Indonesia's "Southern Riot" use music to speak out for migrant workers in Taiwan
The Indonesian migrant band Southern Riot criticizes the exploitation and unequal treatment of migrant workers in Taiwan through music and performances, and also provides a space for many migrant workers to express themselves and escape from their work life.
Al Jazeera reported that surrounded by band members, Rudi performed on stage in Kaohsiung. As he looked out at the crowd, the band members began to play, igniting the enthusiasm of the audience.
Rudi sang "Threats silence us, we stand here and oppose this slavery system", and the excited crowd gathered in front of the stage, forming a "mosh pit" and chanting with him. Next to him, between two microphone stands hangs a banner that reads “Migrant workers have a voice.”
Originally from the town of Indramayu in West Java, Rudy had trouble finding work in his home country. “It’s hard to find a job in Indonesia, almost impossible. I don’t have a permanent job. I’ve done the best I can,” he told Al Jazeera.
Rudy came to Taiwan in 2015 and operates heavy machinery in a factory. Like many of Taiwan’s more than 768,000 migrant workers, he came here in search of work and the chance to build a better life.
However, the reality is often more complicated. Although migrant workers earn more in Taiwan, many find themselves exploited, in debt or physically and sexually abused. They are fighting back, organizing unions and NGOs and taking part in protests, including flash mobs and musical performances.
Rudy's group, the Southern Troublemakers, is made up of four migrant workers from Indonesia. They formed three years ago and have performed at the Megaport Festival, Taiwan's largest annual music festival.
Their songs, a mix of poetry and punk, protest what they call "slavery," a system they believe traps migrants. They also provide a space for many of their fellow migrants to express themselves and escape from their work lives. "I feel happy on stage," Rudy said. "Our songs seem to speak of our emotions."
Almost all migrant workers come to Taiwan through agencies or brokers, which exploits them from the start.
"We have to pay them to come here," Rudy said, referring to the "placement fees" charged by agencies. "Once we were in Taiwan, we also had to pay. They deducted some money from our wages to cover the monthly fees."
Lennon Wang, a member of Serve the People Association (SPA), a local NGO that focuses on migrant workers' rights, pointed out that such resettlement fees can be as high as US$9,000 (about NT$300,000), which is almost unaffordable for these migrant workers from less wealthy Southeast Asian countries.
Ronalyn Asis, who comes from a rural family in northern Luzon Island, Philippines, had to pay about 120,000 Philippine pesos (NT$66,000) for training, airfare and placement fees before coming to Taiwan in 2014 to work as a home caregiver.
While Asis was able to borrow money from her family, many have to seek private loans, often through brokers, which can carry high interest rates and leave migrant workers in debt, Wang said.
However, the problems do not end with their arrival in Taiwan. Migrant workers are given more arduous tasks than local workers, are expected to work harder by their employers, and some are not properly compensated, Rudy said. "Our job is fraught with injustice in every way," he said.
