Abstract

After Haiti’s devastating earthquake, Brazil opened its doors to immigrants seeking new opportunities. Five years on,
Five years ago, Brazil’s president, Dilma Rouseff, opened the country’s doors to Haitians. The federal government established an official camp for the migrants in Brasiléia, a remote town in the north-west state of Acre, bordering Bolivia to its southwest and only 100km from Peru. In the first year, the town hosted 37 Haitian refugees, but this rapidly swelled to 1,175 in 2011, 2,225 in 2012, 10,779 in 2013, and 13,047 in 2014, according to the federal police.
Haitian immigrants are not officially considered refugees under Brazilian law, which only terms people suffering from persecution related to race, religion, nationality or political reasons under the UN’s 1951 convention on refugees. However, Brazil has welcomed Haitians on humanitarian grounds and for the boost they give to the labour market as the economy swells. Haitians, in turn, are determined to get to Brazil as they believe there are better job opportunities there. What they don’t foresee is working for no pay and being afraid to speak out.
Brazil’s need for manual labour has turned the camp into a goldmine for private companies. Carlos Cesar Ferreira de Souza, a camp employee, said: “There is not enough manpower in the camp to fill the demand of companies. On one hand, this is good for the refugees, but the problem comes once they realise that they will be making minimum wage for intense manual labour.” Many Haitian migrants, he said, have been led to believe they will make at least $3,000 a month so there is a bad mismatch between the reality and their expectations.
Part of the refugees’ desperation comes from the fact they have endured a long, hazardous journey just getting to Brazil. In theory, all visas for migrants should be issued from the Brazilian embassy in Haiti, but the office is hugely overworked. One Haitian told The New Yorker magazine, in August last year, that getting an appointment was “like winning the lottery”. So many take the riskier route. They fly direct to Ecuador, where an entry visa is not required, then continue overland either through the Peruvian or Bolivian Amazon until they reach Brazil. Along the way, many fall prey to coiotes (people traffickers). Women can also find themselves sexually abused.
Haitian immigrants at the old Brazilian camp in Brasiléia, Acre. Overcrowding caused the camp to be shutdown in April 2014
Credit: Iara Beekma
“I witnessed everything you can imagine [on the overland journey to Brazil],” one Haitian immigrant, Finette Sensuel, told Index. “But because I speak Spanish I could defend myself. Unlike most women, I escaped sexual abuse, making me one of the lucky few. The worst part is not having anyone to turn to. Without papers, we have no right to complain.”
The worst part is not having anyone to turn to. Without papers, we have no right to complain
Now the journey to a refugee camp in Brazil has become even longer. The original camp in Brasiléia was forced to shut down in April 2014 because of severe overcrowding. A press exposé showed refugees living in inhumane and severely unhygienic conditions. After the closure, the state government opened a new camp the same month, 230km further from the Bolivian-Brazilian border at Rio Branco, Acre’s state capital. Facilities certainly improved. More than 20 bathrooms were built as well as a medical centre, but the extra distance from the border added further obstacles for migrants. Carlos Portela, a local activist, said he knew of people who were intercepted at the Brazilian-Peruvian border and given fake documents, saying their entry had been denied. In despair they had fallen into the hands of people traffickers.
There is great relief that comes from finally registering at the camp. The process of moving from being an undocumented Haitian immigrant to obtaining a work permit and “humanitarian visa” usually takes no more than five days. As one Haitian resident, Lucner Rosemin, said: “Even though this is far from the Brazil I hoped for, the people from Brasiléia have been hospitable. When I got sick, the head of the camp, Damiao Borges, immediately took me to the hospital, where I had the same rights as any other Brazilian. The nurse who treated me still invites me over for lunch every Sunday with her family.”
Haitian migrants are taking over manual labour jobs in Brazil. But if we do not act quickly, Brazil will become a market for slavery
A spokesperson for the Norwegian Refugee Council, which works with migrants all over the world, told Index: “Refugees can often only find work in the informal economy. By its very nature the informal sector is unregulated, making it an ideal space for unscrupulous employers to exploit and traffic workers. The incidence in Brazil with Haitian refugees should not be considered as isolated.”
I am no longer homeless, but I work without pay
It was early on 19 February last year when I decided to leave Haiti and all my belongings behind, as well as my job as a civil engineer. I sold everything that was in my name and managed to travel down to Brazil – first setting foot in Brasiléia.
Of course I thought I would quickly recover my investment, but that is far from the case. I have no one to turn to. My complaints all go unheard and merely threaten to worsen my situation.
More than seven months have gone by since I left the camp in Brasiléia and was taken in by my chefe (boss) to work at a fast-food restaurant in São Paulo, where I am given a meal a day and a place to sleep as a form of compensation. Sometimes I work more than 12-hour shifts, yet I have not a single [Brazilian] real in my pocket.
The few times I complained and asked my boss for some money, he reminded me that he picked me off the streets. It is true, I was homeless at the time. He was the only person who gave me a place to stay, but only to be at his disposal at all times. It is not worth complaining to the Ministry of Labour, I will only lose my job. At the same time I am also thankful to my chefe; my situation before was far worse than the one I am in now.
Maybe it is not fair to have expected so much of Brazil, but I was hoping for something more than I left behind. I just hope that the Haitians who are still coming this way are fortunate enough to find hospitable people along the way – as I did. But, I also wish that the conditions to receive them improve and they are not disillusioned.
© Sergo Pierre Louis
Based on an interview with Iara Beekma
One year ago, the Central Única dos Trabalhadores (CUT), Brazil’s main trade union, declared its solidarity with the Haitian refugees in the country, requesting that public policy specifically protects the rights of both immigrants and refugees in Brazil. Progress on Haitian workers’ rights is slow but small steps are being made to improve their condition. In March, the camp is establishing a partnership with the Ministry of Social Development to teach migrants Portuguese, so they can better stand up for themselves.
And yet still the stories of exploitation emerge. In August 2014, 12 Haitian refugees were discovered working at a sewing workshop, receiving housing and board as a form of payment for up to 15 hours’ work per day. Brazil’s Ministry of Labour has confirmed that the number of refugees in these conditions is increasing and it’s an issue they are trying to control.
“Haitian migrants are taking over manual labour jobs in Brazil. But if we do not act quickly, Brazil will become a market for slavery,” says Carlos Cesar Ferreira de Souza, an employee at the camp in Acre state. “Even though we run a back-up check on companies before we allow them to come to the camp, we have no system to truly verify what occurs once refugees leave our grounds.”
