We migrated from Venezuela to Colombia in 2021 because our financial situation became too difficult. I trained as a tax administrator but ended up running a school kitchen for 350 children. It was a very tough situation and I fell into a depression.

My husband is an electrical technician and worked for a private company. One day, I told him I was going to leave and go to Colombia. At first he refused and said, “I will die in my country”. So, I told him I would migrate alone because I wanted a better future for my children. Then one day, when he’d finished a contract and been paid, he came home and said, “We have this money. Do we stay or do we go?”  I said, “We go!”

Rights migrate too

When I migrated, I honestly didn’t know that I had the right to social protection benefits, like healthcare and a pension. Since I was an outsider, I simply prayed that I wouldn’t have another hypertension crisis like I had had before. I was convinced that I would die if this happened.

For a year we lived in Cúcuta, just over the border in Colombia. My husband found work in construction and I got a job as a kitchen assistant. Then one evening I had a hypertension crisis and my husband had to stay home from work while I was going through it. The next day he was fired.  

These are two of my children. The main reason I wanted to move to Colombia was to give them a better future. 

We decided to move to the city of Cali, also in Colombia. I went first with my eldest son. I had a cousin there who said we could stay with him for a couple of weeks while we found our feet.  

I got to the bus terminal at midnight. I didn’t sleep or eat. At 7am I hit the streets looking for work. After many days of searching, I found a kitchen assistant position at a vegetarian restaurant. There was no written contract, just a verbal agreement. They paid me US$10 a day. I only lasted two months there as my boss was asking me to do way more than what had been originally agreed. I was very upset. I told my co-worker, “Soon she will be asking us to clean the chef’s undergarments.” 

I set up a business called “Yayi’s snacks” selling desserts. I know that I’m going to achieve everything that I have dreamed of.

Soon after, I heard that I could register for a temporary permit on a website. I did it and was called in for my biometrics. Two months later, I was given a national ID card. I did the same process for my entire family and thank God we are all now officially registered as residents in Colombia. 

I then decided the best thing for me would be to work independently, like my parents did. When I was 13, my father set up a soft drink business in the main square where we lived in Venezuela and I used to help him. I also helped my mother with her business selling empanadas. 

I set up a business called “Yayi’s snacks”, selling desserts. I used to prepare desserts in Venezuela and when I worked at the school, I always made them when there was a birthday celebration. 

I love having my own business. I’m not covering all my costs yet but it’s great to be able to contribute to my sons’ education. I sell to people in my neighbourhood and have started getting contracts for events as well. Right now, I’m in a training programme where I’m learning all the administrative parts of running a business. I know that I’m going to achieve everything that I have dreamed of. 

These creamy desserts that I make are popular with my clients.

I love to serve others. I think that there is a God that watches everything. Even when I don’t get anything back here on Earth, I know that God will repay me, and he will do it with my three children.  

I wanted to do something for other Venezuelan migrants like me. I joined a Whatsapp group for the Venezuelan community and found out about a non-governmental organization called “United Colombians and Venezuelans Foundation” or Funcolven. It supports the Venezuelan migrant community. I applied to be a volunteer and I am still there today. 

Through Funcolven, I participated in various trainings, including one supported by the International Labour Organization (ILO) called the “Migrant Bird School for Social Protection”. The experience filled my soul. I learned about so many things that I didn’t know before. I learned about the “Rights migrate too” campaign. They taught me about my rights as a migrant worker, including my right to social protection such as a pension and healthcare. They gave us a toolkit, including pamphlets. I have now become a spokesperson for the school.  

When I got home, the first thing I did was to talk to my husband about the various risks that he had in his new job as a truck driver. I informed him of his rights and what his employers should cover in his contract. He didn’t know about any of this and he was eager to learn more. I explained that if he was on a trip and had an accident, his employers had to cover his medical expenses. I am now the go-to person for him and his co-workers. If anything happens, they come to me for advice.

I volunteer my time talking to other Venezuelan migrants in my neighbourhood in Cali. I explain step-by-step the process they need to go through to get registered, so they can access social protection benefits in Colombia.

I am also involved in a radio project called “Travelling Voices” for Venezuelan migrants in Colombia. After the training I was super excited. I shared what I had learned with my co-workers and suggested interviewing on the show the director of the ILO’s project in Colombia. I said to myself, “if other people can do it, why can’t I do it too and do it well?” They gave me the green light and I did the interview. It was a very significant moment for me. 

I love to go out campaigning. I’ll go up to people and say, “Do you know that rights also migrate?” I explain that social protection is a right, regardless of the country we are from.

I love to go out campaigning. I’ll go up to people and say, “Do you know that rights also migrate?” I explain that social protection is a right, regardless of the country we are from. Our rights are ours and nobody can take them away. 

I advise them to make sure they are registered for social protection, even if they don’t know if they will stay in this country for very long. It can be a lifeline. 

You never know when you may get sick. You can be perfectly fine today and not do so well tomorrow and if you haven’t registered, it will be harder to have access to your rights. 

The people I talk to are happy because they have no clue about this. 

Learning that we have rights as workers has changed my life. I feel empowered having this knowledge. Now I can give this information as a gift to others who will, in turn, share it with their community. In time the whole community will have this knowledge too.

More than 2.4 million Venezuelan migrants and refugees are in Colombia - around 34 per cent of the total that has left Venezuela.

Accessing healthcare is one of the main challenges faced by Venezuelan migrants. A significant percentage of migrants are not registered in the healthcare system. This hinders their access to necessary medical care, medications and treatments. 

The “Rights Migrate Too” campaign targets Venezuelan refugees, migrants and returnees and Colombians. It explains how they can access social protection programmes including health and unemployment services, pensions and accident and illness at work coverage.  

The campaign includes training sessions called “The Migrant Bird School for Social Protection”. Participants are trained in social protection rights and soft skills. They also receive a toolkit so they can share the campaign's message. 

The campaign is run by the ILO and the World Food Programme, in partnership with the Colombian Ministry of Labour. It is funded by the European Union through the Improving Synergies between Social Protection and Public Finance Management Programme.

Rights Migrate Too campaign (in Spanish) 

ILO launches social protection campaign for Colombians, migrants, refugees and returnees in Cali (in Spanish) 

ILO’s work to strengthen the socioeconomic integration of Venezuelan refugees and migrants in Latin America and the Caribbean

Improving Synergies between Social Protection and Public Finance Management Programme

In search of a better future, Ditraiza Ramírez migrated with her family from Venezuela to Colombia. Having made a new life in a new country, she wanted to help others like her and now spends her spare time raising awareness about migrants’ rights to social protection.

I was one of the sacrificed generation. Growing up I was a good student and dreamed of becoming a pilot. I was the first person in my family in Côte d’Ivoire to pass my high school baccalaureate. But by the time we finished our high school exams in 2004, the Ivorian crisis had already started.

I come from the Kabadougou region in the north of Côte d’Ivoire.

Because we came from a besieged area, the national armed forces, the FANCI, called us rebel students. I was top of my class and was in line to apply to the Félix Houphouët-Boigny National Polytechnic Institute. The FANCI came and pulled some of us out of the ranks, telling us that we weren’t fit to apply for the institution. 

I then decided I wanted to leave Côte d’Ivoire and go to Canada, but I was even banned from immigrating by the authorities. Coming from a poor family, we couldn’t overcome the obstacles. 

In the end I did two post-secondary national professional degrees called a “Brevet de technicien supérieur” (BTS), one in farm management and one at a livestock school. I chose to go into agriculture, as it was the field I knew best. I was already familiar with the livestock environment; my father was a poultry farmer and my mother a beekeeper.

When I graduated in 2009 the financial crisis and unemployment was at its peak. I was applying for jobs but there were no real opportunities.

When I graduated in 2009, the financial crisis and unemployment was at its peak. I was applying for jobs but there were no real opportunities. I did a bit of everything. For a while I ran a cybercafé. I also provided advice and guidance services on poultry and rabbit breeding. 

Then an entrepreneur friend of mine, who knew that I had entrepreneurial ambitions, told me about the International Labour Organization’s (ILO), Start and Improve your Business (SIYB) training course. It teaches how to structure your business and organise your ideas. I applied and was accepted onto the course. 

This is the day I received the SIYB training certificate in Abidjan in 2017.

I had lots of ideas. I wanted to do a thousand and one things at once. Taking part in SIYB helped me to focus and I decided to develop a business selling honey.

What I liked most about the SIYB course was that they helped us to put our ideas on paper. They made us do practical market research. They didn't just give us theoretical training, they put us to work. We did everything we needed to do on a practical level first. When I left SIYB, I had a finished project including a business plan.

In my village, people had honey they didn't know what to do with and in Abidjan, people were looking for good honey but didn't know where to get it. I said to myself: "Why not be the bridge between those people?”

One of the things we learnt during the SIYB training course was that you really need to know about your area of business as much as possible and minimise the risks. I had training in animal husbandry and through my mother I had experience in beekeeping, which I was able to capitalise on. 

Every time I returned to my village, I saw that people there had honey they didn't know what to do with. Meanwhile, here in Abidjan, people were looking for really good honey but didn't know where to get it.

I said to myself: "Why not be the bridge between these people? “

At the time there was also a trend to sell everything in stick packs: toothpaste, milk powder, mayonnaise, even a meal. It gave me the idea to make honey available in stick packs too. That way, people can use it everywhere and in very specific quantities. And it's not messy either, because that's another problem when you're carrying honey around.

My honey brand is called labeille and this is the stick pack I sell my honey in. 

With my business plan, CFA 11 million (US$18,350) in savings and CFA 100 million (US$167 000) in investment funding, I felt ready to set up my project.  

However, when I first started my honey business, it was very difficult. My family didn’t support me at all. But I have learned as an entrepreneur that when you believe in something, you mustn’t give up on your dreams for other people. You have to create your own story.

It’s been five years now of running the business. We’ve won several awards, including the CGECI Female Entrepreneurship Award in 2019. We currently distribute to all the supermarkets in Abidjan and elsewhere in Côte d’Ivoire. We've also started to attract new customers, such as pharmacies and hotels. We also work with restaurant-cafés, which offer our stick packs for people who want honey instead of sugar. 

The biggest challenge we face is supply, so I decided to go into production. We currently have 100 hives. Our aim is to have between 1500 and 2000 hives by the end of 2025. 

In the long term I want to be certified and to have labeille honey on supermarket shelves in Europe and in the Gulf region, the way that European honeys are on our shelves in Abidjan.

I’ve started producing my own honey to increase supplies. I discovered beekeeping through my mother and was always curious about how things worked.

When I was a child, adventure and travelling fascinated me. It made me dream of being a pilot. Entrepreneurship is also a journey full of adventure. I’ve got to know people, I’ve learnt how to tackle problems, and now I manage to live decently. For me, that's good. 

When we started out, honey was bought at CFA 500 (83 US cents) a litre from farmers. Today, with the added value and the spotlight we've put on honey, people are now buying a litre of honey at CFA 1,500 (US$2.49). In the past, farmers found it difficult to sell their produce. Now they have tripled the selling price of their raw material, 

I'm very proud to know that I’ve made a contribution to this. There's a quote by Ralph Emerson that I've always liked, ever since I was a student. He said: "Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail." I think that's what I'm doing now and it makes me really proud.

I’m proud of what the business has achieved and I’m looking forward to increasing production with our beehives.

Start and Improve Your Business (SIYB) is a training programme developed by the International Labour Organization (ILO) to support the creation of micro and small enterprises. 

The ILO works in partnership with the Ivorian government’s Vocational training development fund (FDFP) and with the national employers’ organization, the Confédération Générale des Entreprises de Côte d'Ivoire (CGECI), to provide SIYB training in Côte d’Ivoire. 

Over 500 entrepreneurs, including Cissé Mabré, have participated in the SIYB programme in Côte d’Ivoire.

By building the skills of entrepreneurs, the SIYB programme aims to create jobs and wealth, and combat poverty. These are the objectives of Sustainable Development Goal 8 on Decent Work and Economic Growth

Cissé Mabré’s Facebook page for her honey brand Labeille (in French)

ILO Start and Improve Your Business programme

SIYB in Côte d’Ivoire, Fonds de Développement de la Formation professionnelle (FDFP) (in French)

Confédération générale des entreprises de Côte d'Ivoire (in French)

Sustainable Development Goal 8 – Goal of the month, August 2023

When crisis hit Côte d’Ivoire, Cissé Mabré’s education hopes were dashed. Undeterred she persevered, and with the help of ILO business training is now a prize-winning entrepreneur producing honey sold across the country’s supermarkets.

Sweet success for a honey trailblazer in Côte d’Ivoire

My name is Jonas. I am 46 years old and come from a small town in Lithuania near the border with Poland. Work is hard to find in my country and it’s poorly paid when you get it. I was in debt because of a loan for medical bills for one of my children. So money was tight.

One day I was approached by a man called Mindaugas, who said he could find me a job in the UK that would pay me more in a week than I could earn in Lithuania in a month. He made it all sound very good and said I could get a good life there. It was a hard decision to leave my home country and quite scary but I needed the money.

I could not afford the fare but he told me that I could pay him back for the transport and accommodation once I started working. I had to trust him.

I decided to accept the job offer and go to the UK, even though I was scared. I needed the money.

Along with several other Lithuanians we drove to the UK in a van. It took more than two days.

When we arrived, we were met by a man called Marijus who took us to a house on the coast. It was very cramped with lots of people living there. They said they would find work for me and that I would have to open a bank account so that my wages could be paid into it.

It took a while to get a job and they kept telling me to be patient. I had no food and my debts were piling up. After a few weeks they took me to a factory where they prepared chickens for the supermarkets. It wasn’t pleasant and it was repetitive but I was very relieved that I was finally working for decent money.

In the first couple of weeks, I was paid with cheques – not into my new bank account. I had to go to a shop where they cashed them for you. They charged commission, of course!

As soon as I got the money, they would force me to hand it over to them. I was very frightened and feared that if I did not do as they said they would beat me up. 

Marijus had his men follow me and as soon as I got the money they would force me to hand it over to them. I was very frightened and feared that if I did not do as they said, they would beat me up and take it anyway. I gave them all of my wages for the week – about £260. They took £220 and gave me £40 back ‘to live on’, they said. They told me I still owed about £1,000 for the transport to the UK and my accommodation and food so far, so I should get used to it.

They were charging me about £60 per week for a bed in a shared room, sleeping on the floor with three others but they said if I did not live in the house they provided, then I would not get work. I was trapped!

They were charging me £60 per week for a bed in a shared room, sleeping on the floor. They said if I did not live in the house they provided, then I would not get work.

After a few weeks I’d had enough. They were taking nearly everything I earned. I was working for nothing. This was not the life I had been told about.

We talked in the house about what we could do. Two other men felt the same as I did and so we decided to risk it and run away. We found a different place to live but knew that we were always in danger as Marijus would come looking for us.

He managed to contact me by phone. He threatened me so we went back to the chicken factory. He had contacts there and made sure we were put on a shift where his men could watch us.

He said if I talked to anyone I would disappear and that if I tried to get back to Lithuania, they would find my family and kill them.

Then one day we were followed back to the flat. Marijus and his men forced their way in and threatened me. They started rifling through all my things and found what was left of the money I had brought with me from home. They took it and then found some cash withdrawal slips I had from a new bank account I had opened. They were furious and demanded my new bank card and passport. When I refused, they beat me and knocked me unconscious. They searched the flat and found my bank card but I had hidden my passport in my pillow case. I told them I’d lost it. I didn’t want to give that up or there would be no chance of escape.

Marijus yelled at me: “You came here not to earn and save but to manage and get through.” In other words, he was telling me I was nothing more than their slave and was brought to the UK to earn money for them and not for me. He said if I talked to anyone I would disappear and that if I tried to get back to Lithuania, they would find my family and kill them.

I guessed money was passing through the bank account they set up for me and suspected this had come from prostitution and drugs, so I put a block on it. When they found out, I received texts threatening my life.

Marijus and his men forced their way in and threatened me. They were furious and demanded my new bank card and passport. When I refused, they beat me and knocked me unconscious.

Then one day at the factory, I was interviewed by a woman who said she was from the Gangmasters and Labour Abuse Authority - the GLAA. She said they were trying to find out if workers at the factory were legitimate and being treated and paid properly. I didn’t tell her anything at the time because I didn’t know if I could trust her but later I called and told them everything. They told me about the National Referral Mechanism (NRM) for trafficking victims. Then it dawned on me. I had no idea that’s what I was until it was explained to me. Me – a victim of human trafficking!

They explained I’d been brought to the UK to be exploited. I was being forced to work. I had no control over my life. That’s what human trafficking is!

The Gangmasters and Labour Abuse Authority explained I’d been brought to the UK to be exploited. I was being forced to work. I had no control over my life. That’s what human trafficking is!

Soon after, Marijus disappeared from the house but I lived in fear he would come back one day looking for me.

The NRM moved me to the north-west of England – safe from the eyes and the threats and the fists of Marijus. I stayed there for a couple of months and thought about getting another job – one where I would be paid properly and earn the kind of money I had been promised at the start. But I wanted out. I’d had enough. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be safe.

I hope Marijus and his gang will be found and pay for what they did. They are not humans. I wanted to leave this world for a time and I never want to feel that way again.

Jonas’ story is real, names have been changed. Jonas was rescued by the Gangmasters and Labour Abuse Authority (GLAA). 

The GLAA works to protect vulnerable and exploited workers in the UK. It regulates the recruitment of workers in supply chains in agriculture, horticulture, shellfish, related processing and packaging, to make sure companies respect the law. 

The International Labour Organization (ILO) has collaborated with the GLAA for many years, including in the framework for the Fair recruitment Initiative, the 50 for Freedom campaign, and to facilitate training on the detection and investigation of forced labour cases by law enforcement officers.

An estimated 27.6 million men, women and children were in forced labour around the world in 2021, including 17.3 in the private sector. Every country is affected.

Forced Labour generates USD 150 billions of dollars in illicit profits. Industries and businesses face unfair competition and states loses billions in tax income and social security contributions.

The ILO’s Forced Labour Protocol is a legally-binding treaty that requires governments to take effective measures to prevent forced labour, protect victims and ensure they have access to justice and remedies. 

This story was originally produced for the ILO’s 50 for freedom campaign, calling for countries to ratify the Forced Labour Protocol. To date, 60 countries have ratified the Protocol.

Global Estimates of Modern Slavery: Forced Labour and Forced Marriage

ILO topic portal on forced labour, modern slavery and human trafficking

Modern slavery affects 28 million people worldwide. Behind these statistics are millions of harrowing human stories. Jonas was deceived, trafficked to the UK and pushed to the brink. Read his story.

They were taking nearly everything I earned, I lived in fear

When the war started in Syria, we were forced to flee the country because of the danger we faced. The change was momentous. 

We used to live a normal family life in a home and moved to life in a refugee camp, where our entire home was one tent. Our whole life became centred on waiting to receive aid.

In the beginning, the camp was just a vast cluster of tents in the desert. We found ourselves living inside what was essentially a piece of cloth. We were exposed to wind and dust, to high temperatures in the summer and freezing temperatures in the winter. Two snow blizzards and windstorms hit the camp while we were still living in tents. Now, we live in converted containers.

A job changed my life as a refugee

All my four children were born in the camp. They saw a house on the internet and were surprised because it had an internal staircase because there is no such thing in the camp.

Living in a camp is a sort of primitive life. There is no electricity, transportation or paved streets. At least, this was the situation in the beginning.

Water was also an issue. Finding drinking water, and water for washing and household use, was difficult.

Another great worry was that we had no source of income. We relied on the aid that was distributed to us, but this was not enough.

ILO Job Search Club Facilitator, Za’atari refugee camp

Not knowing the people who lived around us was also a source of great concern. We didn’t know where our new neighbours came from. We didn’t know anything about their background or set of beliefs. This was a cause of fear for us. 

I needed to find work so I could get some extra money to overcome daily difficulties.

I was a teacher back in Syria, working in state elementary schools before and after graduating from university. I also worked as a history and geography teacher in local high schools.

Five days after arriving in the refugee camp, I started looking for work, going to different organizations and looking for jobs as a volunteer. Volunteering allows refugees to work inside camps, performing jobs that would otherwise be closed to Syrians outside of the camps. 

I searched the entire camp for an occupation, visiting all the organizations present here, but I didn’t get any positive answers, nor did I receive any help in my initial quest for work. So, I went outside the camp and found a job on a construction site nearby. I also worked in agriculture.

I would still occasionally search for jobs inside the camp. It worked sometimes. I helped people transport and carry heavy items, or I fixed their tents. I needed to get some extra money to overcome daily difficulties and bring home some extra basics like mattresses and sponges. 

All four of my children were born inside the camp. My eldest son, Hamza is 7 and attends school in the camp. I help him with his studies. 

I finally found a volunteering position with a humanitarian organization eight months after arriving in the camp. It was the end of an exhausting journey. I was tired of getting unskilled and insecure work like the daily chores I had been doing until then.

The volunteering involved providing psychosocial support to children in the camp, especially to those who did not attend school and went to work instead and faced many risks.

We had to teach them how to protect themselves. I also taught literacy classes. This turned my life from negative to positive. I again became a productive and confident person. I could finally make an impact on other people’s lives again.

Through this position I learned  that work is not only measured by the financial return one gets. I started measuring the value of my work by the change I created by helping vulnerable children. Some of them also took me as a role model.

There are many things from this time in my life that I will never forget. For example, there were 14 and 15-year-old children who used to work and could barely read or write, but who became literate after attending my classes.

These were touching moments because I was able to influence them and make a change in their lives, no matter how simple. Without this additional knowledge, their lives would be worse.

I learned that work is not only measured by the financial return one gets. I started measuring the value of my work by the change I created by helping vulnerable children. Some of them also took me as a role model.

I started my collaboration with the International Labour Organization via a three-day training workshop on career guidance services. Following this, colleagues and I took additional sessions on counselling, offered inside the camp.

I joined the project as a volunteer. I was interested in the ILO Job Search Club initiative because I had myself suffered the ordeal of searching for a job inside the camp. The idea of a club to help people find an occupation is a great way to improve the situation on the ground. I wanted to help other people finally find suitable jobs. For me, helping people as a Job Search Club facilitator is a mission.

Looking for a job is an obsession for people in the camp. We continuously need to look for work to exist.

It took me eight months to find my first decent job in the camp. But if one evaluates one’s own skills and uses a specific methodology to search and apply for jobs, such as that used by the Job Search Club, one can save precious time, and it can represent a turning point in one’s life.

The Club helps remove the sense of frustration job seekers might experience, thinking that there are no job opportunities and that they need to fight on their own to develop their skills.

I run career guidance sessions for fellow Syrian refugees on how to find jobs based on their skills.

Today, we show members of the Job Search Club how to search for jobs, how to recognise their skills, the assets they need to build up to enter the job market, as well as how to set their goals to get the job they want.

We support them in taking the first steps in their job quest, explain how to use their existing network of acquaintances and how to build a new one to get a job. We support them in writing their CVs, distribute them and connect with people. 

The idea of a club to help people find an occupation is a great way to improve the situation on the ground. I wanted to help other people finally find suitable jobs. For me, helping people as a Job Search Club facilitator is a mission.

There are two types of job opportunities for people in the camp – professions such as opening and running shops, service maintenance, and providing services such as blacksmiths and carpenters.

The second kind are voluntary jobs with humanitarian organizations, which include training, teaching, and implementing activities and programmes. These are professions that are closed to Syrians outside the camp.

It has been my honour to train with, and also train colleagues from Jordan’s Ministry of Youth, helping young people enter the labour market.

I recently went to Jordan’s capital city, Amman, to run a participatory training session for facilitators and partners of the ILO Job Search Club project at Jordan’s Ministry of Youth.

Today, when I am not facilitating sessions, I work with a humanitarian organization in the camp as a volunteer and office supervisor. When I return home I play with my children and visit friends and relatives in the camp. 

My oldest son is Hamza who is seven years old. I also have Sidra who is five, Zaid who is three, and Muhammad who is just two months old. Hamza is attending school in the camp. If you want to continue with your studies after completing high school, you need to obtain a scholarship, but it is very difficult to get. 

We thought we would be able to return to Syria after a short period in the camp. But then days turned into weeks, weeks became months and months became years. 

We had to integrate within the new society and had to accept the life in which we lived, coexisting with the other people in the camp and learning how to develop ourselves in our new circumstances.

This country is an honourable one, there is unity. It helped us. Stability is our main dream. Life in the camp is not stable. I wish for a better life and a return to the normal routine I knew before the war, and for my mind to be at peace.

We want to develop, so that our children will live a better life than the one we’ve endured.

An estimated total of 1.3 million Syrian refugees live in Jordan.

The majority struggle to make a living or to find decent job opportunities. 

Syrian refugees can work as volunteers with organizations in the camps. 

Outside the camps, refugees with work permits can work in specific sectors including agriculture, maintenance and repair works, construction, wholesale and retail trade, hospitality services, and arts and recreational activities. 

The ILO’s Job Search Clubs (JSC) programme has supported hundreds of Syrian refugees and Jordanian youth to help them find suitable work. 

The project is run in coordination with the Ministry of Youth and UNICEF and is implemented by the Business Development Centre (BDC).

The Job Search Clubs programme is supported by the Netherlands, through the PROSPECTS partnership.

Earlier this year, a new training module focusing on job opportunities connected to the green economy in Jordan has been included in the Job Search Clubs programme (JSC).

ILO and UNICEF join forces to support youth through job search activities in Jordan

Partnership for improving prospects for forcibly displaced persons and host communities (PROSPECTS) – Jordan

War in Syria forced Syrian Abdel Halim al Qasir and his family to flee to the Za’atari refugee camp in Jordan. Becoming a facilitator for the ILO’s Job Search Club project and helping other refugees inside the camp find new careers and job opportunities, has given him renewed hope for his and his family’s future.

My brother and I started working during the tobacco harvests when I was seven and he was eight. There wasn’t really an alternative. My father was a tobacco worker and his earnings weren’t enough to cover the costs of our school supplies and clothes. It was the only way to make ends meet.

We would work during the summer months of December, January, February and March. We worked in the fields, loading and unloading the driers and helping wherever we were needed. We would see other children playing while we had to carry on with our work.

I was a child labourer, now I work to prevent it

My brother and I knew that it was our way of contributing to the family’s income, and to our education. We also knew that almost inevitably our future was to continue working in the fields. So, we worked to be able to go to school and to earn our own money.

My brother and I around the time when we started to work in the tobacco fields. Here we are with our family for our first communion. 

We bought school supplies and clothes for the whole school year with the money we earned. It meant that work was almost obligatory for us. Otherwise we wouldn’t have had what we needed for school. 

Although this experience marked my life in a negative way, we never felt resentment nor anger towards our parents. But we do feel that we missed out on play and sharing with other children. We couldn’t live the lives of normal boys.

My brother and I missed out on play and sharing with other children. We couldn’t live the lives of normal boys.

Civil servant, Ministry of Labour, Province of Salta, Argentina

We continued as tobacco workers until we were 22 and 23 years old. Eventually we took over the farm and had our own production enterprise. 

My childhood experiences working in the tobacco fields mean I understand how other child labourers feel, and what pushes their families to put their children to work.

I know what it is to work in the tobacco fields. This is me as a teenager lifting a bundle of tobacco leaves onto the back of a truck. 

In 2008, I started working at the Ministry of Labour in the province of Salta. The Minister at the time realised that a team from the ministry needed to work in the Lerma Valley so they could monitor not only undeclared work but also child labour. The Lerma Valley is the largest area of tobacco production in the province. 

I head up that team. With my experience I met all the conditions necessary for the role. I had been a child labourer. I had been a tobacco employee, and I had been a tobacco producer. I knew the work that was involved and the activities where children would be working.

A large part of what we do is to constantly raise awareness about child labour and tell communities that children should not work, that they should not do anything other than be allowed to develop as children. 

The challenge we face is that in society in general, people think it is normal and right for children to work. So that is what needs to be changed, especially among those who have the power to make decisions. They need to understand that child labour is not the best thing for children. 

We have developed ways to prevent the occurrence of a lot of child labour through the children’s centres that operate during the tobacco harvest. These have been set up by the Tobacco Industry Chamber in collaboration with the government of the province of Salta and other institutions. With their children taken care of, parents can work without having to worry about them. It seems to me that this is one of the best and most successful policies helping to prevent child labour in this area.

Also, with modernisation, different types of driers are being used. Because of their design, children cannot work with them easily. This changing reality has also meant that fewer children are working.

Children at one of the centres set up during the tobacco harvests. They hold up signs they have made with phrases such as “I have the right to play” and “Respect our rights!”. 

I found out about the ILO Offside project through my work. They invited us to participate in a training course on the prevention of child labour.

On the course we learned about other sectors where children are working. Elsewhere in the province of Salta, children are working in the wood industry. In my area they work in tobacco and in other areas child labour occurs in vegetable growing. Children can be found working everywhere, even in commerce.

Doing courses like this helps me in my work. I learned a lot of things that I didn't know about or didn't have a clear idea about before. I learned about how to detect child labour, how to implement policies to reduce child labour, as well as how to protect adolescents who are working. In our tobacco-growing area, a lot of adolescents are working without the necessary protections.

I don’t want my son to miss out on childhood experiences, like I did. I want him to simply enjoy his childhood and for him to fulfil all his dreams when he grows up.

My dream is that child labour will be eliminated. I think it’s the dream of many people - not only that children stop working but that they and their families receive support from the state and from intermediate institutions so that children don't need to work. I think children end up working because of a palpable need.

A lot of progress has been made. Although I am very happy about this, we need to continue to do more. I always say this whenever this issue is discussed. During the ILO course, for example, I said that we need to have more sports facilities, including at the children’s centres during the tobacco harvests. This would help to attract more children and would stop them from working.

My dream is that child labour will be eliminated. There were so many footballs that I didn’t get to kick and many other experiences that I missed out on as a child. 

I am now married with two children. As a father, you always try to give your child what you didn't have, don't you? 

There were so many footballs that I didn’t get to kick and many other experiences that I missed out on as a child. I want my children to enjoy their childhood as much as possible and to fulfil their dreams.

Children should be able to take advantage of education, sports, art, and music - all the things that will surely awaken the potential in every one of them and give them the capacity to develop fully into adults.

Latest statistics, compiled in 2019, showed that 371,771 children, or 5.3% of Argentinian children between the ages of 5 and 15 were working. 

The ILO Offside project offers child labour awareness training to civil servants like Daniel, and other stakeholders working in Argentina’s agricultural areas.

The project is funded by the United States Department of Labor (USDOL).

An estimated 160 million children worldwide - almost one in ten - are engaged in child labour. 

Over the past few years, conflicts, crises and the COVID-19 pandemic, have plunged more families into poverty – and has forced millions more children into child labour. 

On World Day Against Child Labour, 12 June 2023, the ILO is calling for universal ratification of ILO Convention No. 138 on Minimum Age. This would provide all children with legal protection against all forms of child labour, alongside ILO Convention No. 182 on the Worst Forms of Child Labour, which was universally ratified in 2020.

World Day Against Child Labour – 12 June

2019 Findings on the Worst Forms of Child Labour: Argentina – USDOL report

Daniel Berruezo knows first-hand what child labour is. He worked from the age of seven in Argentina’s tobacco sector in the province of Salta. Now he is part of a regional effort to eliminate child labour through his work at Salta’s Ministry of Labour.

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