Perceptions

It is not often that cases of Amerindian exploitation come to public attention through the media, which is not the same thing as to say that they are a rare occurrence, because one has every reason to believe they are not. Domestic workers in general are vulnerable to being taken advantage of, because so many of them are in private homes working alone, rather than in organized workplaces where the labour laws are more likely to be observed. Of all the classes of domestic worker, however, Amerindians brought from the interior are the most exposed to the likelihood of mistreatment at the hands of their employers, more particularly if they live in.

On Friday we reported a story of an “imprisoned” Amerindian domestic worker from the Mahaicony river area being “rescued” from a businessman’s home. Yesterday, we carried a second report in which the businessman in the presence of officials from the Ministries of Amerindian Affairs denied that she had ever been held captive. In fact, both he and his wife disputed several of the claims allegedly made by the woman which had appeared in our first story, while the officials did indicate it was not a case of trafficking in persons, because the worker in question had been sent on the road by herself and returned of her own free will. Nevertheless, there were certain disturbing elements in the admissions which the couple did make.

For example, the businessman did not deny that he had asked the employee concerned to rub his leg for which he gave her $1500, and did not seem to regard it as an inappropriate request. His only concern, we reported, was that it had caused a problem with his wife and for that reason he thought he should not have asked the domestic to do it. The entire context of what he had asked – a personal service from a young woman, with him in short pants and his wife out of the house – appears to have been lost on him. It was highly improper, and crossed the boundaries of the normal employer-employee relationship, opening him to allegations of making sexual advances, which, it must be said, he robustly repudiated.
Whatever the situation was with regard to money – the employers and employee’s versions do not correspond – what was conceded by the businessman and his wife was that the woman received two days and one night off a month. We had earlier reported that she had said she worked from Sunday to Sunday, and this at least received some level of confirmation from the wife who said that the domestic worker helped out on Sundays, “because we have to eat.” It does not seem to have occurred to them that she was entitled to time off in the course of the week, and that two days and one night a month is not only unacceptable but illegal. There was no mention of overtime. Her general hours ran from about 6.30 in the morning to 5 pm – well past the eight-hour day which is generally taken as the standard.

There was also the matter of her cell phone, which was taken away from her, and another given to her by her employers. We quoted the wife as saying, “I don’t want her talking and laughing when she should be doing my work.” Her husband volunteered the additional information that they had given the woman the phone because they wanted to monitor whom she called or who called her, and if they had “attempted to get a print-out from her phone it would have been an invasion of privacy.”

Live-in situations for domestic workers are always difficult, because the normal distance which obtains in a formal work situation is contracted. Such employees are living with the families, sharing the same living space with them and sometimes the same pursuits. In this instance, for example, the wife said that the domestic worker watched the Indian soaps with her in the evening. However, employers cannot get misled by the informality and familial nature of the setting to impose rules and conditions which are in breach of the labour laws or an infringement of a person’s rights, such as taking away a private cell phone and monitoring the calls on the one which was given in place of it.

This story, however, has an additional dimension which goes to the heart of how Amerindians are perceived by many in coastal society. The wife referred to Amerindians by a common derogatory name, and when rebuked responded that she herself had been referred to in derogatory racial terms by someone in her store, and she had not taken offence. If this view were to be taken to its natural conclusion, then no one should be offended by racial abuse. The businesswoman was quoted as going on to say, “Amerindians are exploiting business people,” then posing the question, “Them alone have all the rights?” Her husband relieved himself of the opinion that certain people had “too much of protection and they don’t know what they are doing. They are full of themselves.” The wife denied calling her employee names, but we reported that she did refer to her in front of the officials as a “sucker,” while for his part her husband called her “an idiot.”

The couple appear to have been oblivious to the attitude they were conveying, but it must be said that unfortunately their views are not untypical. Living away from regular contact with the coastland, following a communal lifestyle which is alien to the denizens of our urban areas, and in many cases speaking a tribal language as their first form of communication, the indigenous peoples are often not regarded as being an integral part of the body politic. Add to that their poverty, and they become demoted to the status of second-class citizens in the eyes of some of their coastal fellow Guyanese.

It is poverty, in fact, which drives the women in particular to seek work in seedy restaurants and as domestics – work, which as said above, makes them particularly vulnerable to exploitation and abuse. While their unique economic/social adaptations provide them with a subsistence living, Amerindians like everyone else nowadays need money from the cash economy to supply their various needs, and for this their options are very limited. They need money to supplement their diets, send their children to school, buy necessities such as clothing, pay fares to reach the coast for specialized hospital treatment, and a host of other things. The outlets for craft are limited, and selling produce depends on access to markets. While there have been various novel economic projects experimented with in the North West especially, and while some Amerindians in the gold regions have gone into mining, the situation for many is still very difficult.

What is needed in the indigenous areas in particular, is finding ways to raise the levels of education, and especially to have far more hinterland residents get access to secondary schooling and tertiary training to expand their earning choices. This is not to say that some progress has not been made, but it is a slow process. In addition, the problems which beset the coastal education system are only compounded in the interior. One might hope that the indigenous peoples’ organizations would come together to draft proposals for Amerindian education in concert with representatives of communities, which could form the basis of discussions with the Ministry of Education. Some parents, to give one example, cannot afford to keep their children in school beyond the primary stage even if they had the option of doing so, and it may be that some support could be given if parents agreed to keep their children in school.

That aside, the government has to keep hammering away to dispel the stereotypes associated with Guyana’s first people. One good thing about the case cited above is that the Ministries of Labour and Amerindian Affairs responded quickly to investigate the allegations; if other cases involving similar allegations come to public notice and are investigated, it will send an important message to the coastal public.