The Boy’s Mother
We visit on our third day in Sandakan. She looks surprised to see so many of us. But we’re even more taken aback by the state of her little two-bedroom flat. Vui Fung had told us earlier that she lives alone. We’d half-expected her home to be gloomy and untidy. But the place is immaculately...
The Good Fight
My heart leapt when I saw this status update on Vui Fung’s Facebook page a couple of weeks ago:“I try my best to face all of this… I never wanna try to hide it again…” It was a huge step for her – this shy, awkward girl who hates being in the limelight, hates talking...
To The People Who Care
So we finished Migrant Dreams and The Human Trade and thought we’d hibernate for a bit. Rest. Recharge. Get a full night’s sleep. But sleep’s been tough. Post-production stress, maybe. The relentless pace of the past few months finally catching up on us. But it’s not just the work. It’s the fact that the problems...
The Human Trade
When were were making Migrant Dreams, one question that kept popping up was just why so many workers had to pay so much money for their jobs. The Human Trade documents our quest for an answer.
The High Commission
The Bangladeshi High Commission in Kuala Lumpur sits on a leafy road near the Petronas Twin Towers. It’s a posh-ish area, for posh-ish people. No wonder officials feel compelled to call in the police whenever they see too many workers camping just outside their gate. All those grasping people. What would the neighbours think? They’ve...
The Shelter
The first thing you see as you walk up the stairs is a pile of bags. Suitcases, rucksacks nylon carriers, a few plastic bags. Worn, torn, battered. Like the souls of the men you eventually meet. There are nearly 80 of them huddled inside two rooms on the top floor of a three-storey shophouse just...
