Pardoned Jan 6 Militia Member Attacks Doughnuts In Capitol Complex – Above the Law

What
is
it
that
they
say
about
criminals
returning
to
the
scene
of
the
crime?

That
would
be
Stewart
Rhodes,
the
white
supremacist
Oath
Keepers
militia
leader
who
led
an
attack
on
the
Capitol
four
years
ago
scarfing
doughnuts
inside
the
Longworth
House
Office
Building.
He’s
the
one
with
the
eye
patch,
since
he

dropped
a
loaded
handgun
while
teaching
a
gun
safety
course
and

shot
out
his
eye

in
1993.
The
other
dude
is
Ivan
Raiklin,
the

self-styled
“Secretary
of
Retribution”

for
Trump,
who
flogged
nonsensical
theories
about
Mike
Pence’s
ability
to
discard
electoral
votes
at
will.

Within
hours
of
taking
the
oath
of
office
Monday,
President
Trump
had
already

pardoned

almost
1,600
participants
in
the
Capitol
Riot,
many
of
whom
assaulted
police
officers.
Among
those
were
members
of
the
white
supremacist
Proud
Boys
gang,
several
of
whom
were
convicted
of
seditious
conspiracy.
But
Rhodes
and
his
fellow
Oath
Keepers
only
received
a
commutation.

Perhaps
this
is
because
the
Oath
Keepers

stashed

a
huge
cache
of
weapons
at
a
Comfort
Inn
in
Arlington
and
hoped
that
Trump
would
invoke
the
Insurrection
Act
as
they
marched
in
military
formation
on
the
Capitol.
Perhaps
it
was
because
they
were

uniquely
careless

about
their
communications.

At
his
trial
in
2022,
prosecutors

played
a
recording

of
Rhodes
saying,
“My
only
regret
is
they
should
have
brought
rifles.
We
should
have
brought
rifles.
We
could
have
fixed
it
right
then
and
there.
I’d
hang
fucking
Pelosi
from
the
lamppost.”

Rhodes
got
18
years,
but
walked
out
of
jail
on
Tuesday
and
made
a
beeline
for
Congress. According
to

The
Hill’s

Emily
Brooks,
Rhodes
and
Raiklin
were
there
to
lobby
Republican
Rep.
Gus
Bilirakis
for
a
pardon
for
Jeremy
Brown,
an
Oath
Keeper
from
Florida
currently
serving
an

87-month
sentence

for
possession
of
unregistered
guns
and
explosive
and
retention
of
a
government
document.
(He
seems
nice.
)

Rhodes’s
presence
at
the
scene
of
the
crime
did
not
go
unnoticed.
One
unnamed
staffer
called
it
“disrespectful”
and
urged
him
to
“please
tell
your
story
elsewhere.”
And
it
did
not
amuse
Judge
Amit
Mehta,
who
sentence
Rhodes
and
his
co-conspirators
and
previously

described

the
prospect
of
a
pardon
for
them
“frightening
to
anyone
who
cares
about
democracy
in
this
country.”

This
morning,
Judge
Mehta
issued
an

order

sua
sponte
amending
the
conditions
of
release
for
Rhodes
and
his
fellow
Oath
Keepers
Kelly
Meggs,
Kenneth
Harrelson,
Jessica
Watkins,
Roberto
Minuta,
Edward
Vallejo,
David
Moerchel,
and
Joseph
Hacket.
Because
their
sentences
were
commuted,
rather
than
pardoned,
they
remain
under
supervision
of
the
court.
And
so
Judge
Mehta
is
able
to
bar
them
from
entering
the
Capitol
complex
or
surrounding
area
without
permission
of
the
court.
Presumably
Trump
will
remedy
this
oversight
shortly.

In
the
meantime,
former
Capitol
Cop
Michael
Fanone
put
it
more
succinctly.

And,
lo!
Even
as
we
were
typing,
the
Justice
Department
was
hopping
to
the
defense
of
these
saintly
patriots.
In
a

motion
to
dismiss

the
terms
of
supervised
release,
the
government
demands
that
Judge
Mehta
rescind
his
order.

As
the
terms
of
supervised
release
and
probation
are
included
in
the
“sentences”
of
the
defendants,
the
Court
may
not
modify
the
terms
of
supervised
release;
the
term
is
no
longer
active
by
effect
of
the
Executive
Order.
See
United
States
v.
Haymond,
588
U.S.
634,
648
(2019)
(Supreme
Court
has
acknowledged
“that
an
accused’s
final
sentence
includes
any
supervised
release
sentence
he
may
receive”
and
therefore
“supervised
release
punishments
arise
from
and
are
treat[ed]
as
part
of
the
penalty
for
the
initial
offense”)
(cleaned
up)).

The
motion
was
signed
by
Ed
Martin,
the
interim
US
Attorney
for
DC.
Martin
is
a

conservative
activist

and
a
a
prominent
member
of
the
“Stop
the
Steal”
movement
who
gave
a
speech
at
the
Ellipse
on
January
6
and

tweeted

Like
Mardi
Gras
in
DC
today:
love,
faith
and
joy.
Ignore


#FakeNews”
at
2:57
p.m.,
after
rioters
had
breached
both
the
House
and
Senate
Chambers.





Liz
Dye
 lives
in
Baltimore
where
she
produces
the
Law
and
Chaos substack and podcast.

They Earn More Money, But Some Migrant Health Workers Say It’s Not Worth It


Illustration
by
Wynona
Mutisi
for
GPJ



Gamuchirai
Masiyiwa,
GPJ
Zimbabwe


This
story
was
originally
published
by



Global
Press
Journal.


HARARE,
ZIMBABWE

When
Tanya
moved
to
Ireland
for
care
work
in
2022,
she
was
certain
of
three
things:
Her
family
would
join
her
soon.
Her
husband
would
find
work.
And
her
children
would
attend
a
good
school.
Initially,
her
move
was
smooth.
Visas
and
permits
were
no
problem.
But
once
in
Ireland,
reality
proved
harsh
for
Tanya,
a
Zimbabwean
who
asked
Global
Press
Journal
to
use
her
middle
name
for
fear
of
jeopardizing
her
visa
status.


The
country’s
visa
restrictions
for
the
general
employment
permit
meant
that
for
her
husband
to
join
her,
she’d
have
to
earn
at
least
30,000
euros
annually
for
two
years
(about
31,500
United
States
dollars
per
year).
To
reunite
with
each
of
her
three
children,
she
would
need
to
bring
in
increasingly
more.


Tanya
earns
an
income
of
about
27,000
euros
per
year
(about
28,400
dollars).
She
spends
her
time
caring
for
children
with
autism,
but
her
own
children
live
without
her
in
South
Africa.


“I
struggle
to
sleep.
I
am
always
emotional.
I
have
become
too
sensitive
and
negative
towards
life,”
Tanya
says.


Her
story
is
common
in
a
global
economy
increasingly
reliant
on
migrant
workers,
who
now
constitute
4.9%
of
the
global
workforce.
The
demand
has
risen
steadily
since
2013
and
surged
during
the
pandemic.
But
as
demand
increases,
so
do
restrictions
on
visa
policies
regarding
family
members
who
want
to
move
to
be
with
their
spouses
or
parents
in
the
world’s
biggest
economies.


Health
care
workers
like
Tanya
in
particular
are
in
high
demand.
Approximately
15%
of
the
global
health
care
workforce
is
employed
outside
their
home
country
or
country
of
training.


The
situation
is
especially
pronounced
in
big
economies
like
the
United
Kingdom,
United
States
and
Australia,
where
labor
shortages
and
aging
populations
strain
health
care
systems.


On
the
supply
side,
it’s
countries
with
smaller
economies
like
Zimbabwe
that
are
among
the
main
exporters
of
talent,
especially
health
care
talent.
The
migration
of
health
workers
from
Zimbabwe
is
so
severe
that
in
2023,
the
World
Health
Organization
added
it
to
a
“red
list”
of
55
countries
from
which
international
recruitment
of
health
care
personnel
is
discouraged,
due
to
the
critically
low
numbers
of
health
workers
remaining
to
serve
their
home
populations.


Some
countries,
including
Switzerland,
the
UK,
Australia
and
Denmark,
relaxed
their
visa
requirements
during
the
pandemic
but
have
since
reverted
to
previous
policies,
says
Godfrey
Kanyenze,
director
of
the
Labour
and
Economic
Development
Research
Institute
of
Zimbabwe,
a
research
think
tank.


There
has
been
a
rollback
of
what
Kanyenze
calls
“sensible
arrangements”
that
had
enabled
migrant
workers
to
relocate
with
their
families.


In
one
such
reversal,
the
UK
implemented
new
measures
in
December
2023
to
curtail
migration
into
the
country,
which
then-Home
Secretary
of
State
James
Cleverly
described
as
“far
too
high.”


Among
the
changes
is
that
care
workers

who
were
in
such
high
demand
at
the
onset
of
the
pandemic
that
the
UK
had
to
introduce
a
special
visa
for
them
in
2022

can
no
longer
relocate
with
their
families.


The
policy
also
increased
the
salary
threshold

or
the
minimum
amount
of
money
one
must
earn
to
qualify
for
the
visa

for
all
migrant
workers
by
close
to
50%.
Now,
migrant
workers
need
to
earn
at
least
38,700
British
pounds
(about
49,000
dollars)
per
year
to
retain
their
visa
status.


In
most
cases,
low-skilled
workers
such
as
care
workers
earn
too
little
to
meet
these
income
requirements,
says
Hilda
Tinevimbo
Mahumucha,
senior
legal
consultant
with
Women
and
Law
in
Southern
Africa,
Zimbabwe,
a
gender
justice
organization.


In
2023,
Sweden,
a
major
migration
hub,
also
announced
new
restrictions
on
low-skilled
labor
migration
into
the
country.
Scheduled
to
take
effect
this
year,
migrant
workers
from
“third
world
countries”
will
be
required
to
earn
a
monthly
minimum
of
approximately
2,200
euros
(about
2,300
dollars)
to
obtain
a
work
permit,
and
even
higher
income
requirements
to
bring
family
members
to
join
them.


Receiving
countries
capitalize
on
the
skill
sets
of
migrant
workers
without
bearing
any
of
the
costs,
especially
the
cost
of
training
people,
says
Abel
Chikanda,
an
associate
professor
at
the
School
of
Earth,
Environment
and
Society
at
McMaster
University
in
Canada.


“[They]
are
essentially
benefitting
from
human
resource
that
they
did
not
contribute
towards,”
he
says.


For
example,
in
the
case
of
health
worker
migration,
annually,
Africa
loses
about
2
billion
dollars
invested
in
medical
training
when
its
health
workers
migrate
abroad.
Meanwhile,
destination
countries
enjoy
substantial
savings
by
bypassing
these
costs.


The
human
cost


In
the
end,
it
is
migrant
workers
and
their
families
who
pay
the
steepest
price,
each
in
their
own
way.


Senzeni
Chiutsi,
a
psychologist
based
in
Harare,
says
that
while
migration
allows
parents
a
chance
to
support
their
families
economically,
the
children
they
leave
behind
are
prone
to
stress
and
trauma.


A
2018
study
on
the
effects
of
migration
on
children
and
adolescents
left
behind
by
their
parents
noted
signs
of
depression
and
loneliness.
And
8
in
10
of
those
interviewed
reported
having
once
considered
suicide.


Already,
the
distance
between
Tanya
and
her
children
is
widening.
On
the
rare
occasions
she
visits
them,
her
9-year-old
son
finds
more
comfort
in
video
games,
while
her
two
girls
remain
behind
the
closed
doors
of
their
bedrooms.


“One
time
when
I
went
there,
my
second
child
said,
‘Mommy

I
don’t
even
know
[the
last
time]
I
was
hugged,’”
Tanya
says.


Although
she
stays
in
touch
through
phone
calls,
it
is
difficult
because
of
the
time
difference
and
her
working
hours.
By
the
time
she
is
home,
her
children
are
already
asleep.


The
emotional
cost
of
being
abroad
is
just
too
high,
she
says.


“One
of
my
friends
normally
jokes
about
how
we
were
given
the
wrong
information
coming
here,”
she
says.
“If
you’re
doing
well
in
Zimbabwe

I
don’t
see
a
need
of
coming
here.”


That’s
a
big
question
mark.
Most
people
move
because
their
governments
have
failed
to
keep
their
end
of
the
bargain
by
providing
workers
with
fair
conditions
such
as
adequate
pay,
says
Chikanda,
the
professor.


If
Tanya
were
employed
as
a
care
worker
in
Zimbabwe,
she
would
earn
an
annual
income
of
about
4,284
dollars

a
sixth
of
what
she
is
earning
abroad.


Even
so,
she’s
set
a
deadline
for
herself
of
this
year
to
return
to
her
family
if
they
can’t
join
her
in
Ireland.


“What
if
they’ll
be
broken
adults?”
she
says.
“It’s
not
like
I’m
going
to
be
rich,
to
be
honest.”


Gamuchirai
Masiyiwa
is
a
Global
Press
Journal
reporter
based
in
Harare,
Zimbabwe.


Global
Press
is
an
award-winning
international
news
publication
with
more
than
40
independent
news
bureaus
across
Africa,
Asia
and
Latin
America.

Post
published
in:

Featured

They Earn More Money, But Some Migrant Health Workers Say It’s Not Worth It


Illustration
by
Wynona
Mutisi
for
GPJ



Gamuchirai
Masiyiwa,
GPJ
Zimbabwe


This
story
was
originally
published
by



Global
Press
Journal.


HARARE,
ZIMBABWE

When
Tanya
moved
to
Ireland
for
care
work
in
2022,
she
was
certain
of
three
things:
Her
family
would
join
her
soon.
Her
husband
would
find
work.
And
her
children
would
attend
a
good
school.
Initially,
her
move
was
smooth.
Visas
and
permits
were
no
problem.
But
once
in
Ireland,
reality
proved
harsh
for
Tanya,
a
Zimbabwean
who
asked
Global
Press
Journal
to
use
her
middle
name
for
fear
of
jeopardizing
her
visa
status.


The
country’s
visa
restrictions
for
the
general
employment
permit
meant
that
for
her
husband
to
join
her,
she’d
have
to
earn
at
least
30,000
euros
annually
for
two
years
(about
31,500
United
States
dollars
per
year).
To
reunite
with
each
of
her
three
children,
she
would
need
to
bring
in
increasingly
more.


Tanya
earns
an
income
of
about
27,000
euros
per
year
(about
28,400
dollars).
She
spends
her
time
caring
for
children
with
autism,
but
her
own
children
live
without
her
in
South
Africa.


“I
struggle
to
sleep.
I
am
always
emotional.
I
have
become
too
sensitive
and
negative
towards
life,”
Tanya
says.


Her
story
is
common
in
a
global
economy
increasingly
reliant
on
migrant
workers,
who
now
constitute
4.9%
of
the
global
workforce.
The
demand
has
risen
steadily
since
2013
and
surged
during
the
pandemic.
But
as
demand
increases,
so
do
restrictions
on
visa
policies
regarding
family
members
who
want
to
move
to
be
with
their
spouses
or
parents
in
the
world’s
biggest
economies.


Health
care
workers
like
Tanya
in
particular
are
in
high
demand.
Approximately
15%
of
the
global
health
care
workforce
is
employed
outside
their
home
country
or
country
of
training.


The
situation
is
especially
pronounced
in
big
economies
like
the
United
Kingdom,
United
States
and
Australia,
where
labor
shortages
and
aging
populations
strain
health
care
systems.


On
the
supply
side,
it’s
countries
with
smaller
economies
like
Zimbabwe
that
are
among
the
main
exporters
of
talent,
especially
health
care
talent.
The
migration
of
health
workers
from
Zimbabwe
is
so
severe
that
in
2023,
the
World
Health
Organization
added
it
to
a
“red
list”
of
55
countries
from
which
international
recruitment
of
health
care
personnel
is
discouraged,
due
to
the
critically
low
numbers
of
health
workers
remaining
to
serve
their
home
populations.


Some
countries,
including
Switzerland,
the
UK,
Australia
and
Denmark,
relaxed
their
visa
requirements
during
the
pandemic
but
have
since
reverted
to
previous
policies,
says
Godfrey
Kanyenze,
director
of
the
Labour
and
Economic
Development
Research
Institute
of
Zimbabwe,
a
research
think
tank.


There
has
been
a
rollback
of
what
Kanyenze
calls
“sensible
arrangements”
that
had
enabled
migrant
workers
to
relocate
with
their
families.


In
one
such
reversal,
the
UK
implemented
new
measures
in
December
2023
to
curtail
migration
into
the
country,
which
then-Home
Secretary
of
State
James
Cleverly
described
as
“far
too
high.”


Among
the
changes
is
that
care
workers

who
were
in
such
high
demand
at
the
onset
of
the
pandemic
that
the
UK
had
to
introduce
a
special
visa
for
them
in
2022

can
no
longer
relocate
with
their
families.


The
policy
also
increased
the
salary
threshold

or
the
minimum
amount
of
money
one
must
earn
to
qualify
for
the
visa

for
all
migrant
workers
by
close
to
50%.
Now,
migrant
workers
need
to
earn
at
least
38,700
British
pounds
(about
49,000
dollars)
per
year
to
retain
their
visa
status.


In
most
cases,
low-skilled
workers
such
as
care
workers
earn
too
little
to
meet
these
income
requirements,
says
Hilda
Tinevimbo
Mahumucha,
senior
legal
consultant
with
Women
and
Law
in
Southern
Africa,
Zimbabwe,
a
gender
justice
organization.


In
2023,
Sweden,
a
major
migration
hub,
also
announced
new
restrictions
on
low-skilled
labor
migration
into
the
country.
Scheduled
to
take
effect
this
year,
migrant
workers
from
“third
world
countries”
will
be
required
to
earn
a
monthly
minimum
of
approximately
2,200
euros
(about
2,300
dollars)
to
obtain
a
work
permit,
and
even
higher
income
requirements
to
bring
family
members
to
join
them.


Receiving
countries
capitalize
on
the
skill
sets
of
migrant
workers
without
bearing
any
of
the
costs,
especially
the
cost
of
training
people,
says
Abel
Chikanda,
an
associate
professor
at
the
School
of
Earth,
Environment
and
Society
at
McMaster
University
in
Canada.


“[They]
are
essentially
benefitting
from
human
resource
that
they
did
not
contribute
towards,”
he
says.


For
example,
in
the
case
of
health
worker
migration,
annually,
Africa
loses
about
2
billion
dollars
invested
in
medical
training
when
its
health
workers
migrate
abroad.
Meanwhile,
destination
countries
enjoy
substantial
savings
by
bypassing
these
costs.


The
human
cost


In
the
end,
it
is
migrant
workers
and
their
families
who
pay
the
steepest
price,
each
in
their
own
way.


Senzeni
Chiutsi,
a
psychologist
based
in
Harare,
says
that
while
migration
allows
parents
a
chance
to
support
their
families
economically,
the
children
they
leave
behind
are
prone
to
stress
and
trauma.


A
2018
study
on
the
effects
of
migration
on
children
and
adolescents
left
behind
by
their
parents
noted
signs
of
depression
and
loneliness.
And
8
in
10
of
those
interviewed
reported
having
once
considered
suicide.


Already,
the
distance
between
Tanya
and
her
children
is
widening.
On
the
rare
occasions
she
visits
them,
her
9-year-old
son
finds
more
comfort
in
video
games,
while
her
two
girls
remain
behind
the
closed
doors
of
their
bedrooms.


“One
time
when
I
went
there,
my
second
child
said,
‘Mommy

I
don’t
even
know
[the
last
time]
I
was
hugged,’”
Tanya
says.


Although
she
stays
in
touch
through
phone
calls,
it
is
difficult
because
of
the
time
difference
and
her
working
hours.
By
the
time
she
is
home,
her
children
are
already
asleep.


The
emotional
cost
of
being
abroad
is
just
too
high,
she
says.


“One
of
my
friends
normally
jokes
about
how
we
were
given
the
wrong
information
coming
here,”
she
says.
“If
you’re
doing
well
in
Zimbabwe

I
don’t
see
a
need
of
coming
here.”


That’s
a
big
question
mark.
Most
people
move
because
their
governments
have
failed
to
keep
their
end
of
the
bargain
by
providing
workers
with
fair
conditions
such
as
adequate
pay,
says
Chikanda,
the
professor.


If
Tanya
were
employed
as
a
care
worker
in
Zimbabwe,
she
would
earn
an
annual
income
of
about
4,284
dollars

a
sixth
of
what
she
is
earning
abroad.


Even
so,
she’s
set
a
deadline
for
herself
of
this
year
to
return
to
her
family
if
they
can’t
join
her
in
Ireland.


“What
if
they’ll
be
broken
adults?”
she
says.
“It’s
not
like
I’m
going
to
be
rich,
to
be
honest.”


Gamuchirai
Masiyiwa
is
a
Global
Press
Journal
reporter
based
in
Harare,
Zimbabwe.


Global
Press
is
an
award-winning
international
news
publication
with
more
than
40
independent
news
bureaus
across
Africa,
Asia
and
Latin
America.

Post
published
in:

Featured

They Earn More Money, But Some Migrant Health Workers Say It’s Not Worth It


Illustration
by
Wynona
Mutisi
for
GPJ



Gamuchirai
Masiyiwa,
GPJ
Zimbabwe


This
story
was
originally
published
by



Global
Press
Journal.


HARARE,
ZIMBABWE

When
Tanya
moved
to
Ireland
for
care
work
in
2022,
she
was
certain
of
three
things:
Her
family
would
join
her
soon.
Her
husband
would
find
work.
And
her
children
would
attend
a
good
school.
Initially,
her
move
was
smooth.
Visas
and
permits
were
no
problem.
But
once
in
Ireland,
reality
proved
harsh
for
Tanya,
a
Zimbabwean
who
asked
Global
Press
Journal
to
use
her
middle
name
for
fear
of
jeopardizing
her
visa
status.


The
country’s
visa
restrictions
for
the
general
employment
permit
meant
that
for
her
husband
to
join
her,
she’d
have
to
earn
at
least
30,000
euros
annually
for
two
years
(about
31,500
United
States
dollars
per
year).
To
reunite
with
each
of
her
three
children,
she
would
need
to
bring
in
increasingly
more.


Tanya
earns
an
income
of
about
27,000
euros
per
year
(about
28,400
dollars).
She
spends
her
time
caring
for
children
with
autism,
but
her
own
children
live
without
her
in
South
Africa.


“I
struggle
to
sleep.
I
am
always
emotional.
I
have
become
too
sensitive
and
negative
towards
life,”
Tanya
says.


Her
story
is
common
in
a
global
economy
increasingly
reliant
on
migrant
workers,
who
now
constitute
4.9%
of
the
global
workforce.
The
demand
has
risen
steadily
since
2013
and
surged
during
the
pandemic.
But
as
demand
increases,
so
do
restrictions
on
visa
policies
regarding
family
members
who
want
to
move
to
be
with
their
spouses
or
parents
in
the
world’s
biggest
economies.


Health
care
workers
like
Tanya
in
particular
are
in
high
demand.
Approximately
15%
of
the
global
health
care
workforce
is
employed
outside
their
home
country
or
country
of
training.


The
situation
is
especially
pronounced
in
big
economies
like
the
United
Kingdom,
United
States
and
Australia,
where
labor
shortages
and
aging
populations
strain
health
care
systems.


On
the
supply
side,
it’s
countries
with
smaller
economies
like
Zimbabwe
that
are
among
the
main
exporters
of
talent,
especially
health
care
talent.
The
migration
of
health
workers
from
Zimbabwe
is
so
severe
that
in
2023,
the
World
Health
Organization
added
it
to
a
“red
list”
of
55
countries
from
which
international
recruitment
of
health
care
personnel
is
discouraged,
due
to
the
critically
low
numbers
of
health
workers
remaining
to
serve
their
home
populations.


Some
countries,
including
Switzerland,
the
UK,
Australia
and
Denmark,
relaxed
their
visa
requirements
during
the
pandemic
but
have
since
reverted
to
previous
policies,
says
Godfrey
Kanyenze,
director
of
the
Labour
and
Economic
Development
Research
Institute
of
Zimbabwe,
a
research
think
tank.


There
has
been
a
rollback
of
what
Kanyenze
calls
“sensible
arrangements”
that
had
enabled
migrant
workers
to
relocate
with
their
families.


In
one
such
reversal,
the
UK
implemented
new
measures
in
December
2023
to
curtail
migration
into
the
country,
which
then-Home
Secretary
of
State
James
Cleverly
described
as
“far
too
high.”


Among
the
changes
is
that
care
workers

who
were
in
such
high
demand
at
the
onset
of
the
pandemic
that
the
UK
had
to
introduce
a
special
visa
for
them
in
2022

can
no
longer
relocate
with
their
families.


The
policy
also
increased
the
salary
threshold

or
the
minimum
amount
of
money
one
must
earn
to
qualify
for
the
visa

for
all
migrant
workers
by
close
to
50%.
Now,
migrant
workers
need
to
earn
at
least
38,700
British
pounds
(about
49,000
dollars)
per
year
to
retain
their
visa
status.


In
most
cases,
low-skilled
workers
such
as
care
workers
earn
too
little
to
meet
these
income
requirements,
says
Hilda
Tinevimbo
Mahumucha,
senior
legal
consultant
with
Women
and
Law
in
Southern
Africa,
Zimbabwe,
a
gender
justice
organization.


In
2023,
Sweden,
a
major
migration
hub,
also
announced
new
restrictions
on
low-skilled
labor
migration
into
the
country.
Scheduled
to
take
effect
this
year,
migrant
workers
from
“third
world
countries”
will
be
required
to
earn
a
monthly
minimum
of
approximately
2,200
euros
(about
2,300
dollars)
to
obtain
a
work
permit,
and
even
higher
income
requirements
to
bring
family
members
to
join
them.


Receiving
countries
capitalize
on
the
skill
sets
of
migrant
workers
without
bearing
any
of
the
costs,
especially
the
cost
of
training
people,
says
Abel
Chikanda,
an
associate
professor
at
the
School
of
Earth,
Environment
and
Society
at
McMaster
University
in
Canada.


“[They]
are
essentially
benefitting
from
human
resource
that
they
did
not
contribute
towards,”
he
says.


For
example,
in
the
case
of
health
worker
migration,
annually,
Africa
loses
about
2
billion
dollars
invested
in
medical
training
when
its
health
workers
migrate
abroad.
Meanwhile,
destination
countries
enjoy
substantial
savings
by
bypassing
these
costs.


The
human
cost


In
the
end,
it
is
migrant
workers
and
their
families
who
pay
the
steepest
price,
each
in
their
own
way.


Senzeni
Chiutsi,
a
psychologist
based
in
Harare,
says
that
while
migration
allows
parents
a
chance
to
support
their
families
economically,
the
children
they
leave
behind
are
prone
to
stress
and
trauma.


A
2018
study
on
the
effects
of
migration
on
children
and
adolescents
left
behind
by
their
parents
noted
signs
of
depression
and
loneliness.
And
8
in
10
of
those
interviewed
reported
having
once
considered
suicide.


Already,
the
distance
between
Tanya
and
her
children
is
widening.
On
the
rare
occasions
she
visits
them,
her
9-year-old
son
finds
more
comfort
in
video
games,
while
her
two
girls
remain
behind
the
closed
doors
of
their
bedrooms.


“One
time
when
I
went
there,
my
second
child
said,
‘Mommy

I
don’t
even
know
[the
last
time]
I
was
hugged,’”
Tanya
says.


Although
she
stays
in
touch
through
phone
calls,
it
is
difficult
because
of
the
time
difference
and
her
working
hours.
By
the
time
she
is
home,
her
children
are
already
asleep.


The
emotional
cost
of
being
abroad
is
just
too
high,
she
says.


“One
of
my
friends
normally
jokes
about
how
we
were
given
the
wrong
information
coming
here,”
she
says.
“If
you’re
doing
well
in
Zimbabwe

I
don’t
see
a
need
of
coming
here.”


That’s
a
big
question
mark.
Most
people
move
because
their
governments
have
failed
to
keep
their
end
of
the
bargain
by
providing
workers
with
fair
conditions
such
as
adequate
pay,
says
Chikanda,
the
professor.


If
Tanya
were
employed
as
a
care
worker
in
Zimbabwe,
she
would
earn
an
annual
income
of
about
4,284
dollars

a
sixth
of
what
she
is
earning
abroad.


Even
so,
she’s
set
a
deadline
for
herself
of
this
year
to
return
to
her
family
if
they
can’t
join
her
in
Ireland.


“What
if
they’ll
be
broken
adults?”
she
says.
“It’s
not
like
I’m
going
to
be
rich,
to
be
honest.”


Gamuchirai
Masiyiwa
is
a
Global
Press
Journal
reporter
based
in
Harare,
Zimbabwe.


Global
Press
is
an
award-winning
international
news
publication
with
more
than
40
independent
news
bureaus
across
Africa,
Asia
and
Latin
America.

Post
published
in:

Featured

They Earn More Money, But Some Migrant Health Workers Say It’s Not Worth It


Illustration
by
Wynona
Mutisi
for
GPJ



Gamuchirai
Masiyiwa,
GPJ
Zimbabwe


This
story
was
originally
published
by



Global
Press
Journal.


HARARE,
ZIMBABWE

When
Tanya
moved
to
Ireland
for
care
work
in
2022,
she
was
certain
of
three
things:
Her
family
would
join
her
soon.
Her
husband
would
find
work.
And
her
children
would
attend
a
good
school.
Initially,
her
move
was
smooth.
Visas
and
permits
were
no
problem.
But
once
in
Ireland,
reality
proved
harsh
for
Tanya,
a
Zimbabwean
who
asked
Global
Press
Journal
to
use
her
middle
name
for
fear
of
jeopardizing
her
visa
status.


The
country’s
visa
restrictions
for
the
general
employment
permit
meant
that
for
her
husband
to
join
her,
she’d
have
to
earn
at
least
30,000
euros
annually
for
two
years
(about
31,500
United
States
dollars
per
year).
To
reunite
with
each
of
her
three
children,
she
would
need
to
bring
in
increasingly
more.


Tanya
earns
an
income
of
about
27,000
euros
per
year
(about
28,400
dollars).
She
spends
her
time
caring
for
children
with
autism,
but
her
own
children
live
without
her
in
South
Africa.


“I
struggle
to
sleep.
I
am
always
emotional.
I
have
become
too
sensitive
and
negative
towards
life,”
Tanya
says.


Her
story
is
common
in
a
global
economy
increasingly
reliant
on
migrant
workers,
who
now
constitute
4.9%
of
the
global
workforce.
The
demand
has
risen
steadily
since
2013
and
surged
during
the
pandemic.
But
as
demand
increases,
so
do
restrictions
on
visa
policies
regarding
family
members
who
want
to
move
to
be
with
their
spouses
or
parents
in
the
world’s
biggest
economies.


Health
care
workers
like
Tanya
in
particular
are
in
high
demand.
Approximately
15%
of
the
global
health
care
workforce
is
employed
outside
their
home
country
or
country
of
training.


The
situation
is
especially
pronounced
in
big
economies
like
the
United
Kingdom,
United
States
and
Australia,
where
labor
shortages
and
aging
populations
strain
health
care
systems.


On
the
supply
side,
it’s
countries
with
smaller
economies
like
Zimbabwe
that
are
among
the
main
exporters
of
talent,
especially
health
care
talent.
The
migration
of
health
workers
from
Zimbabwe
is
so
severe
that
in
2023,
the
World
Health
Organization
added
it
to
a
“red
list”
of
55
countries
from
which
international
recruitment
of
health
care
personnel
is
discouraged,
due
to
the
critically
low
numbers
of
health
workers
remaining
to
serve
their
home
populations.


Some
countries,
including
Switzerland,
the
UK,
Australia
and
Denmark,
relaxed
their
visa
requirements
during
the
pandemic
but
have
since
reverted
to
previous
policies,
says
Godfrey
Kanyenze,
director
of
the
Labour
and
Economic
Development
Research
Institute
of
Zimbabwe,
a
research
think
tank.


There
has
been
a
rollback
of
what
Kanyenze
calls
“sensible
arrangements”
that
had
enabled
migrant
workers
to
relocate
with
their
families.


In
one
such
reversal,
the
UK
implemented
new
measures
in
December
2023
to
curtail
migration
into
the
country,
which
then-Home
Secretary
of
State
James
Cleverly
described
as
“far
too
high.”


Among
the
changes
is
that
care
workers

who
were
in
such
high
demand
at
the
onset
of
the
pandemic
that
the
UK
had
to
introduce
a
special
visa
for
them
in
2022

can
no
longer
relocate
with
their
families.


The
policy
also
increased
the
salary
threshold

or
the
minimum
amount
of
money
one
must
earn
to
qualify
for
the
visa

for
all
migrant
workers
by
close
to
50%.
Now,
migrant
workers
need
to
earn
at
least
38,700
British
pounds
(about
49,000
dollars)
per
year
to
retain
their
visa
status.


In
most
cases,
low-skilled
workers
such
as
care
workers
earn
too
little
to
meet
these
income
requirements,
says
Hilda
Tinevimbo
Mahumucha,
senior
legal
consultant
with
Women
and
Law
in
Southern
Africa,
Zimbabwe,
a
gender
justice
organization.


In
2023,
Sweden,
a
major
migration
hub,
also
announced
new
restrictions
on
low-skilled
labor
migration
into
the
country.
Scheduled
to
take
effect
this
year,
migrant
workers
from
“third
world
countries”
will
be
required
to
earn
a
monthly
minimum
of
approximately
2,200
euros
(about
2,300
dollars)
to
obtain
a
work
permit,
and
even
higher
income
requirements
to
bring
family
members
to
join
them.


Receiving
countries
capitalize
on
the
skill
sets
of
migrant
workers
without
bearing
any
of
the
costs,
especially
the
cost
of
training
people,
says
Abel
Chikanda,
an
associate
professor
at
the
School
of
Earth,
Environment
and
Society
at
McMaster
University
in
Canada.


“[They]
are
essentially
benefitting
from
human
resource
that
they
did
not
contribute
towards,”
he
says.


For
example,
in
the
case
of
health
worker
migration,
annually,
Africa
loses
about
2
billion
dollars
invested
in
medical
training
when
its
health
workers
migrate
abroad.
Meanwhile,
destination
countries
enjoy
substantial
savings
by
bypassing
these
costs.


The
human
cost


In
the
end,
it
is
migrant
workers
and
their
families
who
pay
the
steepest
price,
each
in
their
own
way.


Senzeni
Chiutsi,
a
psychologist
based
in
Harare,
says
that
while
migration
allows
parents
a
chance
to
support
their
families
economically,
the
children
they
leave
behind
are
prone
to
stress
and
trauma.


A
2018
study
on
the
effects
of
migration
on
children
and
adolescents
left
behind
by
their
parents
noted
signs
of
depression
and
loneliness.
And
8
in
10
of
those
interviewed
reported
having
once
considered
suicide.


Already,
the
distance
between
Tanya
and
her
children
is
widening.
On
the
rare
occasions
she
visits
them,
her
9-year-old
son
finds
more
comfort
in
video
games,
while
her
two
girls
remain
behind
the
closed
doors
of
their
bedrooms.


“One
time
when
I
went
there,
my
second
child
said,
‘Mommy

I
don’t
even
know
[the
last
time]
I
was
hugged,’”
Tanya
says.


Although
she
stays
in
touch
through
phone
calls,
it
is
difficult
because
of
the
time
difference
and
her
working
hours.
By
the
time
she
is
home,
her
children
are
already
asleep.


The
emotional
cost
of
being
abroad
is
just
too
high,
she
says.


“One
of
my
friends
normally
jokes
about
how
we
were
given
the
wrong
information
coming
here,”
she
says.
“If
you’re
doing
well
in
Zimbabwe

I
don’t
see
a
need
of
coming
here.”


That’s
a
big
question
mark.
Most
people
move
because
their
governments
have
failed
to
keep
their
end
of
the
bargain
by
providing
workers
with
fair
conditions
such
as
adequate
pay,
says
Chikanda,
the
professor.


If
Tanya
were
employed
as
a
care
worker
in
Zimbabwe,
she
would
earn
an
annual
income
of
about
4,284
dollars

a
sixth
of
what
she
is
earning
abroad.


Even
so,
she’s
set
a
deadline
for
herself
of
this
year
to
return
to
her
family
if
they
can’t
join
her
in
Ireland.


“What
if
they’ll
be
broken
adults?”
she
says.
“It’s
not
like
I’m
going
to
be
rich,
to
be
honest.”


Gamuchirai
Masiyiwa
is
a
Global
Press
Journal
reporter
based
in
Harare,
Zimbabwe.


Global
Press
is
an
award-winning
international
news
publication
with
more
than
40
independent
news
bureaus
across
Africa,
Asia
and
Latin
America.

Post
published
in:

Featured

They Earn More Money, But Some Migrant Health Workers Say It’s Not Worth It


Illustration
by
Wynona
Mutisi
for
GPJ



Gamuchirai
Masiyiwa,
GPJ
Zimbabwe


This
story
was
originally
published
by



Global
Press
Journal.


HARARE,
ZIMBABWE

When
Tanya
moved
to
Ireland
for
care
work
in
2022,
she
was
certain
of
three
things:
Her
family
would
join
her
soon.
Her
husband
would
find
work.
And
her
children
would
attend
a
good
school.
Initially,
her
move
was
smooth.
Visas
and
permits
were
no
problem.
But
once
in
Ireland,
reality
proved
harsh
for
Tanya,
a
Zimbabwean
who
asked
Global
Press
Journal
to
use
her
middle
name
for
fear
of
jeopardizing
her
visa
status.


The
country’s
visa
restrictions
for
the
general
employment
permit
meant
that
for
her
husband
to
join
her,
she’d
have
to
earn
at
least
30,000
euros
annually
for
two
years
(about
31,500
United
States
dollars
per
year).
To
reunite
with
each
of
her
three
children,
she
would
need
to
bring
in
increasingly
more.


Tanya
earns
an
income
of
about
27,000
euros
per
year
(about
28,400
dollars).
She
spends
her
time
caring
for
children
with
autism,
but
her
own
children
live
without
her
in
South
Africa.


“I
struggle
to
sleep.
I
am
always
emotional.
I
have
become
too
sensitive
and
negative
towards
life,”
Tanya
says.


Her
story
is
common
in
a
global
economy
increasingly
reliant
on
migrant
workers,
who
now
constitute
4.9%
of
the
global
workforce.
The
demand
has
risen
steadily
since
2013
and
surged
during
the
pandemic.
But
as
demand
increases,
so
do
restrictions
on
visa
policies
regarding
family
members
who
want
to
move
to
be
with
their
spouses
or
parents
in
the
world’s
biggest
economies.


Health
care
workers
like
Tanya
in
particular
are
in
high
demand.
Approximately
15%
of
the
global
health
care
workforce
is
employed
outside
their
home
country
or
country
of
training.


The
situation
is
especially
pronounced
in
big
economies
like
the
United
Kingdom,
United
States
and
Australia,
where
labor
shortages
and
aging
populations
strain
health
care
systems.


On
the
supply
side,
it’s
countries
with
smaller
economies
like
Zimbabwe
that
are
among
the
main
exporters
of
talent,
especially
health
care
talent.
The
migration
of
health
workers
from
Zimbabwe
is
so
severe
that
in
2023,
the
World
Health
Organization
added
it
to
a
“red
list”
of
55
countries
from
which
international
recruitment
of
health
care
personnel
is
discouraged,
due
to
the
critically
low
numbers
of
health
workers
remaining
to
serve
their
home
populations.


Some
countries,
including
Switzerland,
the
UK,
Australia
and
Denmark,
relaxed
their
visa
requirements
during
the
pandemic
but
have
since
reverted
to
previous
policies,
says
Godfrey
Kanyenze,
director
of
the
Labour
and
Economic
Development
Research
Institute
of
Zimbabwe,
a
research
think
tank.


There
has
been
a
rollback
of
what
Kanyenze
calls
“sensible
arrangements”
that
had
enabled
migrant
workers
to
relocate
with
their
families.


In
one
such
reversal,
the
UK
implemented
new
measures
in
December
2023
to
curtail
migration
into
the
country,
which
then-Home
Secretary
of
State
James
Cleverly
described
as
“far
too
high.”


Among
the
changes
is
that
care
workers

who
were
in
such
high
demand
at
the
onset
of
the
pandemic
that
the
UK
had
to
introduce
a
special
visa
for
them
in
2022

can
no
longer
relocate
with
their
families.


The
policy
also
increased
the
salary
threshold

or
the
minimum
amount
of
money
one
must
earn
to
qualify
for
the
visa

for
all
migrant
workers
by
close
to
50%.
Now,
migrant
workers
need
to
earn
at
least
38,700
British
pounds
(about
49,000
dollars)
per
year
to
retain
their
visa
status.


In
most
cases,
low-skilled
workers
such
as
care
workers
earn
too
little
to
meet
these
income
requirements,
says
Hilda
Tinevimbo
Mahumucha,
senior
legal
consultant
with
Women
and
Law
in
Southern
Africa,
Zimbabwe,
a
gender
justice
organization.


In
2023,
Sweden,
a
major
migration
hub,
also
announced
new
restrictions
on
low-skilled
labor
migration
into
the
country.
Scheduled
to
take
effect
this
year,
migrant
workers
from
“third
world
countries”
will
be
required
to
earn
a
monthly
minimum
of
approximately
2,200
euros
(about
2,300
dollars)
to
obtain
a
work
permit,
and
even
higher
income
requirements
to
bring
family
members
to
join
them.


Receiving
countries
capitalize
on
the
skill
sets
of
migrant
workers
without
bearing
any
of
the
costs,
especially
the
cost
of
training
people,
says
Abel
Chikanda,
an
associate
professor
at
the
School
of
Earth,
Environment
and
Society
at
McMaster
University
in
Canada.


“[They]
are
essentially
benefitting
from
human
resource
that
they
did
not
contribute
towards,”
he
says.


For
example,
in
the
case
of
health
worker
migration,
annually,
Africa
loses
about
2
billion
dollars
invested
in
medical
training
when
its
health
workers
migrate
abroad.
Meanwhile,
destination
countries
enjoy
substantial
savings
by
bypassing
these
costs.


The
human
cost


In
the
end,
it
is
migrant
workers
and
their
families
who
pay
the
steepest
price,
each
in
their
own
way.


Senzeni
Chiutsi,
a
psychologist
based
in
Harare,
says
that
while
migration
allows
parents
a
chance
to
support
their
families
economically,
the
children
they
leave
behind
are
prone
to
stress
and
trauma.


A
2018
study
on
the
effects
of
migration
on
children
and
adolescents
left
behind
by
their
parents
noted
signs
of
depression
and
loneliness.
And
8
in
10
of
those
interviewed
reported
having
once
considered
suicide.


Already,
the
distance
between
Tanya
and
her
children
is
widening.
On
the
rare
occasions
she
visits
them,
her
9-year-old
son
finds
more
comfort
in
video
games,
while
her
two
girls
remain
behind
the
closed
doors
of
their
bedrooms.


“One
time
when
I
went
there,
my
second
child
said,
‘Mommy

I
don’t
even
know
[the
last
time]
I
was
hugged,’”
Tanya
says.


Although
she
stays
in
touch
through
phone
calls,
it
is
difficult
because
of
the
time
difference
and
her
working
hours.
By
the
time
she
is
home,
her
children
are
already
asleep.


The
emotional
cost
of
being
abroad
is
just
too
high,
she
says.


“One
of
my
friends
normally
jokes
about
how
we
were
given
the
wrong
information
coming
here,”
she
says.
“If
you’re
doing
well
in
Zimbabwe

I
don’t
see
a
need
of
coming
here.”


That’s
a
big
question
mark.
Most
people
move
because
their
governments
have
failed
to
keep
their
end
of
the
bargain
by
providing
workers
with
fair
conditions
such
as
adequate
pay,
says
Chikanda,
the
professor.


If
Tanya
were
employed
as
a
care
worker
in
Zimbabwe,
she
would
earn
an
annual
income
of
about
4,284
dollars

a
sixth
of
what
she
is
earning
abroad.


Even
so,
she’s
set
a
deadline
for
herself
of
this
year
to
return
to
her
family
if
they
can’t
join
her
in
Ireland.


“What
if
they’ll
be
broken
adults?”
she
says.
“It’s
not
like
I’m
going
to
be
rich,
to
be
honest.”


Gamuchirai
Masiyiwa
is
a
Global
Press
Journal
reporter
based
in
Harare,
Zimbabwe.


Global
Press
is
an
award-winning
international
news
publication
with
more
than
40
independent
news
bureaus
across
Africa,
Asia
and
Latin
America.

Post
published
in:

Featured

They Earn More Money, But Some Migrant Health Workers Say It’s Not Worth It


Illustration
by
Wynona
Mutisi
for
GPJ



Gamuchirai
Masiyiwa,
GPJ
Zimbabwe


This
story
was
originally
published
by



Global
Press
Journal.


HARARE,
ZIMBABWE

When
Tanya
moved
to
Ireland
for
care
work
in
2022,
she
was
certain
of
three
things:
Her
family
would
join
her
soon.
Her
husband
would
find
work.
And
her
children
would
attend
a
good
school.
Initially,
her
move
was
smooth.
Visas
and
permits
were
no
problem.
But
once
in
Ireland,
reality
proved
harsh
for
Tanya,
a
Zimbabwean
who
asked
Global
Press
Journal
to
use
her
middle
name
for
fear
of
jeopardizing
her
visa
status.


The
country’s
visa
restrictions
for
the
general
employment
permit
meant
that
for
her
husband
to
join
her,
she’d
have
to
earn
at
least
30,000
euros
annually
for
two
years
(about
31,500
United
States
dollars
per
year).
To
reunite
with
each
of
her
three
children,
she
would
need
to
bring
in
increasingly
more.


Tanya
earns
an
income
of
about
27,000
euros
per
year
(about
28,400
dollars).
She
spends
her
time
caring
for
children
with
autism,
but
her
own
children
live
without
her
in
South
Africa.


“I
struggle
to
sleep.
I
am
always
emotional.
I
have
become
too
sensitive
and
negative
towards
life,”
Tanya
says.


Her
story
is
common
in
a
global
economy
increasingly
reliant
on
migrant
workers,
who
now
constitute
4.9%
of
the
global
workforce.
The
demand
has
risen
steadily
since
2013
and
surged
during
the
pandemic.
But
as
demand
increases,
so
do
restrictions
on
visa
policies
regarding
family
members
who
want
to
move
to
be
with
their
spouses
or
parents
in
the
world’s
biggest
economies.


Health
care
workers
like
Tanya
in
particular
are
in
high
demand.
Approximately
15%
of
the
global
health
care
workforce
is
employed
outside
their
home
country
or
country
of
training.


The
situation
is
especially
pronounced
in
big
economies
like
the
United
Kingdom,
United
States
and
Australia,
where
labor
shortages
and
aging
populations
strain
health
care
systems.


On
the
supply
side,
it’s
countries
with
smaller
economies
like
Zimbabwe
that
are
among
the
main
exporters
of
talent,
especially
health
care
talent.
The
migration
of
health
workers
from
Zimbabwe
is
so
severe
that
in
2023,
the
World
Health
Organization
added
it
to
a
“red
list”
of
55
countries
from
which
international
recruitment
of
health
care
personnel
is
discouraged,
due
to
the
critically
low
numbers
of
health
workers
remaining
to
serve
their
home
populations.


Some
countries,
including
Switzerland,
the
UK,
Australia
and
Denmark,
relaxed
their
visa
requirements
during
the
pandemic
but
have
since
reverted
to
previous
policies,
says
Godfrey
Kanyenze,
director
of
the
Labour
and
Economic
Development
Research
Institute
of
Zimbabwe,
a
research
think
tank.


There
has
been
a
rollback
of
what
Kanyenze
calls
“sensible
arrangements”
that
had
enabled
migrant
workers
to
relocate
with
their
families.


In
one
such
reversal,
the
UK
implemented
new
measures
in
December
2023
to
curtail
migration
into
the
country,
which
then-Home
Secretary
of
State
James
Cleverly
described
as
“far
too
high.”


Among
the
changes
is
that
care
workers

who
were
in
such
high
demand
at
the
onset
of
the
pandemic
that
the
UK
had
to
introduce
a
special
visa
for
them
in
2022

can
no
longer
relocate
with
their
families.


The
policy
also
increased
the
salary
threshold

or
the
minimum
amount
of
money
one
must
earn
to
qualify
for
the
visa

for
all
migrant
workers
by
close
to
50%.
Now,
migrant
workers
need
to
earn
at
least
38,700
British
pounds
(about
49,000
dollars)
per
year
to
retain
their
visa
status.


In
most
cases,
low-skilled
workers
such
as
care
workers
earn
too
little
to
meet
these
income
requirements,
says
Hilda
Tinevimbo
Mahumucha,
senior
legal
consultant
with
Women
and
Law
in
Southern
Africa,
Zimbabwe,
a
gender
justice
organization.


In
2023,
Sweden,
a
major
migration
hub,
also
announced
new
restrictions
on
low-skilled
labor
migration
into
the
country.
Scheduled
to
take
effect
this
year,
migrant
workers
from
“third
world
countries”
will
be
required
to
earn
a
monthly
minimum
of
approximately
2,200
euros
(about
2,300
dollars)
to
obtain
a
work
permit,
and
even
higher
income
requirements
to
bring
family
members
to
join
them.


Receiving
countries
capitalize
on
the
skill
sets
of
migrant
workers
without
bearing
any
of
the
costs,
especially
the
cost
of
training
people,
says
Abel
Chikanda,
an
associate
professor
at
the
School
of
Earth,
Environment
and
Society
at
McMaster
University
in
Canada.


“[They]
are
essentially
benefitting
from
human
resource
that
they
did
not
contribute
towards,”
he
says.


For
example,
in
the
case
of
health
worker
migration,
annually,
Africa
loses
about
2
billion
dollars
invested
in
medical
training
when
its
health
workers
migrate
abroad.
Meanwhile,
destination
countries
enjoy
substantial
savings
by
bypassing
these
costs.


The
human
cost


In
the
end,
it
is
migrant
workers
and
their
families
who
pay
the
steepest
price,
each
in
their
own
way.


Senzeni
Chiutsi,
a
psychologist
based
in
Harare,
says
that
while
migration
allows
parents
a
chance
to
support
their
families
economically,
the
children
they
leave
behind
are
prone
to
stress
and
trauma.


A
2018
study
on
the
effects
of
migration
on
children
and
adolescents
left
behind
by
their
parents
noted
signs
of
depression
and
loneliness.
And
8
in
10
of
those
interviewed
reported
having
once
considered
suicide.


Already,
the
distance
between
Tanya
and
her
children
is
widening.
On
the
rare
occasions
she
visits
them,
her
9-year-old
son
finds
more
comfort
in
video
games,
while
her
two
girls
remain
behind
the
closed
doors
of
their
bedrooms.


“One
time
when
I
went
there,
my
second
child
said,
‘Mommy

I
don’t
even
know
[the
last
time]
I
was
hugged,’”
Tanya
says.


Although
she
stays
in
touch
through
phone
calls,
it
is
difficult
because
of
the
time
difference
and
her
working
hours.
By
the
time
she
is
home,
her
children
are
already
asleep.


The
emotional
cost
of
being
abroad
is
just
too
high,
she
says.


“One
of
my
friends
normally
jokes
about
how
we
were
given
the
wrong
information
coming
here,”
she
says.
“If
you’re
doing
well
in
Zimbabwe

I
don’t
see
a
need
of
coming
here.”


That’s
a
big
question
mark.
Most
people
move
because
their
governments
have
failed
to
keep
their
end
of
the
bargain
by
providing
workers
with
fair
conditions
such
as
adequate
pay,
says
Chikanda,
the
professor.


If
Tanya
were
employed
as
a
care
worker
in
Zimbabwe,
she
would
earn
an
annual
income
of
about
4,284
dollars

a
sixth
of
what
she
is
earning
abroad.


Even
so,
she’s
set
a
deadline
for
herself
of
this
year
to
return
to
her
family
if
they
can’t
join
her
in
Ireland.


“What
if
they’ll
be
broken
adults?”
she
says.
“It’s
not
like
I’m
going
to
be
rich,
to
be
honest.”


Gamuchirai
Masiyiwa
is
a
Global
Press
Journal
reporter
based
in
Harare,
Zimbabwe.


Global
Press
is
an
award-winning
international
news
publication
with
more
than
40
independent
news
bureaus
across
Africa,
Asia
and
Latin
America.

Post
published
in:

Featured

They Earn More Money, But Some Migrant Health Workers Say It’s Not Worth It


Illustration
by
Wynona
Mutisi
for
GPJ



Gamuchirai
Masiyiwa,
GPJ
Zimbabwe


This
story
was
originally
published
by



Global
Press
Journal.


HARARE,
ZIMBABWE

When
Tanya
moved
to
Ireland
for
care
work
in
2022,
she
was
certain
of
three
things:
Her
family
would
join
her
soon.
Her
husband
would
find
work.
And
her
children
would
attend
a
good
school.
Initially,
her
move
was
smooth.
Visas
and
permits
were
no
problem.
But
once
in
Ireland,
reality
proved
harsh
for
Tanya,
a
Zimbabwean
who
asked
Global
Press
Journal
to
use
her
middle
name
for
fear
of
jeopardizing
her
visa
status.


The
country’s
visa
restrictions
for
the
general
employment
permit
meant
that
for
her
husband
to
join
her,
she’d
have
to
earn
at
least
30,000
euros
annually
for
two
years
(about
31,500
United
States
dollars
per
year).
To
reunite
with
each
of
her
three
children,
she
would
need
to
bring
in
increasingly
more.


Tanya
earns
an
income
of
about
27,000
euros
per
year
(about
28,400
dollars).
She
spends
her
time
caring
for
children
with
autism,
but
her
own
children
live
without
her
in
South
Africa.


“I
struggle
to
sleep.
I
am
always
emotional.
I
have
become
too
sensitive
and
negative
towards
life,”
Tanya
says.


Her
story
is
common
in
a
global
economy
increasingly
reliant
on
migrant
workers,
who
now
constitute
4.9%
of
the
global
workforce.
The
demand
has
risen
steadily
since
2013
and
surged
during
the
pandemic.
But
as
demand
increases,
so
do
restrictions
on
visa
policies
regarding
family
members
who
want
to
move
to
be
with
their
spouses
or
parents
in
the
world’s
biggest
economies.


Health
care
workers
like
Tanya
in
particular
are
in
high
demand.
Approximately
15%
of
the
global
health
care
workforce
is
employed
outside
their
home
country
or
country
of
training.


The
situation
is
especially
pronounced
in
big
economies
like
the
United
Kingdom,
United
States
and
Australia,
where
labor
shortages
and
aging
populations
strain
health
care
systems.


On
the
supply
side,
it’s
countries
with
smaller
economies
like
Zimbabwe
that
are
among
the
main
exporters
of
talent,
especially
health
care
talent.
The
migration
of
health
workers
from
Zimbabwe
is
so
severe
that
in
2023,
the
World
Health
Organization
added
it
to
a
“red
list”
of
55
countries
from
which
international
recruitment
of
health
care
personnel
is
discouraged,
due
to
the
critically
low
numbers
of
health
workers
remaining
to
serve
their
home
populations.


Some
countries,
including
Switzerland,
the
UK,
Australia
and
Denmark,
relaxed
their
visa
requirements
during
the
pandemic
but
have
since
reverted
to
previous
policies,
says
Godfrey
Kanyenze,
director
of
the
Labour
and
Economic
Development
Research
Institute
of
Zimbabwe,
a
research
think
tank.


There
has
been
a
rollback
of
what
Kanyenze
calls
“sensible
arrangements”
that
had
enabled
migrant
workers
to
relocate
with
their
families.


In
one
such
reversal,
the
UK
implemented
new
measures
in
December
2023
to
curtail
migration
into
the
country,
which
then-Home
Secretary
of
State
James
Cleverly
described
as
“far
too
high.”


Among
the
changes
is
that
care
workers

who
were
in
such
high
demand
at
the
onset
of
the
pandemic
that
the
UK
had
to
introduce
a
special
visa
for
them
in
2022

can
no
longer
relocate
with
their
families.


The
policy
also
increased
the
salary
threshold

or
the
minimum
amount
of
money
one
must
earn
to
qualify
for
the
visa

for
all
migrant
workers
by
close
to
50%.
Now,
migrant
workers
need
to
earn
at
least
38,700
British
pounds
(about
49,000
dollars)
per
year
to
retain
their
visa
status.


In
most
cases,
low-skilled
workers
such
as
care
workers
earn
too
little
to
meet
these
income
requirements,
says
Hilda
Tinevimbo
Mahumucha,
senior
legal
consultant
with
Women
and
Law
in
Southern
Africa,
Zimbabwe,
a
gender
justice
organization.


In
2023,
Sweden,
a
major
migration
hub,
also
announced
new
restrictions
on
low-skilled
labor
migration
into
the
country.
Scheduled
to
take
effect
this
year,
migrant
workers
from
“third
world
countries”
will
be
required
to
earn
a
monthly
minimum
of
approximately
2,200
euros
(about
2,300
dollars)
to
obtain
a
work
permit,
and
even
higher
income
requirements
to
bring
family
members
to
join
them.


Receiving
countries
capitalize
on
the
skill
sets
of
migrant
workers
without
bearing
any
of
the
costs,
especially
the
cost
of
training
people,
says
Abel
Chikanda,
an
associate
professor
at
the
School
of
Earth,
Environment
and
Society
at
McMaster
University
in
Canada.


“[They]
are
essentially
benefitting
from
human
resource
that
they
did
not
contribute
towards,”
he
says.


For
example,
in
the
case
of
health
worker
migration,
annually,
Africa
loses
about
2
billion
dollars
invested
in
medical
training
when
its
health
workers
migrate
abroad.
Meanwhile,
destination
countries
enjoy
substantial
savings
by
bypassing
these
costs.


The
human
cost


In
the
end,
it
is
migrant
workers
and
their
families
who
pay
the
steepest
price,
each
in
their
own
way.


Senzeni
Chiutsi,
a
psychologist
based
in
Harare,
says
that
while
migration
allows
parents
a
chance
to
support
their
families
economically,
the
children
they
leave
behind
are
prone
to
stress
and
trauma.


A
2018
study
on
the
effects
of
migration
on
children
and
adolescents
left
behind
by
their
parents
noted
signs
of
depression
and
loneliness.
And
8
in
10
of
those
interviewed
reported
having
once
considered
suicide.


Already,
the
distance
between
Tanya
and
her
children
is
widening.
On
the
rare
occasions
she
visits
them,
her
9-year-old
son
finds
more
comfort
in
video
games,
while
her
two
girls
remain
behind
the
closed
doors
of
their
bedrooms.


“One
time
when
I
went
there,
my
second
child
said,
‘Mommy

I
don’t
even
know
[the
last
time]
I
was
hugged,’”
Tanya
says.


Although
she
stays
in
touch
through
phone
calls,
it
is
difficult
because
of
the
time
difference
and
her
working
hours.
By
the
time
she
is
home,
her
children
are
already
asleep.


The
emotional
cost
of
being
abroad
is
just
too
high,
she
says.


“One
of
my
friends
normally
jokes
about
how
we
were
given
the
wrong
information
coming
here,”
she
says.
“If
you’re
doing
well
in
Zimbabwe

I
don’t
see
a
need
of
coming
here.”


That’s
a
big
question
mark.
Most
people
move
because
their
governments
have
failed
to
keep
their
end
of
the
bargain
by
providing
workers
with
fair
conditions
such
as
adequate
pay,
says
Chikanda,
the
professor.


If
Tanya
were
employed
as
a
care
worker
in
Zimbabwe,
she
would
earn
an
annual
income
of
about
4,284
dollars

a
sixth
of
what
she
is
earning
abroad.


Even
so,
she’s
set
a
deadline
for
herself
of
this
year
to
return
to
her
family
if
they
can’t
join
her
in
Ireland.


“What
if
they’ll
be
broken
adults?”
she
says.
“It’s
not
like
I’m
going
to
be
rich,
to
be
honest.”


Gamuchirai
Masiyiwa
is
a
Global
Press
Journal
reporter
based
in
Harare,
Zimbabwe.


Global
Press
is
an
award-winning
international
news
publication
with
more
than
40
independent
news
bureaus
across
Africa,
Asia
and
Latin
America.

Post
published
in:

Featured

They Earn More Money, But Some Migrant Health Workers Say It’s Not Worth It


Illustration
by
Wynona
Mutisi
for
GPJ



Gamuchirai
Masiyiwa,
GPJ
Zimbabwe


This
story
was
originally
published
by



Global
Press
Journal.


HARARE,
ZIMBABWE

When
Tanya
moved
to
Ireland
for
care
work
in
2022,
she
was
certain
of
three
things:
Her
family
would
join
her
soon.
Her
husband
would
find
work.
And
her
children
would
attend
a
good
school.
Initially,
her
move
was
smooth.
Visas
and
permits
were
no
problem.
But
once
in
Ireland,
reality
proved
harsh
for
Tanya,
a
Zimbabwean
who
asked
Global
Press
Journal
to
use
her
middle
name
for
fear
of
jeopardizing
her
visa
status.


The
country’s
visa
restrictions
for
the
general
employment
permit
meant
that
for
her
husband
to
join
her,
she’d
have
to
earn
at
least
30,000
euros
annually
for
two
years
(about
31,500
United
States
dollars
per
year).
To
reunite
with
each
of
her
three
children,
she
would
need
to
bring
in
increasingly
more.


Tanya
earns
an
income
of
about
27,000
euros
per
year
(about
28,400
dollars).
She
spends
her
time
caring
for
children
with
autism,
but
her
own
children
live
without
her
in
South
Africa.


“I
struggle
to
sleep.
I
am
always
emotional.
I
have
become
too
sensitive
and
negative
towards
life,”
Tanya
says.


Her
story
is
common
in
a
global
economy
increasingly
reliant
on
migrant
workers,
who
now
constitute
4.9%
of
the
global
workforce.
The
demand
has
risen
steadily
since
2013
and
surged
during
the
pandemic.
But
as
demand
increases,
so
do
restrictions
on
visa
policies
regarding
family
members
who
want
to
move
to
be
with
their
spouses
or
parents
in
the
world’s
biggest
economies.


Health
care
workers
like
Tanya
in
particular
are
in
high
demand.
Approximately
15%
of
the
global
health
care
workforce
is
employed
outside
their
home
country
or
country
of
training.


The
situation
is
especially
pronounced
in
big
economies
like
the
United
Kingdom,
United
States
and
Australia,
where
labor
shortages
and
aging
populations
strain
health
care
systems.


On
the
supply
side,
it’s
countries
with
smaller
economies
like
Zimbabwe
that
are
among
the
main
exporters
of
talent,
especially
health
care
talent.
The
migration
of
health
workers
from
Zimbabwe
is
so
severe
that
in
2023,
the
World
Health
Organization
added
it
to
a
“red
list”
of
55
countries
from
which
international
recruitment
of
health
care
personnel
is
discouraged,
due
to
the
critically
low
numbers
of
health
workers
remaining
to
serve
their
home
populations.


Some
countries,
including
Switzerland,
the
UK,
Australia
and
Denmark,
relaxed
their
visa
requirements
during
the
pandemic
but
have
since
reverted
to
previous
policies,
says
Godfrey
Kanyenze,
director
of
the
Labour
and
Economic
Development
Research
Institute
of
Zimbabwe,
a
research
think
tank.


There
has
been
a
rollback
of
what
Kanyenze
calls
“sensible
arrangements”
that
had
enabled
migrant
workers
to
relocate
with
their
families.


In
one
such
reversal,
the
UK
implemented
new
measures
in
December
2023
to
curtail
migration
into
the
country,
which
then-Home
Secretary
of
State
James
Cleverly
described
as
“far
too
high.”


Among
the
changes
is
that
care
workers

who
were
in
such
high
demand
at
the
onset
of
the
pandemic
that
the
UK
had
to
introduce
a
special
visa
for
them
in
2022

can
no
longer
relocate
with
their
families.


The
policy
also
increased
the
salary
threshold

or
the
minimum
amount
of
money
one
must
earn
to
qualify
for
the
visa

for
all
migrant
workers
by
close
to
50%.
Now,
migrant
workers
need
to
earn
at
least
38,700
British
pounds
(about
49,000
dollars)
per
year
to
retain
their
visa
status.


In
most
cases,
low-skilled
workers
such
as
care
workers
earn
too
little
to
meet
these
income
requirements,
says
Hilda
Tinevimbo
Mahumucha,
senior
legal
consultant
with
Women
and
Law
in
Southern
Africa,
Zimbabwe,
a
gender
justice
organization.


In
2023,
Sweden,
a
major
migration
hub,
also
announced
new
restrictions
on
low-skilled
labor
migration
into
the
country.
Scheduled
to
take
effect
this
year,
migrant
workers
from
“third
world
countries”
will
be
required
to
earn
a
monthly
minimum
of
approximately
2,200
euros
(about
2,300
dollars)
to
obtain
a
work
permit,
and
even
higher
income
requirements
to
bring
family
members
to
join
them.


Receiving
countries
capitalize
on
the
skill
sets
of
migrant
workers
without
bearing
any
of
the
costs,
especially
the
cost
of
training
people,
says
Abel
Chikanda,
an
associate
professor
at
the
School
of
Earth,
Environment
and
Society
at
McMaster
University
in
Canada.


“[They]
are
essentially
benefitting
from
human
resource
that
they
did
not
contribute
towards,”
he
says.


For
example,
in
the
case
of
health
worker
migration,
annually,
Africa
loses
about
2
billion
dollars
invested
in
medical
training
when
its
health
workers
migrate
abroad.
Meanwhile,
destination
countries
enjoy
substantial
savings
by
bypassing
these
costs.


The
human
cost


In
the
end,
it
is
migrant
workers
and
their
families
who
pay
the
steepest
price,
each
in
their
own
way.


Senzeni
Chiutsi,
a
psychologist
based
in
Harare,
says
that
while
migration
allows
parents
a
chance
to
support
their
families
economically,
the
children
they
leave
behind
are
prone
to
stress
and
trauma.


A
2018
study
on
the
effects
of
migration
on
children
and
adolescents
left
behind
by
their
parents
noted
signs
of
depression
and
loneliness.
And
8
in
10
of
those
interviewed
reported
having
once
considered
suicide.


Already,
the
distance
between
Tanya
and
her
children
is
widening.
On
the
rare
occasions
she
visits
them,
her
9-year-old
son
finds
more
comfort
in
video
games,
while
her
two
girls
remain
behind
the
closed
doors
of
their
bedrooms.


“One
time
when
I
went
there,
my
second
child
said,
‘Mommy

I
don’t
even
know
[the
last
time]
I
was
hugged,’”
Tanya
says.


Although
she
stays
in
touch
through
phone
calls,
it
is
difficult
because
of
the
time
difference
and
her
working
hours.
By
the
time
she
is
home,
her
children
are
already
asleep.


The
emotional
cost
of
being
abroad
is
just
too
high,
she
says.


“One
of
my
friends
normally
jokes
about
how
we
were
given
the
wrong
information
coming
here,”
she
says.
“If
you’re
doing
well
in
Zimbabwe

I
don’t
see
a
need
of
coming
here.”


That’s
a
big
question
mark.
Most
people
move
because
their
governments
have
failed
to
keep
their
end
of
the
bargain
by
providing
workers
with
fair
conditions
such
as
adequate
pay,
says
Chikanda,
the
professor.


If
Tanya
were
employed
as
a
care
worker
in
Zimbabwe,
she
would
earn
an
annual
income
of
about
4,284
dollars

a
sixth
of
what
she
is
earning
abroad.


Even
so,
she’s
set
a
deadline
for
herself
of
this
year
to
return
to
her
family
if
they
can’t
join
her
in
Ireland.


“What
if
they’ll
be
broken
adults?”
she
says.
“It’s
not
like
I’m
going
to
be
rich,
to
be
honest.”


Gamuchirai
Masiyiwa
is
a
Global
Press
Journal
reporter
based
in
Harare,
Zimbabwe.


Global
Press
is
an
award-winning
international
news
publication
with
more
than
40
independent
news
bureaus
across
Africa,
Asia
and
Latin
America.

Post
published
in:

Featured

They Earn More Money, But Some Migrant Health Workers Say It’s Not Worth It


Illustration
by
Wynona
Mutisi
for
GPJ



Gamuchirai
Masiyiwa,
GPJ
Zimbabwe


This
story
was
originally
published
by



Global
Press
Journal.


HARARE,
ZIMBABWE

When
Tanya
moved
to
Ireland
for
care
work
in
2022,
she
was
certain
of
three
things:
Her
family
would
join
her
soon.
Her
husband
would
find
work.
And
her
children
would
attend
a
good
school.
Initially,
her
move
was
smooth.
Visas
and
permits
were
no
problem.
But
once
in
Ireland,
reality
proved
harsh
for
Tanya,
a
Zimbabwean
who
asked
Global
Press
Journal
to
use
her
middle
name
for
fear
of
jeopardizing
her
visa
status.


The
country’s
visa
restrictions
for
the
general
employment
permit
meant
that
for
her
husband
to
join
her,
she’d
have
to
earn
at
least
30,000
euros
annually
for
two
years
(about
31,500
United
States
dollars
per
year).
To
reunite
with
each
of
her
three
children,
she
would
need
to
bring
in
increasingly
more.


Tanya
earns
an
income
of
about
27,000
euros
per
year
(about
28,400
dollars).
She
spends
her
time
caring
for
children
with
autism,
but
her
own
children
live
without
her
in
South
Africa.


“I
struggle
to
sleep.
I
am
always
emotional.
I
have
become
too
sensitive
and
negative
towards
life,”
Tanya
says.


Her
story
is
common
in
a
global
economy
increasingly
reliant
on
migrant
workers,
who
now
constitute
4.9%
of
the
global
workforce.
The
demand
has
risen
steadily
since
2013
and
surged
during
the
pandemic.
But
as
demand
increases,
so
do
restrictions
on
visa
policies
regarding
family
members
who
want
to
move
to
be
with
their
spouses
or
parents
in
the
world’s
biggest
economies.


Health
care
workers
like
Tanya
in
particular
are
in
high
demand.
Approximately
15%
of
the
global
health
care
workforce
is
employed
outside
their
home
country
or
country
of
training.


The
situation
is
especially
pronounced
in
big
economies
like
the
United
Kingdom,
United
States
and
Australia,
where
labor
shortages
and
aging
populations
strain
health
care
systems.


On
the
supply
side,
it’s
countries
with
smaller
economies
like
Zimbabwe
that
are
among
the
main
exporters
of
talent,
especially
health
care
talent.
The
migration
of
health
workers
from
Zimbabwe
is
so
severe
that
in
2023,
the
World
Health
Organization
added
it
to
a
“red
list”
of
55
countries
from
which
international
recruitment
of
health
care
personnel
is
discouraged,
due
to
the
critically
low
numbers
of
health
workers
remaining
to
serve
their
home
populations.


Some
countries,
including
Switzerland,
the
UK,
Australia
and
Denmark,
relaxed
their
visa
requirements
during
the
pandemic
but
have
since
reverted
to
previous
policies,
says
Godfrey
Kanyenze,
director
of
the
Labour
and
Economic
Development
Research
Institute
of
Zimbabwe,
a
research
think
tank.


There
has
been
a
rollback
of
what
Kanyenze
calls
“sensible
arrangements”
that
had
enabled
migrant
workers
to
relocate
with
their
families.


In
one
such
reversal,
the
UK
implemented
new
measures
in
December
2023
to
curtail
migration
into
the
country,
which
then-Home
Secretary
of
State
James
Cleverly
described
as
“far
too
high.”


Among
the
changes
is
that
care
workers

who
were
in
such
high
demand
at
the
onset
of
the
pandemic
that
the
UK
had
to
introduce
a
special
visa
for
them
in
2022

can
no
longer
relocate
with
their
families.


The
policy
also
increased
the
salary
threshold

or
the
minimum
amount
of
money
one
must
earn
to
qualify
for
the
visa

for
all
migrant
workers
by
close
to
50%.
Now,
migrant
workers
need
to
earn
at
least
38,700
British
pounds
(about
49,000
dollars)
per
year
to
retain
their
visa
status.


In
most
cases,
low-skilled
workers
such
as
care
workers
earn
too
little
to
meet
these
income
requirements,
says
Hilda
Tinevimbo
Mahumucha,
senior
legal
consultant
with
Women
and
Law
in
Southern
Africa,
Zimbabwe,
a
gender
justice
organization.


In
2023,
Sweden,
a
major
migration
hub,
also
announced
new
restrictions
on
low-skilled
labor
migration
into
the
country.
Scheduled
to
take
effect
this
year,
migrant
workers
from
“third
world
countries”
will
be
required
to
earn
a
monthly
minimum
of
approximately
2,200
euros
(about
2,300
dollars)
to
obtain
a
work
permit,
and
even
higher
income
requirements
to
bring
family
members
to
join
them.


Receiving
countries
capitalize
on
the
skill
sets
of
migrant
workers
without
bearing
any
of
the
costs,
especially
the
cost
of
training
people,
says
Abel
Chikanda,
an
associate
professor
at
the
School
of
Earth,
Environment
and
Society
at
McMaster
University
in
Canada.


“[They]
are
essentially
benefitting
from
human
resource
that
they
did
not
contribute
towards,”
he
says.


For
example,
in
the
case
of
health
worker
migration,
annually,
Africa
loses
about
2
billion
dollars
invested
in
medical
training
when
its
health
workers
migrate
abroad.
Meanwhile,
destination
countries
enjoy
substantial
savings
by
bypassing
these
costs.


The
human
cost


In
the
end,
it
is
migrant
workers
and
their
families
who
pay
the
steepest
price,
each
in
their
own
way.


Senzeni
Chiutsi,
a
psychologist
based
in
Harare,
says
that
while
migration
allows
parents
a
chance
to
support
their
families
economically,
the
children
they
leave
behind
are
prone
to
stress
and
trauma.


A
2018
study
on
the
effects
of
migration
on
children
and
adolescents
left
behind
by
their
parents
noted
signs
of
depression
and
loneliness.
And
8
in
10
of
those
interviewed
reported
having
once
considered
suicide.


Already,
the
distance
between
Tanya
and
her
children
is
widening.
On
the
rare
occasions
she
visits
them,
her
9-year-old
son
finds
more
comfort
in
video
games,
while
her
two
girls
remain
behind
the
closed
doors
of
their
bedrooms.


“One
time
when
I
went
there,
my
second
child
said,
‘Mommy

I
don’t
even
know
[the
last
time]
I
was
hugged,’”
Tanya
says.


Although
she
stays
in
touch
through
phone
calls,
it
is
difficult
because
of
the
time
difference
and
her
working
hours.
By
the
time
she
is
home,
her
children
are
already
asleep.


The
emotional
cost
of
being
abroad
is
just
too
high,
she
says.


“One
of
my
friends
normally
jokes
about
how
we
were
given
the
wrong
information
coming
here,”
she
says.
“If
you’re
doing
well
in
Zimbabwe

I
don’t
see
a
need
of
coming
here.”


That’s
a
big
question
mark.
Most
people
move
because
their
governments
have
failed
to
keep
their
end
of
the
bargain
by
providing
workers
with
fair
conditions
such
as
adequate
pay,
says
Chikanda,
the
professor.


If
Tanya
were
employed
as
a
care
worker
in
Zimbabwe,
she
would
earn
an
annual
income
of
about
4,284
dollars

a
sixth
of
what
she
is
earning
abroad.


Even
so,
she’s
set
a
deadline
for
herself
of
this
year
to
return
to
her
family
if
they
can’t
join
her
in
Ireland.


“What
if
they’ll
be
broken
adults?”
she
says.
“It’s
not
like
I’m
going
to
be
rich,
to
be
honest.”


Gamuchirai
Masiyiwa
is
a
Global
Press
Journal
reporter
based
in
Harare,
Zimbabwe.


Global
Press
is
an
award-winning
international
news
publication
with
more
than
40
independent
news
bureaus
across
Africa,
Asia
and
Latin
America.

Post
published
in:

Featured