Why Are African Domestic Workers Stranded in Lebanon?

The kafala system regulates foreign labor and enables the widespread exploitation of migrant workers, who are left behind to face Israel’s latest attacks in Lebanon.

A group of four women migrant domestic workers pose for a portrait in Beirut, Lebanon on September 24, 2022.

The kafala system is a modern slavery system where the domestic workers lose almost all of their rights and it is still present in several countries of the Middle East.

Photo by Adri Salido/Anadolu Agency via Getty Images.

When Israel began a series of deadly airstrikes on Lebanon two weeks ago — alleging that the targeted locations were Hezbollah strongholds or military facilities placed in people’s homes — the internet was flooded with images reminiscent of Gaza; bombs flattening residential buildings, people fleeing their homes and streets filled with displaced people.

Among the displaced are a group of people that haven’t been receiving nearly enough attention: the African migrant domestic workers who were left behind by their Lebanese employers, having to fend for themselves in this latest escalation. Reuters reported at least one migrant domestic worker (MDW), a young woman from The Gambia named Anna, was killed in an airstrike on her employer’s home this past week.

As of July, more than 28,000 of the migrant workers counted by the UN’s migration agency, IOM, were living in parts of South Lebanon and the Eastern Beqaa Valley that are under heavy attack from Israel. There are another 33,000 workers living in Beirut. This is due to the Kafala sponsorship system.

The kafala system

Kafala is Arabic and translates as “guarantee.” In its original meaning, the term refers to the Islamic adoption system in which a kafil, or caretaker, takes responsibility for an orphan and treats them as their own child until they are of age. In the 1950s, the concept of kafala was expanded in certain Gulf states, and it has since become an infamous sponsorship system that enables modern-day slave labor.

Modern slavery is defined as endangering human dignity and rights, and is characterized by forced labor, hazards, unpaid work, mental, physical and sexual violence, kidnapping, torture and sex trafficking. According to the International Labour Organisation (ILO), an estimated 28 million people worldwide were living in forced labor in 2022, the majority (63 percent) of which were found in the private sector. Women, children and migrants are disproportionately vulnerable groups. Of the 11.5 million MDW worldwide, 27.4 percent are in the Arab states.

While modern-day slavery occurs in almost every country, the kafala system stands out for its specific legal framework. Following the discovery of oil in the Persian Gulf, several Arab countries started hiring foreign workers to accelerate development. They established the kafala sponsorship system, under which the states of Bahrain, Kuwait, Oman, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, Jordan and Lebanon give local individuals or companies sponsorship permits to employ foreign laborers.

Kafils are entitled to a set of legal abilities to control workers: without their permission, their employees cannot change jobs, quit jobs, or leave the country. Upon arrival, MDWs are usually made to hand their passport and residence permit over to the kafil, which effectively leaves them at their sponsor’s mercy. From this point onwards, the worker is confined to the private sphere which is typically characterized by racist and sexist mistreatment.

In the case of Lebanon, this means that if an employer flees the Israeli attacks, but instructs their maid to stay and watch over the house, she is now stuck in an active war zone. Melissa Wangari, a 29-year-old from Kenya, told The New Humanitarian that her employers not only left her behind in a southern village while it came under Israeli fire, but they also took her passport with them.

Maids in hell

Agencies recruit female migrants from Sub-Saharan Africa and Southeast Asia, luring them with promises of attractive and well-paid jobs such as teacher, saleswoman, nanny, nurse or caretaker for the elderly. Once the women have applied for the job — it only takes a photo and a passport — they are chosen by a kafil, with a salary scale based on racist criteria (e.g. skin color and the perceived intelligence/education related to it).

They are often forced to work for free for the first few months, to reimburse the airfare and administrative costs, which the employer is legally mandated to pay for. MDWs rarely sleep in a private room and are reported to often work seven days a week for up to 20 hours a day.

The kafildictates their freedom of movement and often restricts access to communication devices. In this isolation, they become their employer’s property, leaving them at constant risk of physiological, physical and sexual violence. Human Rights Watch found that every week one MDW in Lebanon dies from unnatural causes, with suicide and attempted escape topping the list. However, the actual number of deaths is believed to be higher than that. Survivors tell stories of rape, malnourishment and blackmail.

Oftentimes, fleeing the employer is the only possible course of action, which produces a vulnerable class of MDWs who reside informally in the host states, struggling to find ways to secure their livelihood. Lebanese filmmaker Nadine Labaki’s Capernaum (2018) poignantly captures the plight of an Ethiopian domestic worker who cannot return home after escaping from her abusive employer’s house. The power of visa processing and renewal lies with the sponsor, but it is the worker who is liable for failure to produce the necessary documentation.

Without a passport and residence permit, African women are stranded in countries whose majority do not care for their human rights, constantly facing detention and deportation. While detention has been described as worse than kafils' houses, deportation creates problems at home, as survivors are often shamed and stigmatized for returning traumatized and without money.

Abolishing kafala

Neither Arab nor African states have made successful strides in ending kafala. Despite allegedly improved legal frameworks, a lack of labor inspection mechanisms in the private sphere makes it difficult to stop abuses. Both the police of the host countries and the migrants’ embassies generally refuse to help women who reach out seeking rescue from their abusive employers.

Some African nations, such as Kenya and Ethiopia have taken restrictive measures and barred their nationals from obtaining work visas to certain Gulf states. However, analysts worry that such efforts will boost human smuggling as desperate workers seek other ways to travel to the region.

In reality, the abolition of kafala is contingent on a restructuring of capitalism’s supply and demand, which rules Africa’s relationship with the Arabian Peninsula. As long as women live in economic precarity and struggle to make ends meet, they will be pulled towards countries that have no reason to improve the conditions for workers who will try their luck regardless of the horrific stories they are told.

In the fight against kafala, civil society has proven to be the first and last resort. Grassroots organizations document the web of abuses that MDWs are subjected to, as well as the high proportions of suicides that happen as a result of this exploitative treatment.

NGOs provide shelter and support to those who manage to escape and try to establish channels of communication with those who are still in isolation. For example, the Anti-Racism Movement has set up several Migrant Community Centres across Lebanon, offering workers legal rights and safety workshops, computer classes, as well as Arabic, English and French language instruction.

In 2019, the October Uprising in Lebanon sparked a glimmer of hope when MDWs took to the streets alongside locals to demand the abolition of kafala. But what happens now that the Lebanese themselves are fighting to survive, and spaces for shelter are reserved for Lebanese citizens?

How to help

African embassies, for the most part, are failing to support their citizens, and the IOM lacks the funding needed to bring them to safety. Once again, it’s up to civil society to support the most marginalized people in this war.

A fundraising appeal published by a group of Lebanese grassroots organizations has been launched to support those affected. For now, supporting fundraisers like this to assist its coalition members in their efforts to cover costs to access healthcare services, emergency housing, and other forms of urgent support for marginalized groups, is the best way to help.

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