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The hidden truth about closed work visas
I’m angry!
I’m angry with the people, companies, and countries that allow unfair treatment to foreign workers with closed work visas.
You might think, ‘My country is different,’ ‘My employer is different.’
As a single human being with empathy, you might be different, but I bet your country and employer just aren’t.
I won’t dilly-dally and waste your time; I’ll cut to the chase.
Closed work visas need to be fixed. Not just failing the countries that issue them but betraying the very people they enlist for labour.
Disclaimer: I’m not making any allegation. I’ve been an immigrant for nearly 15 years and have lived in countries such as Ireland, New Zealand, and Canada. I simply share my experience regarding this complex reality and the stories of invisible humans (my friends & ex-colleagues).
When you hear ‘closed work visas,’ images of greener pastures, skyrocketing careers, and the coveted ‘American Dream’ (or whichever nation’s dream you fancy) might pop into your head.
I mean, why wouldn’t they?
That’s the sales pitch, after all. But I’m here to break the news to you because what immigrants are signing up for is a rollercoaster that is just as likely to leave you dizzy and disoriented as it is to lift you to new heights.
Imagine uprooting your life, leaving behind everything you know and love, all for a chance at ‘the dream.’
Now, visualize that dream shattering, fragment by fragment, because of a system designed to exploit you.
Closed work visas often dangle the carrot of a better life but leave you in a far worse state, physically, mentally, and emotionally (or all these three together).
If that’s what you think, then think again. It’s an illusion.
Here’s where life gets even more unfair.
You’ve done everything right, got the job, and life looks good — on paper.
Reality check: You and your co-worker do the same job but don’t take home the same pay.
Why?
Oh, you know, it’s just the fine print on your closed work visa. The system creates a hierarchy where your nationality, visa type, and even your entry channel can dictate your worth. It’s like a caste system, but nobody talks about it.
A friend once told me his pay slip had a different figure than his colleague’s for the same job. According to the Economic Policy Institute, workers on work visas earn less than their American counterparts.
Before coming to Canada, I applied for over 200 jobs — because it’s hard to get someone’s attention when you don’t have the right to work in the country.
Only 3 companies responded, and I started the interview process. One of them was fruitful and resulted in a job offer. They offered me 115K and minimal benefits. I know it sounds like a lot to many people, but in my field, it meant I was offered a position with 23% under its market value. So just because I’m an immigrant, I should just suck it up if I want to relocate.
What did I do?
I signed the contract, but it left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth.
That job didn’t work out for multiple reasons — story for another time, but you see the point, right? The system forces immigrants into accepting lower wages and poor conditions if they want to move countries.
My friend secured his dream job in the unlikeliest of places — Meetup.com.
No lawyer, no middle person, no gimmicks. Just a group of people he connected with.
So if you’re still hunting jobs and chasing ‘the dream,’ think outside the box and hang out with people outside LinkedIn and job boards.
A Forbes article highlighted that around 80% of all jobs are filled through networking, and 70% of the jobs aren’t even published, according to NPR.
You can’t leave your job without losing your visa, which effectively means you can’t leave your job without losing your new life.
This creates a vicious cycle of silent suffering.
People endure unsafe working conditions, unfair wages, and sometimes downright abuse.
And why?
Because the visa they hold limits them.
My friend came to New Zealand on a work visa supported by a small company. He wasn’t only underpaid by more than 30% of his peers but verbally abused by the owner.
He was cutting the inches on the measure, as we say in Hungarian, meaning he was counting the days he could apply for a resident visa and leave, but the pandemic hit, and every visa-related issue was up in the air. The country left thousands of people’s work permits untouched or extended them by another year or two without granting residency.
What did it mean to my friend?
More exploitation, more abuse from the employer for another couple of years.
When you’re on a closed work visa, you basically sign off your rights to humane treatment, and there’s no one you can turn to for help.
Sure, my friend’s got a visa, but at what cost?
The mental health toll on immigrants is a hidden line item on the cost of closed work visas.
These immigration laws have an unforgiving nature while expecting you to be on your best behaviour in the past, present, and future.
I met multiple talented, skilled individuals who couldn’t get their visas granted because of a mistake they made in the past.
They lost their dream because of a DUI at 19!
This system punishes people who made mistakes when their frontal lobe wasn’t even fully developed yet.
Having a ‘clean record’ isn’t a choice; it’s a prerequisite. It’s your key to a visa, a job, and ultimately, your life in a new country.
Your visa status isn’t just a permit; it’s a leash.
You can’t quit because your work visa is employer-specific. Switching jobs often involves a labyrinth of bureaucratic hurdles that jeopardize your status in the country.
Finding another company that supports your visa is time-consuming, expensive, and stressful. You also need to support yourself (and your family, too) while waiting for the paperwork, which can take up to a half year.
I don’t know if you’ve looked around how much things cost, but you could quickly exhaust your life savings while waiting for ‘the dream’ to happen.
Luck is relative.
Sure, we’re in a new country, soaking in new experiences.
But what about the silent toll it takes on us?
The limitations, the constraints, and the invisible glass walls that keep us from reaching our full potential?
It’s a vicious cycle, a hamster wheel that you can’t seem to escape because those years seem way longer than other years.
And the saddest part? We’re considered the ‘lucky’ ones.
What is the human cost of this labour?
Families separated, cultures disconnected, and individual freedom compromised — these are the prices we pay that no one talks about.
‘Dad, when are you coming back?’ — The question echoes in the hearts of many immigrants long after the phone call ends.
When I lived in New Zealand, one of my ex-colleagues from India had his family broken into fragments and scattered across borders. For him and his family, a once-a-year visit was a luxury; he had to plan around work commitments and visa restrictions. He missed his daughter’s first steps and his parents’ birthdays — moments forever lost.
He lived frugally with another ex-colleague, saving for his family and their future together.
While we, immigrants, are building a life abroad, another life — the one we left behind — is moving on without us. Friends, holidays, and traditions seem more like memories than lived experiences.
The result?
A disconnection from our own culture, a hole in the fabric of our identity.
Freedom — it’s not just a word; it’s a currency more valuable than any paycheck.
But how much of it do we actually have when bound by a closed work visa? Changing a job isn’t just a career move for us; it’s a gamble with our entire life.
Planning a holiday? We need to make sure it doesn’t mess up with our visa status.
Every decision comes with strings attached, pulling us away from the freedom we once took for granted.
Let’s not forget the ‘Velcro companion’ of many visa holders — anxiety.
Are immigrants more susceptible to stress-related disorders compared to their non-immigrant counterparts?
I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. With so much at stake, the weight of the ‘what-ifs’ is crushing sometimes.
Just because someone is abroad, it doesn’t mean they do well. They probably have a sad, untold story.
Imagine this!
The allure of a new beginning in a foreign land! The excitement of this has buzzed me 3 times already.
But as they say, every rose has its thorns. And this one comes with barbed wire you can’t see at first glance.
If you’re here reading this article, it means you care. I appreciate you for that.
Be kind and open next time you meet your colleague with a closed work visa. You don’t know how grim that person’s reality really is. The reality that often goes unnoticed and unspoken.
When legislation serves only the host country’s interests, it becomes a form of exploitation.
The employer holds all the cards; they can replace you in the blink of an eye, knowing so well that you’re trapped in a web of bureaucratic helplessness.
I’ve met people who’ve been crushed by this system.
I got out of it pretty okay, although I still have some unresolved issues with past situations and people who mistreated me just because they could treat me like that…and I need to let that go.
Understanding the situation isn’t enough; we also have to act.
Yes, you can act, too! By