Migrant workers toil for the privileged citizens

On his only day off of the week, Suhail (30) gets up at 4 a.m., packs his cricket gear and drives to an unmade wasteland in the industrial area. Just before six o’clock the thermometer is just below 30 degrees, the light is soft and hazy, he is already sweating on a makeshift playing field.

Friday is a day off in Qatar – and a match day. Sri Lankan workers have established a cricket league to practice their national sport. Power off, release, charge for the next work week. All compatriots, you mostly keep it to yourself, it’s their surrogate family here.

Suhail came to Doha five years ago. He works as an accountant and has a relatively good job. He earns 10,000 ryals per month, the equivalent of CHF 2,700. That’s ten times the government minimum wage of 1,000 ryals that most migrant workers live on. “We are only here to make money. We are paid better here than at home,” Suhail says. “That’s why we leave our family and relatives at home. They send a large part of their income home.

Hundreds of buses take workers to construction sites

His friends here are construction workers, security guards, clerks, cleaners. They build towers and streets in the city center, deliver food, drive taxis. In the past ten years, workers have built eight stadiums for the World Cup. Works that Qataris do not pursue.

Most workers toil six days a week, between ten and twelve hours. They work day and night, often in brutal heat. Not far from the cricket ground is a huge area with hundreds of buses parked on it. They drive the workers to the construction site at the start of the shift and return them to their accommodation after the shift.

According to the UN, migrant workers make up 88 percent of Qatar’s population, and the country has the highest percentage of migrant workers in the world. Officially talking to them is undesirable in Qatar. As a journalist in Qatar you need a permit for everything, but you don’t get one – even after countless requests.

This has to do with the work situation of these migrants. Human rights organizations describe them as precarious. They accuse Qatar of exploiting the workers. Many died on the construction sites. Officials speak of several dozen, human rights organizations of several thousand dead – precisely during the construction work for the World Cup infrastructure. With the economic boom in the Gulf States, the kafala system was introduced. Kafala is Arabic and can be translated as suretyship or suretyship. The workers are dependent on their employer and can only change jobs or leave the country with their consent.

Qatari two-class airline

Qatar has officially abolished this system and implemented a number of reforms, such as the minimum wage. The law also requires employers to pay fees of at least 300 and 500 ryals, respectively, to cover the cost of food and lodging if they do not provide these services directly. However, Amnesty International’s “Reality Check 2021”, an analysis of Qatar’s labor reforms, concluded that progress has stalled and old abusive practices are resurfacing. About months of unpaid wages. Last weekend, Reuters news agency reported that the Qatari authorities had barred several thousand workers from their housing.

Whoever asks about this to guest workers who talk to journalists will only hear positive things. It’s hard to judge if this is really true or if it’s just an attempt not to attract attention. “The Qataris don’t treat us badly,” said Ghanaian Isaac (34). He has worked as a customer service representative for the Doha Metro for three years and says, “I’m just sitting here chasing money, I get shelter and food three times a day.” There are only problems if you don’t follow the rules here. “We are free, but we are afraid of being expelled. Nobody wants to break the law. Because otherwise you’ll be gone overnight,” Isaac says. And Suhail says: “I work in a pleasant working environment, we are respected.”

“Only here to make money”

In fact, however, there is a two-class society in Qatar: the 300,000 Qatari citizens, who form a minority in their own country, are doing well financially. You pay no tax, healthcare, electricity, water and education are free. Everyone has the right to work and there is practically no unemployment in Qatar. Foreigners can hardly ever obtain Qatari citizenship, even those who have lived in Qatar for more than 40 years. Like Mounir Nassif (65).

Nassif came to Doha from Lebanon in 1977. He opened a small pastry shop and called it «Patisserie Suisse». However, it has nothing to do with Switzerland. Nassif sells cakes and sweets from the Middle East. He says: “Switzerland stands for quality, that’s why my stores are called that.” Today it has twelve branches and 280 employees – all migrant workers.

Mounir Nassif sits in the windowless office at his headquarters and has the friendly air of a grandfather. “These people – including me – are only here to make money. It’s child’s play if you follow the two most important rules.” By that he means: don’t get involved in politics and don’t use drugs.

Some of his employees work seven days a week, he says. So that they would not have time to spend money and send home as much as possible. As an employer, he is also obliged to provide them with housing. They live in rooms he has rented, four of them on 42 square meters, and usually stay for two years. How long is the work visa valid for?

As an entrepreneur, Nassif has to pay ten percent tax on the annual turnover. He owns only 49 percent of his company. Because: By law, every foreign company must be at least 51 percent Qatari-owned. “The Qataris don’t work with their hands,” he says and smiles. “It’s mostly leaders.” And yet Nassif is one of the wealthy few among the more than two million foreigners in Qatar. He shows pictures of his villa in Lebanon and films of his hobby, hunting. He has just returned from his long vacation in his home country.

Suhail will have to wait until next year for vacation. He and his friends travel to Sri Lanka for a few weeks at most once a year. What remains until then is her longing for her old homeland, for family and perhaps a professional cricket match at the stadium.