Advertisement

‘I felt like I was left there to die’

Jitu Munshi, 36, a construction worker, fell and was crushed by a brick wall in an accident last November.

As he lay motionless, swamped in a pool of blood, his employer quickly disposed of his body in an inconspicuous location in Ubi away from the work site.

Horrifyingly, Jitu had remained conscious throughout the ordeal. His attempts to shout for help were in vain, helplessly watching his employer drive away.

The sole breadwinner of a family of six never thought he would live to see another day. "I thought that was the end. I felt certain I was left there to die," Jitu said through a translator.

"All I could think of was what would happen to my family, especially my children if anything happened to me," the father of four recalled.

After being discovered by a HDB cleaner, Jitu was warded in Singapore General Hospital for a month.

One of his legs had been damaged beyond repair; with bones sticking out painfully from his left ankle. The surgeon had to perform a skin flap operation by transferring flesh from his right upper thigh to his ankle.

Jitu, a Bangladeshi, had been working in Singapore illegally for eight months, earning about S$1,200 monthly. The former farmer had made the move in an attempt to boost his irregular income from agriculture which had proved insufficient to provide for his family.

Under the Immigration and Checkpoints Authority (ICA) of Singapore's regulations, Jitu could have been fined, jailed and even caned. However, due to the severity of his injuries, he was only handcuffed on the first day of hospitalisation.

On the day of his discharge in December, Jitu was visited by a Caucasian lady in her late 50s. Debbie Fordyce, a long time volunteer with Transient Workers Count Too (TWC2), a non-profit organisation dedicated to improve conditions of migrant workers in Singapore, told him he could stay at her flat while recuperating.

While bedridden for many months, Jitu was showered with exquisite care, and forged close friendships with several Bangladeshi friends. He had his external fixation removed in April, and underwent light physiotherapy at the condominium's gym to improve his muscular strength. He now relies on one crutch.

Counting his blessings, he shares: "Auntie reminds me of my mother." 'Auntie' is how workers affectionately address Fordyce.

Jitu is just one of the many foreign workers Fordyce has extended a helping hand to.

Over the last three years, she has housed several foreign workers in her three-level condominium. A resident there for nearly two decades, she had always maintained good relations with her neighbours. Her guests, regardless of nationality, were also treated with respect.

But an incident on 6 July changed it all.

Typically, while Fordyce only previously took in workers with extreme critical conditions that require long term treatment, she made a rare exception that night. Twenty homeless foreign workers approached her for help, and she decided to house them for one night.

However, residents panicked and the management took swift action. That very night, security guards knocked on her door demanding personal particulars of all her guests.

So now, while other residents' guests are able to use the gym and pool when accompanied by the owner, her guests — these "transient foreign workers" — are now denied that privilege. Furthermore, the workers are to provide full details including work permits or special passes upon arrival, and escorted directly to the flat.

The condo is also in the process of installing CCTV cameras.

"We don't want to cause any more trouble for Auntie," Rafiq Miah Abdur Rahman, a 27-year-old Bangladeshi who is also living under Fordyce's roof said. "Our position is tough. So now when we go out, we are scared too. Even if we see them, we look down."

The workers added though, that there are still several residents who are empathetic towards them.

Like Jitu, Rafiq suffered from a work accident that saw his left foot pierced through by a compressor. He too relied on the gym. Though not fully recovered, he can now walk.

Left with Hobson's choice, Jitu now paces at home with limited space by the kitchen table.

The moment he is deemed "fit to fly" by doctor's orders, he will be placed on the first flight home.

Jitu is also currently relying on a church's occasional donations to remit money home.

When asked about his plans upon reaching home, he only shakes his head, saying, "I have no idea."

In the midst of uncertainty, he reaches for his crutch, painstakingly sets his feet on the ground, and hobbles off.

Deborah Choo used to write for an array of websites such as Youth.SG and The Online Citizen. She now blogs in her free time.