By Mirza Hassan Raza
In Pakistan, the elite class loves calling domestic workers “part of the family” until it comes to giving them the rights that an actual family member would enjoy. Behind polished dining tables, expensive cars and imported furniture, there is often a driver sleeping in a garage, a cook working through illness, a maid raising someone else’s children while barely seeing her own, and a security guard standing outside for 12 hours in unbearable heat with little dignity or protection. Their work keeps households running, yet their contribution is rarely recognised beyond the services they provide. Somehow, this exploitation has become normal. Worse still, it has become a status symbol.
The bigger the house, the larger the household staff people are expected to employ. Multiple drivers, cooks, cleaners, babysitters, guards and gardeners are often viewed not as a necessity but as a reflection of wealth and influence. In many circles, having more people working for you has become another way of displaying social status. Servants are flaunted in much the same way as luxury cars, designer clothes and lavish homes. Perhaps the most disturbing aspect is how deeply this culture conditions the working class to accept such treatment as inevitable. Young boys become drivers before completing their education. Girls enter private homes as maids at an age when they should still be in school, learning that obedience matters more than self-respect.
Workers are expected to remain silent, smile politely and tolerate humiliation because they are constantly reminded that they should be grateful simply to have employment. For low wages that barely support a family? For working without written contracts, medical insurance or weekly holidays? For being scolded in front of guests over a minor mistake? For being addressed by insulting nicknames instead of their own names? Domestic workers in Pakistan remain among the least protected employees because their workplaces are private homes, hidden from public scrutiny. Abuse that occurs inside a factory or workplace may eventually attract attention, but abuse inside a wealthy household often remains invisible.
A bruised factory worker may still be seen by colleagues or inspectors. A maid facing violence behind closed doors may have nobody to witness her suffering. There are countless accounts of domestic workers being beaten, deprived of food, locked inside rooms, falsely accused of theft and psychologically abused by the very families who publicly promote kindness, generosity and religious values. For women employed inside private homes, the risks are often even greater. Sexual harassment and abuse frequently go unreported because victims fear losing their livelihoods, damaging their reputations or facing retaliation. In a society where class often determines whose voice is heard, poor women are among the easiest people to silence.
This silence benefits those who profit from cheap labour. The moment a domestic worker asks for fair wages, reasonable working hours, personal boundaries or legal protection, they are often dismissed as “difficult”, “ungrateful” or “disrespectful”. Instead of recognising legitimate demands, employers frequently portray workers seeking basic rights as a problem. The injustice extends beyond wages and working conditions. It also denies workers recognition for their skills. A chef capable of preparing meals worthy of a fine restaurant is still described as “just the cook”. A driver with years of experience navigating dangerous roads is spoken to as though he lacks intelligence.
A nanny who helps raise children from infancy often fades into the background once those children grow up. Their labour sustains households every day, yet their humanity is continually overlooked. Pakistan too often celebrates luxury without questioning the human cost behind it. Guests admire sparkling chandeliers but rarely ask who cleaned them. They compliment beautifully prepared dinners without considering who spent hours in the kitchen making them possible. They praise hardworking families while overlooking the workers carrying much of the burden behind the scenes. A truly modern society is not one where domestic workers stand silently behind their employers waiting for instructions.
(The writer focuses on social issues and highlights inequalities with various fragments of society. He can be reached at metro-morning.com)
