Episode 2: Eight Seconds

One story from Myanmar. An accident in a garment factory has profound impacts on a woman's work, family, and social life, and shows up the attitudes of those with power in stark relief. Resistance and persistence bring some wins, but challenges remain immense, especially under Myanmar's military dictatorship.

 

Links and contacts

Griffith Review: griffithreview.com

Matthew Abud (producer): tasi-sound@proton.me

Clean Clothes Campaign: cleanclothes.org

Patch Pheasant (bass player): patrickpheasant@yahoo.com.au

 

Transcript

Matthew Abud, Producer (MA):

This is Behind the Seams. A quick note that the story in this episode comes from Myanmar, also called Burma.

Garment Worker (GW):

I am now 29 years old. At the factory, there were shirts and also trousers. I had to iron the small pockets, that kind of thing. I sewed for the Primark brand.

On October 3rd, 2020, when COVID was happening, they asked me to attach fusing to the small trousers. I told my leader that I wasn't very skilled. I was scared to do it, you know?

My leader said, "Do it. You're quick." So, I had to do it. I was terrified.

They made me rush to finish the pieces. They said, "Hey, hurry up with the ironing." So, I had to work, quickly.

As I grabbed the garment, my hand got caught in the machine. I was caught for eight seconds. It was stuck.

When it was finally freed, I was taken to the factory clinic, but the nurse didn't do much. They sent me to the hospital. They put some medicine on it.

When it happened, they did nothing. They just went on with their work.

In the hospital, it was just me and my mother. My mother came. She said, "Oh my God, what happened to you?"

My mother took care of me. It was only me and my mother in the hospital.

My husband? He left. On the same day as the accident. The day my hand got injured, the day I was admitted, he wasn't there. He ran away.

Why did he come back now? It's because I reported it to his father. His father must have told him, "You have a daughter. She should be with both her parents."

So, he came back to reconcile.

My child was six years old then. I only have one child. Just one. She's in the second grade now.

 

After about six months, I called my manager and told him I was coming back to work. I asked if I could come back. He said, "You can't come back. I have already fired you."

I said, "Really? How could you have fired me?"

He said, "Well, the other people told me to fire you."

So, I went to the Labour Office. I talked to a senior person there. He said, "You can't fire her. Her hand is disabled, and you have to guarantee her a job."

The manager refused. He said, "She's fired."

Then the official said, "Where's her signature? Where's her dismissal letter? If you fired her, do you have the document? Does it have her signature?"

They said, "No."

The official said, "Then you have to rehire her. You have to rehire this girl."

They put me in the thread cutting department. I can't do too much because of my disabled hand.

They scolded me, saying I was disabled. They scolded me. Tears came to my eyes.

 

After a month of working, my hand started hurting, like a stinging pain. So, I went to see a doctor. They said they wouldn't guarantee the outcome, but they would have to operate. It would cost 2.5 million kyat. So, I said I would ask my boss and union leaders.

At that time, workers' organizations had started to appear. I got involved. I first told the labour leader. They're the ones who help us out. But the factory owner wouldn't pay. The manager said they had done as much as they could, and didn't need to pay anymore.

I asked, "What did you do for me? You didn't even give me a water bottle." As I was saying that, the manager berated me. He yelled at me. They offered 1 million in consolation money and 1 million for medical expenses. I refused. I said, if I get the treatment, it will cost 2.5 million. I showed them the doctor's letters and everything, but they refused to pay.

Then the leader from the union, STUM, she went there and filed the case for me. She helped me from the very beginning. I am very grateful.

Until today, I am grateful for their help. Thank you very much.

Well, the hand is better than before. It has improved. It looks like it's peeling. It's because they scraped it, you see? Before this, the fingers were tightly stuck together, and I couldn't move them. That's how it was.

They operated here, grafted skin from here. But I can't bend it all the way. I can only do this much. I can only clench it this much. I can't clench it tightly. Just this much is possible. It hurts if I try more.

The doctor said it's getting better. That's what he said. But I can't grip or hold things properly. I have to do physical therapy exercises. I can hold things a little, but it's not stable.

The factory shut down. I don't know if it was 2022 or 2023. Living became difficult. Because of that, I had to go back to the village.

In the village, there were also difficulties. We rented farmland. I had to borrow money from others, you know, at high interest, for the farming.

But the fields flooded, and the crops were lost. The mud was deep. It was bad luck.

My family members? They told me to fend for myself. They didn't accept me. They wouldn't let me into their house. I couldn't even borrow a cup of rice.

To put it simply, they didn't want to see me, or talk to me.

 

Ingyin Hlaing (IJ):

I don't know how a family can do that.

If my family would do like that, I would be like, oh, reach the point of suicide, like, yeah.

So I'm Ingyin. The story is about the, the girl who like whose hand got injured at work and they didn't take responsibility and how she has a difficult time after that.

MA:

How does it connect to what you understand, what you know is going on in your country? How does it connect to, you know, the communities, the situation that you have come from as well?

IJ:

Yeah, I think, I think it really reflects the reality because um there are so many other stories like this as well. And we don't know how people are living. They can't really do much because of the situation and everything.

Like, you know, in Myanmar, like rich people always stay rich and like poor people always stay poor.

The system's really bad. Yeah.

 

GW:

I have to work. I have to eat and live.

The STUM office provides me with a place to stay. So I'm living there. As for food, I get it from here and there, from friends. That's how it is.

My husband gives me money when he wants to and doesn't when he doesn't want to. He doesn't give on his own. I have to ask. I say, "I have no money for food and can't get by. Please give me money." When he sends it, it's 50,000, or 100,000, for the child's snack money, and so on. It's not enough.

STUM pay hostel fees. It helps a little. Even though it's not enough, we have to make it enough to eat. Without their help, I would have reached the point of suicide. Because the debts are piling up.

That's why I thought, I can't keep living like this, and went to look for a job. I couldn't get one. I can't really work. Why? Because my hand aches. The joints ache. I can't work. But I have to.

I applied. I'm skilled, you know. They were interested. But because my hand is weak, they didn't want to hire me. The boss said, "Oh, it's the girl with the injured hand. I have your phone number. I'll call you if I need you."

They won't call me.

 

I blame my own life. I get angry at myself because I can't work. Others have healthy hands and feet, and can work. And when they get paid, they are happy. They buy things and are well off. When I used to get paid, it was fine. I would invite my friends, talk, go out to eat, and even my siblings would join.

I feel ashamed among my friends and relatives.

I blame this hand. Because of my hand, I can't work.

I feel depressed. That's how it is.

 

MA:

This is Behind the Seams, stories from garment workers across the region, for Griffith Review. Thanks for listening.

I'm Matthew Abud, the producer of the show.

Thanks to Clean Clothes Campaign for their efforts in support of this production. 

And a big thanks to the Solidarity Trade Union of Myanmar, STUM. During production, the STUM leadership was arrested and detained because of their work organising for labour rights.

They are among countless political prisoners detained by the Burmese junta, since the military coup of 2021. There's a little more detail on that in the final episode. You can also follow their case on the Clean Clothes Campaign website.

Thanks to Hay Mann Zaw.

Thanks also to Ingyin Hlaing, voice actor on this episode.

And to Community Radio Maine FM, in Castlemaine.

The names of some others who participated in or supported production have not been mentioned, out of security considerations. That includes the storyteller herself.

Thanks to Patch Pheasant for the double-bass recording used here.

Relevant links and contacts are in the episode show notes.