Bhaiyya, You Are My Brother

Through proactive and sustained engagement, groups such as the COVID-19 Migrant Support Coalition (CMSC) not only witness first-hand the issues and challenges that impact migrant workers but also leverage diverse resources to challenges facing workers in meeting their physiological needs had long been in existence, their impact was further exacerbated during the pandemic. address their concerns. In this regard, increased agency is granted to migrant workers through honest dialogue with such groups, to allow their voices to be better heard without having to be directly identified which may result in them losing their jobs.

For this article, we hope to share the challenges that migrant workers continue to face during the pandemic through three verticals: physiological, mental (which also encapsulates emotional), and societal. It is also pertinent to note that the issues described under all three verticals tend to occur in tandem with each other, rather than being mutually exclusive. We will then look at approaches that we can take in addressing some of these challenges.

Physiological

For many of us in Singapore, life comes with a wealth of creature comforts that we tend to take for granted. Our basic needs are by and large met without a hitch – and then some! It would therefore be quite jarring to hear of some migrant workers living in cramped quarters with unsanitary conditions, while some have to contend with catered food that is either unclean or lacking in nutrition. If these challenges facing workers in meeting their physiological needs had long been in existence, their impact was further exacerbated during the pandemic.

With dorms placed under lockdown, workers were no longer able to go on regular trips to markets for groceries. With access to fresh fruit and meat cut off for them, even more, workers had to rely on catered meals paid for by their employers. While many of these employers resort to low-quality catering in order to cut costs – a predicament which was highlighted during the recent Jalan Tukang dorm incident¹ where worms were sighted in the workers’ meals – the economic fallout from the pandemic also meant that a number of employers just did not have sufficient funds to provide adequately for the needs of their workers during the lockdown period.

Workers were also unable to send money to their families back home, many of whom would have counted on their once regular remittances. Some also could not top up their prepaid mobile balances, which combined with intermittent wireless internet reception at their dorms, prevented them from calling their loved ones overseas. Nevertheless, there were on-ground initiatives aimed at boosting digital literacy among migrant workers in order to avail themselves to various online banking and e-remittance platforms, thus negating the need for trips to the bank, while donated data cards helped alleviate some of the loneliness felt by these workers.

While there was some respite for the workers through the energetic efforts of various volunteer groups working in tandem with the authorities, the reality was that access to necessary resources was a challenge during the lockdown, which possibly triggered other less obvious issues for migrant workers.

Mental

While it is plain to see that the lockdown of dorms has impacted access to tangible and important goods for migrant workers, there are just as many issues impacting the mental and emotional wellbeing of workers that begin to manifest themselves tangibly. Firstly, the very notion of a lockdown essentially means that workers are kept onsite in their dorms with no social interactions permitted outside the dorms, as well as measures to even exclude inter-block mixing within dorms and worksites – with all communal facilities (if any) dorms cordoned off. This brings feelings of severe isolation, loneliness, and even abandonment upon themselves, which has led to depression among workers, not unlike how the rest of us felt during the circuit breaker period when we were cut off from interacting with friends and relatives living outside of our primary homes.

The aforementioned economic fallout from the pandemic also means that many workers are left in limbo with regard to their employment. Even if they were ‘lucky’ enough to still have work, they would have been left idle in their dorms without any meaningful interactions with the outside world. This can impact workers in several ways; losing one’s job could severely affect one’s self-worth, especially when viewed through the lens of migrant workers leaving their families thousands of miles behind for the sole purpose of pursuing better earning prospects. Consequently, it is not uncommon to hear of workers demonstrating depressive or even suicidal tendencies.

While there are many efforts across various sectors targeted at meeting the tangible needs of migrant workers, such as nutritious food, toiletries, and prepaid SIM cards, there is growing acknowledgment of the need to work with migrant workers in tending to their mental wellbeing. Groups such as CMSC and others have rolled out mental health e-counselling platforms that allow workers experiencing mental health issues to speak with trained therapists. However, we also noted that some of these mental issues are tied to the societal challenges facing migrant workers here.

Societal

The nature of dormitories in Singapore is such that they are located far away from main population nodes and close to industrial zones such as Tuas and Senoko. They are also close to key transportation points such as the Causeway and the Tuas Mega Port. A natural consequence of this arrangement is that migrant workers, while providing a vital source of labour for key economic sectors that local workers tend to eschew, become a largely unseen entity to most Singaporeans.

With hardly any meaningful interaction between local residents and guest workers, other than the cursory glance when one walks past a construction area, inherent biases and misjudged perceptions combine to become an inevitable sense of reluctant tolerance, punctuated by periodic expressions of loathing.

Is this societal stance a recent shift? Not quite, and if we were to take a stroll down memory lane to 2006, we see that Singapore’s Housing and Development Board (HDB) had announced that HDB flat owners were no longer allowed to rent their homes to migrant workers, in response to public dissatisfaction with having to live next to such workers². In 2008, almost 20 percent of residents in the affluent Serangoon Gardens neighbourhood had vehemently opposed the Government’s plans for a new migrant worker dormitory close to the estate.

In this textbook case of ‘not in my backyard’ sentiment or NIMBYism, the hustings ahead of the 2011 General Elections even saw certain political actors capitalising on this undercurrent of frustration³. Amidst a pandemic, it would therefore be a natural instinct for some of us to want to cleave these ‘deplorables’ away from the safety of our estates through excessive lockdowns and reduced interactions in public areas.

Where does this leave our migrant workers? From interactions on the ground with them, we find that there is an understandable disappointment due to these misperceptions. Some are painfully aware of the racial undertones and wanton prejudice aimed at them in the form of pejorative phrases and churlish stereotypes. There are also many who, after having served in Singapore for many decades, have come to view this island as a home away from home, and look at the gleaming landmarks gracing our city – essentially the fruits of their own labour – with immense pride.

Recommendations

So what do we do then, as a society? Where do we even start? Amid our own personal struggles in this pandemic, it may seem daunting to start caring about the concerns of another person, let alone an entire community. Fret not, as there are some simple ways to show care and concern for our migrant workers.

A first step would be to be aware as well as stay constructive and action-oriented as far as possible. While it may be tempting to chase clout with a woke-sounding Instagram post or a TikTok video on the migrant worker situation, creating awareness is only the start of solving any issue. Worse, while we may be content with patting our backs for a post well done, virtue signalling does next to nothing about addressing the real-world concerns of migrant workers, which are very much off-grid.

However, volunteer efforts are not the only way of creating change, though talent, time and effort are always welcome. All it really takes is an acknowledging nod or a cheery “Hello!” that conveys a simple yet powerful message – or offering a drink or meal to our worker friends. Through these simple acts of kindness, we witness and affirm the migrant worker in our midst, thus nullifying the aforementioned point about workers being unseen.

Then there are the bolder actions that spring out of genuine care and concern, like the 4-year-old child who used his birthday angpows to buy care packs for migrant workers in his estate⁴. It is indeed heartening to see many acts of kindness from individual residents as well as passionate folks coming forth to volunteer with groups such as HealthServe, CMSC and It’s Raining Raincoats, and we encourage many of you to come forward with your ideas, time and resources.

It is also important not to diminish the agency and capacity of migrant workers through our volunteering efforts, and it is something that we keep a keen watch of. While reaching out to meet the needs of our migrant workers is not a bad thing in and of itself, we need to be conscious of how we view these individuals: are they pitiful, hapless folks in need of hand-holding, or are they nuanced individuals with unique personal narratives? This is where dialogue plays a crucial role.

At CMSC, we have a Zoom learning exchange session called WeTalk as well as a penpal programme called WePals to encourage meaningful exchanges between Singaporeans and migrant workers. It is interesting to see that while we lack much knowledge about workers’ lived experience, many of them also are not aware of Singaporean culture, despite their very real contributions to building our cherished icons. Such platforms allow understanding and empathy to bloom, for it is only when we truly know the person sitting across the table, that we are then compelled to show real care.

Ultimately, the pandemic has provided a teachable moment for us as a society in managing our relationship with the workers that toil to build our nation. We certainly hope that we have not missed out on any of these lessons, whether it is just coming to terms with this topic for a start or understanding what it means to really reach out and demonstrate care for others, as well as doing right by them. Otherwise, it would be a shame for our society to emerge from this tumultuous season unaffected and missing out on a more resilient and caring spirit.