The final match of the 2022 World Cup played between France and Argentina at Qatar's Lusail Stadium was watched by 90,000 people in the stands and an estimated 1.5 billion on screens worldwide. Now that the final whistle has been blown, Whakaata Māori video journalist Rituraj Sapkota, originally from Nepal, says he can pen his reasons for boycotting the World Cup without raining on anyone's parade.
The response to how many people died in the construction boom that happened in Qatar’s decade-long preparations for the World Cup depends on who you ask. In 2021, The Guardian reported that at least 6500 migrant workers died in Qatar since it won the bid to host the event, noting this might be an underestimate. But the Qatari government says there have only been three work-related deaths.
About 88% of Qatar's population comprises of foreign migrant workers, most of whom come from developing South Asian nations like Nepal, Bangladesh, India, Pakistan and Sri Lanka.
Close to 400,000 workers are from Nepal, a country with a population of less than 30 million, and make up a disproportionately high share of that workforce. Compare that with 400,000 workers from Bangladesh, a country with 170 million people, and 700,000 from India- a country with a population of 1.38 billion.
Of those 6500 dead expat workers from these 5 countries, (a figure Qatar maintains is “within the expected range for the size and demographics of the population), more than 1600 are from Nepal.
Two out of the three officially reported dead were from Nepal.
Then there are recorded deaths of workers who return to Nepal from the Middle East and die of reasons such as "kidney failures." There are those that are classified as “natural deaths”- a broad category that includes, among other things, acute respiratory and heart failure outside of work. Qatari labour law requires an employer to pay compensation only for work-related deaths and so, most fatalities do not qualify for compensation.
A world apart
The World Cup was held in the northern-hemisphere winter, and matches played late in the evenings in state-of-the-art stadiums with air conditioning to protect players and spectators from the blistering heat. The unskilled young men who built the infrastructure in the months and years leading up to the World Cup had no protection. Work didn’t stop come summer or winter (except for some months in the year when the government banned outdoor work during the hottest hours of the day, and days were broken up into early and late shifts); working hours were long and salaries were usually under 400 USD a month.
As the global event took off, fans who had travelled to Qatar complained about their accommodation- the transport was bad, the hospitality wasn’t great and there was no booze. Yet even the cheapest of these cabins would have been a luxury for the hundreds of thousands that built the facilities in Doha whilst living in overcrowded rooms built to safety standards the West would drop its jaws at, and making do with homemade liquor illegally obtained to help get over a 14-hour work day in the intense dry heat.
The people that built Doha and the people that visited it to watch football are a world apart. My people are the former and I could not bring myself to enjoy a gala event built on their sweat and blood.
Hypocricy?
Double standards, I have been told. Undocumented workers (or just people struggling to make ends meet) live in overcrowded basement rooms with fire and electric hazards in cities like New York, too. Here in Aotearoa, tying work visas to employers had created employment traps and opportunities for exploitation. We have all read the stories- cardboard box homes, unpaid and underpaid labour, and long periods of work without holidays. Not very different then from the Middle East's kafaala system where migrant worker visas are tied to the employer, meaning they cannot change jobs and are the mercy of their employers? We have also read stories of fake leave records and declined leave requests for important life events. Not very different then from Qatari companies that denied their Nepali workers leave to attend funerals back home after the 2015 earthquake?
I would argue that here and in the west, though, when (and because) cases are brought to light, the government responds and tries to do better, organisations intervene, and the civil society responds. Contrast that with Qatar’s reaction to global criticism of its workers’ rights record. Contrast that with Fifa’s inaction in the face of this rising criticism.
People- an export commodity
The rot begins at home. Many poor young men in Nepal look to go overseas for work opportunities. (Most young people leave, but it’s mostly men from low-income households that travel to labour-hungry countries in the Middle East to work as unskilled workers in low-paying jobs.) Many of them are the sole breadwinner in their families. When they die, those back home are left not only with no source of income, but also with the debt incurred when the person left to work overseas.
For decades, “manpower agencies”- companies that connect people looking for employment with companies looking for cheap labour have made a fortune at the expense of hopeful young men luring them with false promises- false salaries, false working conditions and in many cases, false job offers. Few have been booked. Corruption is rife, the manpower lobby is strong and the administration is weak, if at all willing.
At one point in 2016, 1500 young men, on an average, were leaving Nepal daily to work overseas.
At around the same time, on an average, six of them were returning home in a coffin every day.
The flow of those of us going overseas has never ebbed. I acknowledge and understand the privilege I am writing here with. I am one educational degree away from my compatriots who are standing on a scaffold in the desert heat in a Gulf country at this moment. I, and most people I know, know someone who has lost their life or a family member while working overseas.
A football-loving nation
Nepal loves its football. It rarely makes it through the second round of qualifiers, and has never played at a football World Cup. But every four years, the nation divides itself evenly into Brazilian and Argentinian jerseys (and a splattering of a few other teams) and cheers for its team of choice like its own were playing for the cup.
I abstained, but it is not fair that I expect other people to boycott an event that comes only once in four years.
At the same time, I chose to pen my thoughts because talking about an issue helps. After all, it was because someone talked about it that countries in the Middle East are revisiting the kafaala. It was because of international condemnation that Qatar (and UAE) replaced children with robot camel jockeys for their races, and it can only be hoped that with increased international attention, working conditions for those that are on the scaffolds right now will get better.