His name is Jay. But we called him ‘Artist’.
Artist could draw from his imagination. He has had no formal training, and is from the Musahar community here in Mahottari district.
“Ever since I was in Grade 5, I started dabbling with art and got better at it,” he told us. “My friends used to request me to draw for them which encouraged me further.”
He was part of an initiative aimed at making ethical recruitment accessible to the most marginalised communities who face significant barriers to migration.
Prior to departure in September 2024, he would stand in the middle of the orientation class, doodling unperturbed while two dozen pairs of eyes watched him. Perhaps he did not sense others watching him because his passion transported him to a different world. Or maybe he knew he was good at his craft, and the others were admiring his work.
Upon our request to fit the theme for the day he doodled an airport scene. But when left to his own devices, his natural inclination was to draw portraits of Hindu gods and goddesses (pictured, above). His wife told us he was the go-to person for people in his village when they wanted divine portraits on their walls, doors, vehicles and curtains.
Artist told us, “I have not made art on my wall yet because I don’t have a good house. Once I build a good house with my overseas earnings, I will draw portraits of Shankar Bhagwan and Krishna on my wall.”
With that, he left for Malaysia. And 15 months after his departure, we visited Artist’s family in Mahottari (pictured, below). His house is being renovated, and by the time he returns it will be ready for his portraits.
His mother beamed proudly, “I had told my son that as long as I lived, I would do everything to ensure his education was not interrupted. I made sure he passed his Grade 12 and learnt how to use a computer. Now he tells me not to do any work.”
They have paid off almost all their piled up loans of Rs500,000. Listening to her made me wonder what other intervention would have helped a family like hers pay off their outstanding loans, renovate the house and invest in better education and nutrition within 15 months.
Other Musahar families say that equally vital benefits of fee-free migration in their case include being able to pay off outstanding loans, covering a niece’s one-month hospitalisation bills, savings, meeting household expenses, purchasing medicines, and funding children’s education. The way a large crowd had gathered to see workers off shows how migration is as much about the families as it is about them.
To be sure, migration is not a utopia, remittance is not a silver bullet. Factory work is not easy, and overtime hours are not always guaranteed. Living away from home has its downsides. Missed milestones such as childbirth can be painful. Not everyone passes job interviews for ethical migration drives, which are few to begin with. Not everyone stays for the duration of their contract.
Based on our conversations with the Musahar youth, had they not migrated they would likely be engaged in low-paying seasonal jobs in India, day labour in brick kilns, or working in others’ agricultural fields, or possibly be unemployed.
If they did beat the odds to migrate overseas via traditional models, the challenges are well known: everyone would have taken loans at exorbitant interest rates, which could take months or even years to repay. Any goals they had would have to be delayed. Even then, there would be risks of contract violations.
