Aaron* and Abby* are from the Philippines. Burdened with cash debt and lacking income to pay for their families’ cost of living, they latch on to the offer by an Israeli work agency: come to work in Malta’s health sector and earn enough money for your families to live comfortably and prosper. They have to make more debt to pay for the agency’s fees – 5,500 US Dollars – and another 1,200 Euros to the Filipino intermediary in charge of organising the flights. Then they wait, for about half a year, until their Maltese work permits arrive in the Philippines and they can start planning their trips. However, it takes them another six months before they kiss their families goodbye and move to Malta.
Other than what was promised to them, Abby ad Aaron cannot start working immediately, for which they spend much of the time of their first two months on the Mediterranean archipelago in the flat which they share with a number of co-nationals. At that point, rather than earning an income, they both need to take on more debt in order to pay for their rent contributions. And it gets worse: by the time of arrival, their work permits had already expired. The Maltese partner of the Israeli work agency, equally a provider of foreign human resources for the healthcare, chauffeur and cleaning sectors, suggests to Aaron and Abby that they return to the Philippines in order to reapply for a work permit and start the process afresh, which they refuse out of fear that they will not be allowed back to Malta – essentially leaving them with over 6,000 US Dollars in the red.
At long last, in month three on the island, the Maltese agency provides them with a three-day work placement in one of Malta’s hospitals, state owned but subcontracted to a private investor, for which they are supposed to get paid and which is meant to prepare them for taking on additional carer duties in the months to follow.
The cheques, issued by the small Maltese agency, bounce, but Aaron and Abby’s greater worry at the bank is that the policeman, who is guarding the entrance, could ask them for their papers. Ultimately, they hold no renewed work permit and therefore no legal right to stay in Malta.
This notwithstanding, the agency arranges for the two to work as carers for the coming two months. Aaron and Abby work their shifts along others from the Philippines, India, Nepal and Bangladesh who are carers, cleaners and, in rare cases, nurses.
Not being paid in the first month of working full-time, they decide to confront the Maltese agency, whose front desk person asks them to sign a paper upon receiving their new wage cheques – a ‘receipt’, as he says. Aaron is somewhat suspicious, for which he is reading the small print on the ‘receipt’: “I read this… I… am paid in full and am staying illegally in Malta. I must sign this one before I get the money.” An amount which is, moreover, less than what they had been promised when they signed up for working in Malta.
Aaron advises Abby and some other Filipino co-workers, who accompanied them to the Maltese agent, not to sign the documents. Signing this ‘receipt’ would mean that the agent could get off scot-free, without having to pay the outstanding salaries by simply reporting Abby, Aaron and their fellow carers to the immigration police for their illegal stay in Malta.
Abby and Aaron know of a group of ten Nepalese workers who had, in fact, signed such papers and were sent back home. They recount how the Nepalese had told them about their agency fees to move to Malta for work, which were around double those paid by the Filipinos.
But Aaron was a police man and social activist back home, has informed himself about his rights – something neither the work agencies nor the hospital did – and is outspoken, unlike many of his co-nationals who he describes as reserved.
Led by Aaron, the group decides to report the case to the authorities.They are being offered pro bono support by a Maltese lawyer and human rights activist. He recounts how “this is a tricky situation, because I don’t know Dr Sarah*, and I go there and speak of something. But I decided that if I don’t do this, there’s no second chance.”
With the help of their lawyer Dr Sarah, they receive shelter space and food assistance from Malta’s social services agency, Aġenzija Appoġġ. To pay for their daily needs, they both need to work irregularly, “to survive”. Both have families back home who need their financial help and without that, “we eat rice and drink water”, Aaron tells.
Three months after being recognised by the Maltese authorities as victims of trafficking in human beings, Abby and Aaron are still in limbo. They know that the Maltese police forces have issued an arrest warrant for the head of the Israeli work agency and that his Maltese counterparts had to be left off the hook for lack of evidence.
Uncertain of when – or whether, at all – their situation will change for the better, their greatest wish is to get a permit to reside in Malta and find regular jobs, to be finally able to support their families back home. They’ve gradually opened up to their closest family members, telling them about how they were misled into believing the agencies’ promises for a better life through working in Malta.
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Fuelled by the increased need of the Maltese economy for cheap and disposable labour, and fed by “work agencies” whose owners can provide exactly that, legally or otherwise, varieties of Aaron’s and Abby’sstory are likely plentiful to be found. They are not being told enough, not researched, not investigated and supported. It must be assumed that, unlike Aaron, there are many men, women and, possibly, children, who have been lured into Malta with false promises, exploited and then got rid of.
It must be further assumed that many victims of human trafficking and persons at risk are not aware about that same risk, about their rights and the support systems that are in place in Malta.
It is evident that many people living in Malta, whether Maltese or foreign, are either not aware of such gross forms of labour exploitation and rights’ violations, or, at least in some cases, that eyes are being closed because there is too much money at stake, or comfort to lose.
Since 2018, thanks to the financial support from the Julia Taft Refugee Fund of the US State Department, and with the assistance of the US Embassy in Malta, Kopin has been implementing the project “REST THB: Research, Support and Tools for the Fight against Trafficking in Human Beings in Malta, with a particular Focus on Refugees”. This project aims to shed more light on this crime, focusing on the victims and survivors and providing information about the risks of human trafficking to those that live at the margins of Malta’s society, in refugee open centres as well as in the communities.
We are so grateful to Abby and Aaron for having shared their story with us, to other victims of this heinous crime who supported us in our research and to the many other stakeholders, governmental and civil society, who provided insights to their expertise in this field. Their contributions have helped us develop and deliver info sessions for asylum seekers as well as a series of short info videos which in the coming days will be aired in several languages.
The aim of these activities is to raise greater awareness about human trafficking among at-risk populations, to encourage them to take action against the criminals and to know what kind of support they can receive in Malta.
Our appeal on this World Day against Trafficking in Persons, celebrated every year on 30th July, is for all stakeholders, but particularly for decision-makers and the authorities, to embrace a more victim-centred approach in their fight against human trafficking; to take an active stand against the undeniable fact that our unsustainable development, in which profit rules at the detriment of fundamental rights, is a breeding ground for crimes such as human trafficking and labour exploitation; to enhance the awareness within our society that the perpetrators, not the victims and survivors, are to be blamed and punished; and that much, much more resources are needed – for research, investigation, prosecution, social services, material support for victims, awareness campaigns – in order to start making a change and more effectively fight trafficking in fellow human beings.
(* Names changed)
