Debt, sweat, and abuse: The price of building Saudi Arabia's sporting future

Trapped by debts, unpaid for months, living in squalor, toiling for years without a day off or deported with no warning. The shocking testimonies of migrant workers emerging from Saudi Arabia are in stark contrast to the story the country is trying to sell to the world.

The official line, spun by the Saudi regime with the help of PR agencies, social media influencers and sports stars, is that the country is undergoing a remarkable transformation into a modern, innovative and progressive nation, in which sports plays a pivotal role.

Play the Game has argued that Saudi Arabia’s sporting ambitions are “part of a meticulously crafted strategy to transform the kingdom’s global image and wield sport as a powerful instrument of geopolitical influence.” 

Its research revealed that the Gulf kingdom currently sponsors over 900 sporting events and has signed agreements with 48 football federations, a strategy which culminated in winning the right to host the 2034 World Cup.

Yet the spotlight of global sport is a harsh one. It draws the world’s attention to the spectacular events but also exposes what the Saudi regime would prefer to keep hidden: the systemic abuse of the millions of low-wage migrant workers who make the hosting of such competitions possible.

Cheap labour – not just cheap oil – is what powers the country. Migrant workers, largely from South Asia, East Africa and the poorer parts of the Arab world, make up over 40% of the population – around 13 million people – and are found in every sector that is needed to host major sporting events: construction labourers, hotel staff, restaurant workers, drivers, security guards, street cleaners and more. Just like in Qatar: without them, there would be no World Cup.

Migrant workers soaked in sweat work 10-hour shifts to build stadiums

This is in plain view at the first new proposed venue for the 2034 tournament, Aramco stadium in the eastern city of Al Khobar, where thousands of migrant workers, mostly from Bangladesh, have already completed the basic structure of the stadium.

The 47,000-seat venue is being developed by Aramco, the state-owned oil giant, and Roshn, a national real estate firm, owned by the Public Investment Fund (PIF). Aramco recently became Fifa’s most valuable sponsor, in a deal one expert estimated could be worth at least $100 million a year by 2034.

When complete, the stadium is set to be wrapped in elegant overlapping panels resembling the sails of a traditional dhow, to reflect its coastal location on the shores of the Persian Gulf. Computer-generated images show excited fans streaming out of the glowing arena into a beautifully landscaped park.

And yet, at the end of every shift, many of the men constructing the stadium head home to a rundown corner of Al Khobar, where the narrow streets are lined with Bangladeshi restaurants and travel agencies advertising flights to Dhaka. They trudge up litter-strewn stairwells and peel off their sweat-soaked clothes in cramped rooms shared by half a dozen fellow labourers.

They are all saddled with staggering debts from the illegal fees they were forced to pay to get to Saudi.

“You work for free for two years,” says one, describing how long it will take just to pay off his debt. He had worked on Al Bayt stadium in Qatar but says the conditions and pay in Saudi Arabia are far worse.

Some say they have worked for four months but only received one month’s salary. Many are forced to pay about a quarter of their meagre wages each month to their Saudi sponsor for their residence permit.

The Saudi’s World Cup bid hints at another winter tournament to protect the world’s best footballers from the searing heat, but the workers at the stadium toiled through the summer months on relentless 10-hour shifts.

“I’m just totally soaked in sweat. It feels like I have no power in my body,” says one.

Kabir was fleeced at every step in securing work in Saudi Arabia

The testimonies of stadium workers like Kabir, give a glimpse of the labour abuses faced by a far greater number of workers all across the country; massive recruitment debts, low, late or unpaid wages, exposure to extreme heat, passport confiscation, inhumane living conditions and limited access to justice, alongside a staggering number of deaths which appear to be largely unexamined and unexplained.

Kabir’s dream was to make it big in Saudi. He would earn a healthy income, send money home each month to his family in Bangladesh and help his younger brother pay for his education, he imagined. But that’s not how things worked out. Instead of making money, he has been fleeced at every step.

To get a work visa for Saudi, he had to pay an agent 650,000 taka (5350 US dollars): a colossal sum which is roughly twice the average annual household income in rural Bangladesh.

Almost all migrant workers pay extortionate and illegal fees to secure work in Saudi Arabia, but Bangladeshis pay the most by far. The visas are often procured by Saudi sponsors and then sold down a chain of middlemen to villages and towns across Bangladesh, with each agent and sub-agent taking their cut.

Once in Saudi and laden with debt, Kabir’s predicament only grew worse. He worked for a year and a half for a contractor who failed to pay him 15,000 rials (4000 US dollars). With no way to complain, Kabir left to look for other work.

That decision also came with a price. His Saudi sponsor filed a legal case against him for absconding, and the only way to get the case dismissed was to pay him off. The price for his freedom? Another 3650 US dollars.

When construction began at Aramco stadium, Kabir signed up, and while he now gets paid on time, he is only earning a basic wage of just over 1.50 US dollars an hour.

“How can I manage with this salary? We all expected to earn more when we left home,” he says.

Today, two years after arriving in Saudi, he has barely made a dent in his debt and struggles to send money home. His brother has had to drop out of school.

Despite promises, workers do not have the right to change jobs freely

A short drive from the stadium brings you to Al Khobar’s corniche: the promenade that skirts the seafront.

At six in the morning, it is in pristine condition. The railings glint in the rising sun, the plants are freshly watered and there is not a scrap of litter in sight, thanks to men like Anwar, one of dozens of Bangladeshi migrant labourers who work the shoreline. They have been here since midnight but say they have another five or six hours to go.

Despite the long hours, Anwar says he earns just 600 rials, or 160 US dollars, a month. Some of his colleagues say they earn marginally more, but they all claim they work without rest, seven days a week. Many say they have not had a single day off in years.

Recent reforms to Saudi's labour system – which featured prominently in its World Cup bid  and FIFA’s evaluation of it - were meant to allow workers the right to freely change jobs, but Anwar and his colleagues say it is impossible.

“As long as I’m here, I have to be under this contract. I have no choice to leave. My kafeel [sponsor] will not allow me to change the job,” he says.

An hour’s drive north, in the industrial city of Jubail, Mukhtar, a construction labourer from Pakistan who has spent 14 years in the country, is also trapped but for a different reason.

His employer went bankrupt, owing him nine months of wages. Unwilling to give up on his unpaid salary, he stayed on but had to borrow 8000 rials (2130 US dollars) to get by.

“Now people are harassing me, asking for the money back, which I don't have,” he says.

If he stays, his debts will grow. If he leaves, he will have to give up on his missing wages. If he goes to the police, they will deport him for not having a valid residence permit, which his employer failed to renew years ago. Mukhtar is now asking his wife to sell her jewellery and send him the money so he can repay his debts and return home.

For some the decision to come to Saudi Arabia pays off - money is sent home, land is bought, a new house is built – but even those who are getting by, often do so against the odds.

Adbur, a Bangladeshi employed as a hotel cleaner in Al Khobar, earns a regular monthly wage of 1700 rials (450 US dollars), much of which he sends home.

“I’m satisfied because at least I can now provide for my family,” he says.

And yet it took him about 10 months to pay off the recruitment debt he had racked up to secure the job. He works a 12-hour shift, with only one day off a month, meaning his hourly wage is the equivalent of just 1.25 US dollars.

Domestic workers are the most vulnerable

Of all Saudi Arabia’s migrant workers, those in domestic work - who are not even covered by the labour law - are the most vulnerable. Behind the walls of private homes, the rules are effectively set by the families they work for, as Shakirun Khatum, 25, found to her cost.

When a broker convinced Shakirun’s family that she could earn good money as a domestic worker in Saudi Arabia it sounded like an opportunity too good to pass up. She would not even have to pay a fee to secure the job.

Days were filled with washing dishes, cooking food, cleaning the house and tending to the garden. Work began at 8am and did not finish until 1am. Shakirun says she did not get a single day off in two years.

But despite the years of toil, she was never paid a thing.

“When I asked for my salary, they beat me with a metal pipe,” says Shakirun. “Whenever I raised it, the owner told me to shut up, beat me and locked me in my room.”

In the mind of the owner, since he had paid for Shakirun to come to Saudi Arabia, he owed her nothing.

“You have been sold to us, so you are not allowed to ask for anything,” he told her. “I brought you with my own money, so why should I pay you?”

Shakirun only made it home after her family raised enough money to effectively buy her back.

The prospect of Saudi Arabia hosting the World Cup is viewed with dismay by some migrant workers.

When asked whether the country deserves it, Mukhtar, the stranded Pakistani worker, says, “I don’t think so. The government knows about our problems, but they cannot find any solution for us. They support their [fellow] Saudis, but poor labourers have no status here.”

Some names have been changed.