BACK FROM ABROAD, BANGLADESHI WORKERS STRUGGLE

When Hamida Parvin returned home to Bangladesh for a holiday from her job as a nanny in Qatar in February last year, she was excited to see her 17-year-old son after a year apart.

But the Covid-19 crisis suddenly escalated, flights were cancelled and Parvin’s joy soon became a nightmare “scramble for survival” as she sought ways to provide for her family.

“I went mad looking for jobs … nobody was hiring,” the 35-year-old told the Thomson Reuters Foundation at a small cafe in Dhaka, where she works as a chef. She is the family’s main source of income as her diabetic husband is often unwell.

“My savings went down to zero. Despite working for so many years, I am not sure if I can even pay the 7,000-taka (US$83) fee that my son needs to sit for his upcoming school exams.”

In a cafe at a training centre for migrants, Parvin fries samosas and puris for breakfast and cooks rice, fish and chicken for lunch for Bangladeshis learning to speak Arabic or fix motors before applying for a job abroad.

She earns 7,000 taka a month — less than a third of what she earned in Qatar — but considers herself lucky to have a job as one of some 400,000 migrants who returned to Bangladesh during the pandemic.

The Bangladeshi economy relies heavily on remittances from overseas workers, as well as the earnings from its huge garment industry.

But thousands of garment workers have also lost their jobs as orders from Western brands plunged because of pandemic-linked store closures. Despite a recent uptick in orders, work is scarce and debts are mounting.

After losing her job at a Dhaka garment factory a year ago, Fatima Khatun, 22, returned to her home village in southern Bangladesh and started packing crabs for export.

But she was soon laid off due to low exports.

“We don’t have enough money. Now we eat meat just once a month. We rarely buy fish and mostly rely on vegetables,” said Khatun, jobless since October.

Unemployed student Masum Billah, 23, is in a similar predicament after losing his job in a Dhaka bag factory.

“I have taken a loan to pay for my mother’s medicines … but I don’t know how I’ll pay my university fees,” he said. “The situation is driving me insane.”

Some 64% of migrants who returned home during the pandemic were unemployed and 69% were in debt, according to a March survey by the International Organization for Migration.

“Before coronavirus, both my husband and I had jobs. We were content. But things have changed a lot,” said Shahnaz Begum, who flew back from Saudi Arabia last April after her contract as a housemaid ended.

Her husband, a painter, also lost work as projects were put on hold during the lockdown that lasted for several weeks.

“There were many days when I didn’t eat just so that my children could,” said Begum, who now earns 300 taka a day stitching masks — less than half her wages in Saudi Arabia — and has taken multiple loans to survive.

“We are constantly worried about these loans and the future of our two children,” said Begum, adding that she is keen to return to the Middle East as soon as possible.

To help penniless returnees set up businesses, the Ministry of Expatriates’ Welfare and Overseas Employment is offering low-interest loans, but the scheme has been slow to take off.

When the pandemic forced cook and father-of-three Mohammad Kamruzzaman, 43, home from Kuwait, he applied for a 200,000-taka loan in July to open a small shop.

“It would have been good had I received the money soon after I arrived,” he said, standing in front of the tin and bamboo stall in outer Dhaka where he sells food, tea and cigarettes.

“But they needed a trade licence and many other documents which I couldn’t immediately provide,” he said, adding that the delay meant he had to take another loan until the government money arrived in February.

Despite his struggles, Kamruzzaman said he was happy with his new life. He also grows eggplants, melons and tomatoes on land belonging to a friend, and hopes to sell them at a good price during Ramadan this month.

“If this investment works out, I don’t think I’ll be returning to the Middle East. I am old now and I want to spend some time with my family,” he said.

But Parvin’s cafe job pays too little to allow her to stay in Bangladesh and she is looking for a new job overseas.

“My monthly salary in Qatar was 25,000 taka,” she said. “I will never be able to earn that much with my educational background here.”

Mohammad Masum Billah, 23, was laid off last year after his company’s sales were hit by the pandemic. He has been looking for a new job ever since.

Unable to find jobs during the pandemic, many Bangladeshi migrants were forced to cut down on their food intake and relied mostly on vegetables instead of meat and fish in the last year.

Fatima Khatun, 22, was laid off twice during the pandemic, once from a garment factory in March last year and then as a packer in the crab industry a few months later.