“When I spoke with my parents, tears rolled down my face. I was wondering what to tell them…”

These are the words of a migrant worker who, like thousands of others, has to leave his home in Pakistan and seek work elsewhere, carrying the weight of the expectations of his family and community.

He finds himself trapped between the reality of being a migrant worker, and the life of debt and humiliation that awaits him if he returns, unsuccessful in his endeavours.

Recent figures have suggested that agriculture production in Pakistan actually decreased by 0.9 per cent, while cotton output plummeted by 27 per cent. Behind these macro figures are the stories of the livelihoods of hundreds of thousands of Pakistani peasants.

For them, the only means of survival is migrating abroad to earn a living for their families.

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Syed Owais Ali, a rising Pakistani filmmaker, in his award-winning documentary Pakistan: No Place Like Home that was recently broadcasted on Al Jazeera, challenges this existing perspective by tracking the journey of a prospective migrant — Sharif — to the UAE from the village of Hakimwala.

In a short span of 25 minutes, Owais is able to capture the socio-economic factors that drive Sharif, a beloved and humorous member of his small village, to take a leap of faith and migrate abroad.

The story does not have a happy ending, like most migrant stories, but by giving Sharif’s story a face rather than relegating him to a mere figure, we can understand the dynamics at play and what areas need to be targeted.

This documentary is essential in broadening the narrative because it tackles two main misconceptions that are common to the discourse on migrant issues:

The perils of pride

The first misconception is that the migrants are simply unaware of the true nature of working abroad, especially in certain countries where migrants are not treated well, and so they ignorantly find themselves trapped in their host countries.

Sharif’s story, however, reveals that he is well aware of the perils of being a migrant worker in the UAE through his friend who already works there.

Can we then go on merely prescribing “raising awareness” as the silver bullet to this issue, or is it time to realise the failures of state and society that result in the socio-economic circumstances which compel those on the fringes to migrate?

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Even filmmaker Owais — someone who has grown up in the UAE and has had frequent interactions with migrant workers — claims in his author’s note that he found it surprising that this level of awareness was present in the village, and yet, it was collectively decided to send Sharif abroad.

Though intuitive, this revelation leads to the larger argument that migrant workers should not be treated as irrational agents who are simply dazzled by the prospects of higher earnings abroad and migrate in search for it, while unaware of the troubles that lie ahead for them.

It is easy to dismiss the poor as simply cattle that flock towards any source of income because that is seemingly their only goal.

In fact, migrants, similar to subjects of other social justice and public policy issues, must be regarded as rational actors, who undergo a process of a detailed cost-benefit analysis before making choices, but are faced with dire circumstances that often force their hand.

The debt of migration

The second major contribution of this documentary is that it captures a vicious poverty trap that is at work.

Sharif and his village live in poverty, such that they farm for a living, and make enough out of it to sustain themselves and own a small car for the whole village for emergency needs.

However, poor crop yields because of infrastructural issues force the village elders to decide that Sharif must go abroad to help provide for everyone.

After a few torrid months abroad, Sharif ultimately returns home, which results in his father having to sell his hard-earned property and the village having to sell the car to finance the debt of migration.

Not to forget, we are talking about people who can only afford one roti as a meal. Hence, even Sharif’s elderly mother, who pretends to be glad to have her son back, states with desperation that how can she truly be happy with his return when they are now so much more worse off.

Counter-factually, even if Sharif managed to stick to the plan and work abroad for a few years, there is little hope that he would have acted as a catalyst, as had been expected, to the village’s development.

In fact, most migrants find themselves trapped in a debt cycle, something this documentary does not focus on, that results from the presence of loan sharks in villages to finance the migratory process.

High transaction costs ensure that the migrant has to work much longer than anticipated simply to pay off his debt, much less contribute to the development of his community.

Investing in people — A more profitable business

On one hand, there are desperate economic conditions that force migration as the only alternative, while on the other, lie the loan sharks and recruitment agencies that exploit this desperation.

The absence of the state in this process is an integral part of this cycle. It is the responsibility of the state to protect its citizens from becoming victim to such a fate by looking beyond merely revamping urban centres and investing in the socio-economic development of rural areas.

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As for society, we should simply imagine what it would feel like to be ripped apart from your home and community, thrown into the deep end where workers' rights aren’t assured and prospects are grim, yet forced to labour on by the threat to your survival.

Surely, if we are truly to be a nation, we must protect our own from being forced to migrate under such dire circumstances, and hence be vulnerable to being treated as second-class citizens, if not worse, abroad.

If you are a Pakistani migrant living abroad, we would love to hear your story. Share your experiences with us at blog@dawn.com