Migrant who denounced abuse in Qatar asks for help: ‘Selection can change our history’

Malcolm Bidali went to Qatar dreaming of a good job and prosperity. Like the more than 2 million migrants who are estimated to work in the host country of the next World Cup.

Not everything went as expected by the Kenyan, who was subjected to very bad working and living conditions. When he was in the service of the security company GSS Certis, he came to live in a house with 54 people, already during the Covid-19 pandemic.

Bidali’s story is no exception, and he decided to become an activist, demanding better conditions in the country. His denunciations took him to prison, where he reports that he suffered psychological torture.

Back in his NGO-supported country, the 29-year-old Kenyan is now urging athletes at the 2022 World Cup to raise their voices in support of Qatari workers.

The hotel that will host the Brazilian team in the World Cup even hired the services of GSS Certis. And Bidali, without the best memories of the company, appeals to those staying at the Westin Doha at the end of the year: “You can change our history.”

The Westin Doha owner says she no longer has a contract with GSS Certis, which, in turn, did not respond to a request for the report. The Qatari embassy, ​​the CBF (Brazilian Football Confederation) and all the companies mentioned in the following statement were also contacted, but there was no response.

Check out Malcolm Bidali’s statement at leaf.

This is a long story, but I will try to be brief.

I went to Qatar for the first time in January 2016. A neighbor, who worked in Doha, came on vacation to Kenya and told me, “Malcolm, you can try for a better life.”

At that time, I was in a very bad moment: no job, no home, in and out of shelters, with bad company, sometimes abusing drugs, that kind of thing.

I went. First of all, you have to understand that migrants there don’t have a personal life. It’s work, home, work, home. Repeat, repeat and repeat until the contract runs out.

I didn’t complain, I was lucky to be in a good company. As I’m an introverted person, I didn’t do much on my free time, I even preferred to stay at home. When I received it, I went to the mall.

I stayed there for a year and a half, saved money and went back to open my own business, but things didn’t go as planned.

Back to Doha

I returned to Qatar in September 2018 and joined GSS Certis.

The workers’ housing complex where I lived was in the industrial area of ​​Doha, which is basically the city’s ghetto, where migrants, bricklayers, janitors, gardeners live.

Anyone there can tell you what happened, it’s not my exclusive knowledge: 12-hour work shifts, terrible food and racism.

The salary was the lowest possible: 1250 Qataris per month [R$ 1.948, na cotação atual]. To get an idea, the cheapest rent there was more than 1,000 Qataris.

So we had to live in the company’s housing. There were eight blocks, about 2,000 people, security guards who worked on the subway, airports, banks, hotels. To be honest, I saw worse places, but our situation was horrible. We were six people in a room.

Of course, I started going out more. I went to the library a lot. There was my home away from home; for a moment, I forgot that I was a migrant.

I tried to volunteer in several places, but was rejected. I tried to become a scuba diver. I figured I could present myself as more than just a migrant, I would have a skill. I was not able to.

I was almost hired to write for the iloveqatar.net website. I passed the interview, I would get four times as much. This was in 2019, before the labor reform. When I asked my company to change jobs, it said no.

The pandemic arrives

We were moved to other, supposedly better, accommodations. They were worse. They were five-bedroom houses, with 54 people. Do you know how to put 54 people in a house like that? There are 20 on the ground floor, 12 in the living room, 8 in a room adjacent to the kitchen; on the first floor, three bedrooms with 8, 8 and 10 people; 8 more people on the second floor.

I created an anonymous account and sent emails to the company that hired me for GSS Certis, Msheireb. They didn’t even respond. Later, I found out that the Qatar Foundation controlled this company. I wrote to them, and they replied, “Let’s look into it”—that corporate protocol bullshit.

I wrote to the Ministry of Labour, the Ministry of the Interior. Nobody did anything. Then I remembered that, in the library, I met a person involved with human rights. I asked for help. That’s how I found out about Migrant Rights and published my first article, under a pseudonym, based on a journal I kept.

When the pandemic eased and we returned to the housing project, some things had improved. That’s when I realized that my voice had power.

I started to write more, until, in 2021, I wrote a post that cited Sheikha Mozah, founder of the Qatar Foundation, seen as a model of social engagement and wife of Hamad bin Khalifa, Emir of Qatar.

Weeks later, I unknowingly clicked on a malicious link on Twitter. Five days later, I was arrested.

May 4, 2021, 7pm

I was resting when the head of the room called me into his office. I thought it was something about vaccination. When I arrived, he told me that someone in public relations wanted to see me. A warning light went off: he was kind to me. He was always an asshole, seriously, especially with Africans.

He made a call and I heard the term “MOI” from Ministry of the Interior [Ministry of Interior, em inglês]. There was something wrong. I took out my cell phone and wrote to a certain person: “Possible SOS”.

The boss warned me that a driver would take me to the company office. I stopped and thought, “For sure, we’re not going there, they’re going to deport me.”

I got in the car and started deleting conversations, contacts and emails from my cell phone. But on the road, we went straight through the exit that would lead to the airport and headed for the city.

I kept telling my contact everything, until I got to the Ministry of the Interior. I left my location.

Entering the Ministry, two men ordered me to get out of the car and hand over my cell phone. I was very scared. At the time, I remembered Jamal Khashoggi. If he, a journalist and Saudi citizen, was killed and dismembered, what would become of me, a Kenyan, a security guard?

They handcuffed me, took my documents, cards, wallet, and took me to an interrogation room. I don’t know how long the interrogation lasted, it felt like it took all night.

Afterwards, they gave me prison clothes and left me in solitary confinement, about 2 by 3.5 meters. There was no window, just a camera, and the light was on forever. To go to the bathroom, he asked for an intercom. They brought me food and never stopped questioning me.

I was not tortured physically, but psychologically for sure.

I spent three days there, until they transferred me to a larger cell, with a window, bathroom and even a TV. He could ask to turn off the lights and change the temperature of the air-conditioning. The food was ok. They even changed my breakfast when I said I was allergic to eggs!

Weeks later, I was taken to be formally prosecuted. It was only then that I learned what the charges were against me: “creating social media accounts to spread disinformation” and “spreading disinformation through social media”.

I was released, but I responded to the process. Luckily, NGOs helped me with the lawyers and also with paying the exorbitant fine I received [25 mil qataris, R$ 38,9 mil]. After more than two months, I landed in Kenya in mid-August.

The world Cup

In Qatar, fear is an important factor in silencing workers. They take advantage of the fact that you came from another country, from poverty.

Boycotting the World Cup would have helped at first, it would have been a message, but it’s too late. NGOs, activists and journalists are all out of Qatar. So if there was a boycott now, it would be the workers who stay in Qatar who would suffer the consequences.

At least the World Cup also brought a certain level of protection. If, with all the attention focused on Qatar, we still see all this happening, what would happen without the Cup? These violations would have happened, for sure. Maybe even worse things! The problem will be later…

It doesn’t matter that GSS Cestis is no longer working at the Westin Hotel. The Brazilian team needs to be proactive.

Honestly, she’s one of the greatest in the world, if not the greatest — my favorite player to date is Ronaldinho Gaucho, the greatest of all time, no matter what they say.

When I was in Qatar, I expected someone to care about us. But nobody did anything. If you are a player, understand the life of workers, talk to them, they will like to talk to you and show you the problems. Players can help report and change the narrative. The Brazilian team can change our history.