‘It’s unreasonable, but what can we do?’
earning back the premium he paid to come here. He says he felt forced to illegally overstay his visa.
He’s been reduced to chasing his wages through pleading text messages. ‘‘Big boss, it’s been almost a year since you owed me money from September last year, let’s arrange a time to sort that ... Big boss, I may have sounded harsh a while ago, but I have no choice,’’ Zhao wrote in a series of messages to an employer, who he says hadn’t paid him for 238 hours of work.
It was on the same building site where Zhao injured his back, shifting bricks for $15 an hour.
Yu* had been working in Israel for 12 years when an Auckland-based Chinese recruitment agent travelled there to sell him a dream – and a one-year New Zealand work visa for 180,000 RMB (about $38,000).
‘‘It was all fake,’’ he says. ‘‘‘You’ll get paid more in New Zealand, your wife can come here, your kids can come here and get an education, you’ll get permanent residency’.’’
Instead, for the first six months, he says he was left without work. Once his agent did find him work, he was paid $24 an hour. He’s twice failed to renew his visa – Immigration NZ told him his documents were forgeries. Now, he works for $20 an hour, paid in cash. When the factory was busy, Yu says he worked for a night and a day nonstop, then had four hours sleep, then returned. One hundred hour weeks were not uncommon, he says. Now he says he works about 66 hours per week. He lives off $1000 a month, sending home $4000.
‘‘The longer I stay in New Zealand, the more you see other workers elsewhere experiencing the same – and other workers have been through worse.’’
He smiles. ‘‘Since I made the decision to come to New Zealand, I have to stick to it. If I went home saying I was tired, people would laugh at me.’’
His daughter was five when he left China; he saw her once during his Israeli sojourn. He’s only seen her once more since he moved to New Zealand.
‘‘My daughter doesn’t call me dad because we have been apart for so long. We don’t have much to talk about because we have been apart for so long. I’m not sad about it.
‘‘There is a cultural expectation that the man will work hard and earn money for his family and his kids’ education.’’
Yu is stoic. He lives in a dishevelled old villa with five other Chinese migrants, some ducks, chickens and fruit trees close to a rural town where he works in a concrete factory.
They each pay $50 per week in board. They’ve used plyboard to cut the lounge in half to create another bunkroom. Yellow-painted sawhorses act as benches; 15-litre pails of drywall sit in the corner. When we spoke, he was anticipating a restaurant meal to celebrate Chinese New Year. It will be his only meal out for the year, he says.
‘‘This living situation is not difficult for us. We don’t ask for much. When it rains, this house does not leak,’’ he says. ‘‘I think my life is OK right now. As long as I have food to eat and get some sleep, I’m OK... I’m willing to do it because the pay is so much more.’’
The issue for workers like Yu is they become trapped in exploitative situations. Many have poor English and cannot find work outside their own communities, says Chinese-born advocate May Moncur, who has worked with many Chinese migrants.
First Union’s Dennis Maga believes construction workers’ skills means they have some market leverage, making the sector’s issues not as bad as the rampant exploitation in liquor and hospitality, which has been extensively reported on by the Sunday Star-Times.
But the Chinese workers tend to be very poorly educated on local labour laws, says Unite Union advocate Julia Liu. Most have no idea at all about their rights, Liu says. ‘‘There is a language barrier, a culture barrier and a knowledge barrier.’’
Liu posts information in Chinese in workers’ groups on WeChat, but says that’s not particularly effective as workers typically have limited education and literacy and are too time-scarce to do research.
In truth, for advocates these exploitation cases are unappealing to pursue: the workers have little money, poor language skills and keep little evidence. ‘‘These people have got no money and it is hard work, expensive work,’’ says Unite union national director Mike Treen.
In a sector with ‘‘zero union coverage’’, Treen argues the Government should compel mandatory employment rights workshops for migrant construction workers delivered by an independent group, and a wage levy on all employers to pay for a fighting fund for employment disputes.
How do you hold the big firms to account? Treen says his approach has been ‘‘moral blackmail’’ to company head office: ‘‘We tell them we will expose them unless they take responsibility for their making it right,’’ Treen says. ‘‘They can’t wash their hands of their sub-contractors not doing the right thing by their staff. If they are employing rogue contractors they have to take a moral and legal responsibility for it, in our opinion.’’
There have been some settlements, although the terms of these deals are kept confidential, and nondisparagement clauses mean workers cannot speak out.
One settlement resolved a dispute involving 20 workers allegedly exploited by a sub-contractor employed on the construction of Auckland’s luxury Park Hyatt hotel, being built by the Hong Kong-based construction giant Fu Wah International.
Fu Wah was founded and is chaired by Chinese businesswoman Chan Laiwa, whose family Forbes estimates is worth $6 billion. Contemporary news reports said they had asked Immigration NZ for permission to bring in 200 Chinese workers to build the hotel.
Another 30 Chinese migrant workers agreed to a confidential payout after a year-long legal battle against labour hire company National Personnel Ltd.
Four workers, Li Yanglin, Huang Jianjun, Yu Deli and Gao Litong, are presently pursuing an ERA case against an Auckland construction company, claiming they are owned about $40,000 of withheld wages after working 100-hour weeks at the company’s factory.
The four men, who all held valid work visas, lodged complaints with the Labour Inspectorate and with the ERA, through Moncur.
Two attempts at mediation failed, and the company then liquidated, and is now in receivership. The company’s director and sole shareholder registered a new company in September 2020.
The Ministry for Business Innovation and Employment (MBIE) originally told the Star-Times it had closed its investigation, before saying an inquiry was ‘‘almost complete’’ and a draft investigation report sent to the employer.
When contacted for comment, the company’s sole director and shareholder said: ‘‘You can’t talk to me about that, mate.’’ He said the matter had been dealt with through his lawyers and he was ‘‘no longer involved’’ with the company in liquidation.
Later, he added: ‘‘The matter is in the employment authority, and we are still waiting for our evidence to be heard. That is my only comment on the matter at this stage.’’
One of the four complainants, Gao Litong, who arrived in New Zealand in 2018 said he paid $42,000
‘‘We absolutely have current investigations under way. Should some unscrupulous employers be worried? Absolutely they should be.’’ Steve Vaughan Immigration NZ general manager
to an agent for a work visa on the promise of good pay and stable work,.
Paying for working abroad was an ‘‘unwritten rule’’ and he was prepared for his first year’s salary to pay off the premium.
Gao says he was offered $27 an hour, but claims he would work 100 to 120 hours a week, often without pay, and was asked to work all night two or three times a week.
‘‘Those times were the worst, so I tell the others, working in this way will eventually destroy our health.’’
Of his overnight shifts, Gao says: ‘‘At night, it would get very cold, I would be cold and hungry, that place is vast and empty, like a development area. There are no places around to buy food.’’
Gao says he lost weight and resigned after a month of unpaid work. He said he was told the company had cashflow problems, or that clients hadn’t paid for work.
At mediation, Gao says he was told he was hired as a contractor, but says he was always told it was a permanent contract. ‘‘If we knew it was not a proper contract, we would never have signed it.’’
The Star-Times has seen Gao’s original contract, which was a permanent employment contract. The Star-Times has also seen contractor agreements between the company and the three other workers which were provided to the workers’ advocate May Moncur. However, according to worker Li Yanglin, the contractor agreements were dishonest. ‘‘I’ve never signed that agreement,’’ says Li.
Qian*, another lured here by an apparently unscrupulous agent, says that in his three years in New Zealand, he has been ripped off by four different employers. Between them they have withheld about $20,000 in wages, Qian says. ‘‘They say it’s a worker’s paradise,’’ he says. ‘‘It’s bulls .... ’’
Qian, who has 38 years’ experience as a master carpenter, has worked in Burundi, Angola and Singapore before paying $40,000 for a work visa to come to New Zealand. It was for one year, but he
thought it would be extended to three.
It wasn’t, and he’s now here illegally, trying to recoup his losses. He believes two middlemen in China and one based here, took the bulk of the money. When he arrived, despite being promised steady employment, he was without work for six months. He says he was told ‘‘a lot of you came, there’s not enough work to go around’’.
Qian worked for cash, without written records, meaning attempts to be repaid for his work on luxury city apartments and the refurbishment of state houses have faltered at mediation.
And the sub-contracting model has allowed his direct employers to excuse their failure to pay wages by claiming they themselves weren’t paid. ‘‘The society is divided into layers like this,’’ he says. ‘‘It’s unreasonable but what can we do?
‘‘It’s useless trying to reason with them. I just need a job … [and] I’m in a very passive position.’’
Immigration NZ knows there are issues. The agency’s general manager Steve Vaughan says they have a ‘‘particular focus’’ on the construction industry and are engaging and educating the entire sector. He would like the sector itself to help regulate out the ‘‘bad actors’’.
Vaughan says INZ has a ‘‘good level of understanding’’ of the issues facing the sector, and investigations ‘‘in the pipeline’’.
‘‘Are we aware of exploitation and things in the construction sector that aren’t as they should be? I would say absolutely, we are, and we are doing things about it. We absolutely have current investigations under way. Should some unscrupulous employers be worried? Absolutely they should be.’’
Vaughan says they would use the ‘‘full force of the law’’ on employers who cut corners, broke minimum entitlements and didn’t treat ‘‘migrant workers with the respect and dignity’’ they deserve.
President of the New Zealand Chinese Building Association, Frank Xu, who is the deputy general manager of Auckland-based developer Shundi Customs, acknowledges there is exploitation among Chinese workers. But he says there is ‘‘another side’’ to the story.
‘‘Some workers have learned how to use the law to protect themselves after coming to New Zealand,’’ he says. ‘‘There are many bosses in the industry, and companies who have said to me, these workers have been abroad for many years, they already know the tricks.’’
Xu believes once employment disputes are taken to court, it is the employer that is in a more vulnerable position. ‘‘I think both parties [employer and worker] have issues.’’
Xu says the large number of small construction firms run by Chinese New Zealanders struggle to familiarise themselves and comply with employment laws. They could improve their technical, safety and regulation compliance, he says. As a non-profit, the association can only ‘‘educate’’ its members through workshops. The government could do more enforcement work.
Asked about workers being expected to work 60-80 hours, Xu says the ‘‘cultural’’ aspect must be considered. ‘‘If you ignore the cultural background, you may say they are being exploited … (however) workers and employers, they have their own ways reaching an agreement.’’
Xu says contracts are ‘‘probably not so important’’ for many Chinese companies and that informal culture needs to change. Many workers ask for extra hours, Xu says. When previously running his own construction company, one of his staff resigned saying he needed 70 hours of work a week to send more money home.
One hope for change, according to First Union’s Dennis Maga, is the Construction Accord agreement between government, unions and major building companies.
Maga says it provides levers to force the big companies to stamp out exploitative practices, including asking government to withhold state contracts. ‘‘Once we find … exploitative practice … we are going to be holding them [the big firms] accountable,’’ Maga says.
First has also negotiated free labour market agreements with major labour hire companies. ‘‘Every time we discuss unions and collective agreements, they freak out. This is a soft approach to make sure they abide by minimum standards,’’ he says.
‘‘A lot of employers are worrying about retaining their workforce right now because Covid has prevented them bringing workers in,’’ says Maga. ‘‘That’s a silver lining but it’s not sustainable – the landscape will change again. But for once, workers have some leverage.’’
Construction Accord transformation director Dean Kimpton says he is unaware of Chinese migrant worker exploitation in the industry, but agrees it is it’s ‘‘of concern’’.
When the Accord was set up to resolve issues facing the industry – including the collapse of several major players – one of its key goals was to provide safe, secure and well-paid careers. That goal did not differentiate between resident and migrant workers, Kimpton says.
Accord signatories are expected to act decisively if they have sub-contractors who don’t meet those standards.
‘‘If it is an issue, we need to flush it out and talk about it and decide how we go about dealing with it – this is right in the space where the Accord wants to operate,’’ he says.
All this will be thin comfort to the workers the Star-Times interviewed.
Asked about his future prospects, Zhao says he has little hope of successfully chasing down the $14,000 of wages he says is owed to him.
‘‘If it wasn’t because for the pandemic, I would’ve gone back,’’ says the 55 year-old who has spent more than 20 years working away from home. He looks forward to the day borders open, flight prices drop and quarantine requirements are lifted.
Pseudonyms have been used for workers, marked with *, who have overstayed and are concerned about potential deportation and retribution from employers.
Know more about the exploitation of Chinese migrant workers? Email steve.kilgallon@stuff.co.nz or lucy.xia@stuff.co.nz