Dream becomes nightmare for workers

Dream becomes nightmare for workers

Fitri Wulandari and Tertiani ZB Simanjuntak, Nunukan, East Kalimantan

Rustan was dreaming of streets paved in gold when he took the
offer to work in Malaysia last year. He left his hometown of
Rappang in South Sulawesi, bringing with him his wife Pasah and
their two-month-old son, Ruslan.

To reach the land of his dreams, the young family ran the risk
of getting locked up for not having legal travel documents.

From the transit island of Nunukan regency, the family hopped
on board a small boat provided by the labor export company PT
Mitra Harta Insani to reach Malaysia's Tawau region in Sabah
state at night. From there, they were immediately taken to the
camp of the biggest cocoa plantation in the area.

Earning RM 6 (US$1.60) per day, Rustan saved RM 200 after one
year of hard work. But he spent most of that money to take the
family home for a vacation two months ago.

It was just on their return to Malaysia that local authorities
started deporting Indonesian illegal migrant workers in
compliance with a new labor law which took effect on Aug. 1.

Rustan, 23, said his employer had sent him and another 70
workers to obtain new passports and work permits before the
stringent immigration policy took effect. Another batch of
workers would be sent after they got back, he said.

By the time he arrived in Nunukan, Rustan hardly had any
money. The employer had given Malaysia-based agents of the
Indonesian labor supply companies RM 1,050 to pay for new
passports for each of the workers. Rustan had to pay the labor
supply company to get decent meals and safe drinking water for
his son, in addition to paying for running water for bathing and
washing clothes.

"Our boss said we had to get our passport as soon as possible
so that we could get back to work. It is a big plantation and we
are desperately needed there. The company said our monthly salary
would be cut by RM 50 to RM 100 upon our return," Rustan told The
Jakarta Post as he looked after Ruslan, now 14 months old.

The family stayed for a month on a sidewalk in front of a shop
on Jl. TVRI in downtown Nunukan. They were then moved to a
shelter newly built by the regency's administration in the
Tanjung Mambunut campground last Thursday after PT Mitra claimed
Rustan was not on the list of migrant workers it had sent to
Malaysia.

Over 23,000 Indonesian migrant workers are camping in Nunukan,
waiting for legal entry back to Malaysia or to board a boat back
home.

His unrealized dream will force Rustan to leave his son in the
care of relatives back home soon after the couple obtain their
passports since the Sabah government refuses to allow anyone
without a work permit to enter the state.

"What else can we do? I could work at home, but it wouldn't be
enough. Moreover, I'm ashamed to go back for good," he said.

Most Indonesian migrant workers working in the Sabah region
come from Nusa Tenggara, Sulawesi and islands in eastern
Indonesia, where development has been neglected by the government
for decades.

Farming and fishing cannot meet their needs for a better life
similar to living in the western part of the country.

Rustan is lucky to have relatives back in Rappang and his wife
to work with on the Malaysian plantation.

Carla Losor of Ende, East Nusa Tenggara, did not get a job
offer. With her 18-month-old twins Carles and Carlos, she left
her husband Marcelinus Sega and elder daughter Kety in Sabah to
get a visitor's permit, which is valid for one month.

The new Malaysian labor law has put her life in turmoil, since
she doesn't have any skills to join the labor force nor the heart
to leave her toddlers.

Not all that glitters is gold for 50-year-old Petrus Manu of
Flores, East Nusa Tenggara, who has been married to a Malaysian
for 20 years, during which he experienced hardship as an
Indonesian in the neighboring land.

"The police repeatedly arrested us, took our money, jewelry
and wristwatches. They stripped us naked to make sure we weren't
hiding anything else. They took the girls out of the detention
center and returned them after hours. It has become common
practice for us to give money to the police although we were
working there legally. The local administration even made me
carry an identity card, which is still valid as well as my work
permit.

"If it was not because of my four children back home in Sabah
and my crippled wife working alone on our vegetable farm, I would
go back to my hometown. I may not be living well back home, but
at least I would not have to live in fear," he said.