began chemotherapy, her excitement faded. “I didn’t want my mother to worry about my condition,” she explained through tears. “I always pretended I was fine. That I was happy.

Although her employers initially agreed to help cover her medical care and promised that she could continue to work for them, when she left the hospital, they tried to fire her.

“When I was released from the hospital and went home, my broker was there to terminate my contract,” she said.

Although terminating a contract in this way is illegal, many migrant workers remain unaware of their rights, according to NGOs, increasing the power imbalance between employers and workers.

For domestic caregivers, who often live in their employers’ homes and therefore depend on them for income and a roof over their heads, the imbalance is even more pronounced.

When Asis told her employers she was pregnant, they gave her 24 hours’ notice, leaving her without a source of income and facing homelessness. At seven months pregnant she was forced to move to a shelter run by SPA. She now lives among a group of migrant workers, many of whom have escaped exploitation or abuse.

Although employers regularly exercise control over migrants’ living and working conditions, they may also attempt to exercise control over their physical bodies. There have been cases of women being forced to sign contracts promising not to have children, or even pressured to take contraceptives, Lennon told Al Jazeera.

Physical and sexual abuse is also common, especially for domestic caregivers, the majority of whom are women, who may even be forced to share a room with their employers. “There are hundreds of workers who have been raped in recent years,” he said.

In SPA research commissioned in 2023, it was found that one in six female migrant workers faced gender-based violence, including explicit or implicit sexual demands.

Although migrants face difficult working conditions in Taiwan, many have a conflictual relationship with their adopted country.

For Asis, living in Taiwan gave him access to work and social services that he wouldn’t have at home. When her newborn son fell ill, she said his treatment was cheaper than in the Philippines.

A year later, her son is back with the family, while Asis plans to continue earning money in Taiwan. The baby’s name, Twain, is a “Taiwanese mix,” she explained.

Even Jaali and Asher, victims of human trafficking themselves, expressed a desire to stay. “We came here to make money,” Jaali said. “We can’t go home without money, because we don’t have jobs back home.”

For those who continue to work in Taiwan, finding community can be an important source of autonomy. In the island’s cities there are now restaurants, cafes, hotels and even nightclubs, as well as NGOs and unions, run by and for migrant workers.

In addition to engaging in advocacy, groups such as Migrante Taiwan and SPA have organized protests and flashmob dances, hoping to draw attention to migrant worker issues in a creative way.

Back in Kaohsiung, Rudi walks towards the crowd, letting the audience sing along with him as Southern Riot finishes their performance.

Although they played music for fun, since the group’s formation, the band has taken on a distinct political dimension.

With tracks titled “Love Song of an Indonesian Migrant Worker” and “From the People to the People”, they explain that they are motivated to give voice to the suffering, problems and dissatisfaction that their co-workers experience.

“We lack a voice to convey our thoughts to the Taiwanese authorities”, explained Rudi. “Through this music, we hope to be able to convey some of our difficulties, our problems.”

“We want to raise the voice of our fellow migrant workers,” he added. “I hope they know they are not alone here. We are here to help them.”