House Girls

I have mentioned Agnes and Dinah a few times at this point. What I haven’t written about is the constant moral and ethical dilemma I am faced with. Agnes and Dinah are what are called house girls. There are also boys who do the same work but those who work where I’m living happen to be women. I don’t feel particularly comfortable disclosing personal information about their lives but I will explain the general system for house girls/boys in Kigali.

Firstly, Kigali is a very developed city. Within the city there is poverty, however the poorest areas are outside of the city in rural areas. Subsistence farming is common and families often cannot support themselves to the end that the older children are sent away to work in cities with wealthy families, hotels, and long term residential compounds like where I’m staying. The simplest way to describe the working conditions is domestic servitude. The girls live in the home/hotel/compound in a small room with little to no access to basic utilities such as running water and electricity. They cook, clean, and run errands for the family or individual they are working for at all hours of the day and night with no legitimate break. The girls are often considered lucky if they can have Sunday off for church. 

They are also treated incredibly poorly. People bark orders at them and make a hissing noise at them to get their attention. They are yelled at if they are not prompt. Most of the homes I have been to in Kigali have a house girl/boy. I cannot understand the interactions because they are in Kinyarwanda but the girl/boy often leaves the room looking dejected or rushing off to get whatever the person has demanded. This is not the case for every household. I have one friend in particular who treats his house girl as his sister and is very polite and caring with her. He speaks of her often in high regard. In general though, house girls/boys are treated with disrespect and considered to be morally and otherwise inferior. 

This is all for the pay of no more than 20,000 RWF a month, or $30. This money is often sent home to help support the family. 20,000 RWF is not very much at all but without it, the girls’ families back home would go hungry. 

And here is where I get stuck. I hate this system and yet I am contributing to it by staying at the compound. I do what I can to keep Agnes or Dinah from cleaning up after me. I do my own dishes and try to straighten up the common room. My struggle is highlighted in the laundry debacle. For Dinah or Agnes to do my laundry each week it costs 3,000 RWF, or about $5. Half of the money goes to soap and supplies and the rest the girls get to keep. I am not one to have others clean my laundry. I have been doing my own laundry for nearly a decade and I generally have it under control. So instead of making the girls clean my laundry, I did it myself last week. Halfway through destroying my hands, arms, and clothing, I realized that having the girls do my laundry means they get additional money to save. But if I let them clean my laundry, it means I am further supporting a system I do not agree with. 

I normally take advantage of opportunities to help them financially within the constraints of my budget. Agnes loves painting nails and wants to open a salon (or saloon as they spell it here). She lectures me about wearing shoes more often as she buffs away at my feet and scoffs at the layers of dirt I have acquired. (I have atrocious feet). And we talk about dating and fashion and how to cook eggplant. She has recently begun the “you need to get married and have children campaign” to which I have simply given up on and said “some day.” Basically, I get really awesome girl time, a fresh coat of nail polish on my toes, and I get to give Agnes or Dinah an extra 5,000 RWF ($7.50) every week or two.  

Most people reading this know my qualms with forced labor and workers’ rights. I do what I can to eliminate my contribution to forced labor. Here though, I see the way entire families rely on domestic servitude to exist. To I help those families and in the process contribute to the system, or ignore hungry families and refuse to help based on some higher moral standard.