Unions Are Important: the Factory Owners Listen to Us
My name is Jessmin Begum, I am 31 years old and I have been working in the garment industry for 15 years.
I have worked in six different factories in total. In those 15 years, I have seen many different labels. I have manufactured clothes for brands such as H&M, Gap, Walmart, S.Oliver, C&A, Zara. I first started working in the garment sector after completing my Higher Standard Certificate of education. A neighbour told me about a job in a garment factory; so I joined. In my first job I was a ‘helper’. That means I was cutting the threads from the seams of the clothing. I did that job for a month and then I was promoted to a seamstress. I worked in that factory for one year. Then I got a job at another factory where the salary was higher. I worked in that factory for the next nine years and earned 7700 Taka (85€/£62/$96) including overtime.
That factory was in an Export Processing Zone (EPZ). In the EPZ, a different labour law applies. The Government regulates it through an authority called BEBZA (Bangladesh Export Processing Zones Authority). My first job had been outside EPZ. You can tell the difference. They pay wages in a timely manner on the seventh day of the following month, they give regular weekend breaks and holiday pay.
The government ruled that each factory in the EPZ should have a Workers’ Welfare Committee. When it came to the election for that committee, my friends encouraged me to run. They made posters and banners. The committee is comprised of 12 members. When it came to the election of the chair, the other eleven didn’t want to take on that role, so I did it. The committee is elected every two years and I was re-elected twice.
My duty as chair was to meet with BEBZA. Sometimes they came to the factory, which meant I had to leave my work and go to meet them at the General Manager’s office.
The factory owner put me under pressure.
In order to make a good impression, the factory owners told the Authority that they could speak to me at any time. However, I was pressurised not to go by the factory owner, the middle management, my line manager and supervisors. So I asked the people at the BEBZA why they called on me during working hours as my manager did not want me to leave my work.
Before I explain what happened, I would like to tell you a bit more about the factory
The factory had five floors and on each floor there were 400-500 people, around 2500 workers in the building, out of which there were just 12 committee members appointed. We were all working on different floors and in different jobs. During lunch break, we would sit together and discuss peoples’ complaints. We gathered information. When BEBZA came, sometimes we all went to see them, but often I went alone to pass on the complaints.
I was the one who was speaking out.
The others didn’t do that as much. BEBZA used to listen to me. They usually came two to three times a year as a routine check up, and when the workers were protesting.
So, as I said, the factory owner pressured me not to leave work in order to go to these meetings. When the time came for the meeting, they would give me more work. If I normally had to complete 10 garments, they now gave me 15, which would be impossible to finish. So sometimes I couldn’t attend the meetings. If there were no committee representatives who could attend the meetings with BEBZA, they asked the factory owner to send other employees, so he would send a supervisor or one of his relatives.
Whenever I had the opportunity to pass on the workers’ complaints, BEBZA said they would look into the problem. But there was no action. No solution. The law in Bangladesh stipulates working hours from 8am to 5pm, with two hours of overtime from 5pm to 7pm. But the owner pressurised us to work four or five hours of overtime. But you know, we can’t go home every day at 10pm. First of all, there is a security issue for women. Then, when we go home, we still have to cook. At that time I was living with my mother. I was single and my mother cooked for me. But other workers needed to do all that alone, they had to take care of their children and they also had to sleep.
The Authority did not respond to our complaints. There was no action.
So the workers gathered together and wrote the following demands: higher wages, no more than two hours of overtime per day, no insults while working, no beatings and, most importantly, no termination of our employment because of the strike. The last point was particularly important to us, because otherwise they could just fire us.
As the chair, I had a certain amount of power. There were 2500 workers supporting me. The first strike was on 9 February 2003. We told the management and the police that we would continue our strike and our attacks if they did not meet our demands. So they signed.
During my time as chair, we held four protests in total. After the first protest they couldn’t fire me anymore, so they looked for other ways to get rid of me. I was bribed with 200,000 Taka (2200€/£1650/$2570) by the factory owner. He teased me, gave me a bundle of money and said sarcastically:
“Girl, you don’t know how much money is in here. Just take it and go.”
They wanted me to leave the factory because I talked too much. They knew that I had influence. They knew the risk. They knew that if I went to the Authority, they would listen to me. I did not accept the money.
During the last strike, I was four months pregnant. One day I was injured by brick which I blocked from hitting my body with my hand. Workers were throwing bricks inside the factory and the police were throwing them threw back. I finally stopped working at the factory when I gave birth to my baby because I had to breastfeed. I couldn’t be fired when I was pregnant of course, but I resigned because of the baby.
Afterwards I worked in another factory outside of the EPZ for one and a half years where I wasn’t paid on time. I joined the National Garment Workers Federation in 2008 where I work part-time as the Secretary for Women’s Affairs. Now I am in the NGWF I am letting people know about the law and their rights.
I go out on the road a lot and visit workers in their homes. I also work in a factory as a production reporter where I earn 15.000 Taka. At least if I lose my job at the factory, I will still have the job at NGWF .
Unions are important because they encourage the factory owners to listen to us.
If the owner has a tight shipping deadline, he will talk to the union members and say “can you help me out, can you work two more hours” and they will accept. So the conversation begins.
Translated from the original interview in German by Anna Holl which appeared in N21
Das ist mein Versprechen (in German)
Mein Name ist Arifa Sultana Anny. Ich bin 19 Jahre alt. 2 Jahre und sechs Monate lang habe ich in der Textilindustrie gearbeitet. Vor einem Monat verlor ich meinen Job, weil ich den Mund zu weit aufmachte.
Ich arbeitete sechs Tage die Woche in der Fabrik. Jeden Tag von acht in der Früh bis um fünf am Abend. An den meisten Tagen machte ich dazu noch Überstunden von fünf bis zehn am Abend. Dann war ich 14 Stunden in der Fabrik. Manchmal musste ich auch am Freitag arbeiten, also hatte ich keinen freien Tag in der Woche.
Ich stand jeden Tag um sechs Uhr morgens auf, bereitete mich vor und machte die täglichen Erledigungen. Ich musste kochen und das Haus in Stand halten. Um zwanzig vor acht ging ich zur Fabrik.
In der Fabrik war es eine Tortur. Es gab fünf Stockwerke und pro Stockwerk nur zwei Toiletten und die waren nicht einmal sauber. 400-500 Leute arbeiteten in der Fabrik. Es gab keinen Doktor, keine Kantine und keinen Gebetsraum. Wir stellten Kleidung für ZeroXposur (eine amerikanische Outdoormarke), Li and Fung (Supply Chain Manager aus Hong Kong, mit Kunden in Europa: Recherche folgt) und Dungafree her. Ich war in der Jacken-Produktion und mein Job war „Checker“. Nachdem die Jacken fertig genäht waren, war es meine Aufgabe, sie auf Fehler zu kontrollieren. Wenn ich einen Fehler fand, ging ich zu der Person, die diesen Arbeitsschritt gemacht hatte, damit sie den Fehler korrigierte. Für diesen Job bekam ich weniger Geld als die NäherInnen.
Ich wurde ständig unter Druck gesetzt
Wenn ich einen Fehler übersah und die VorarbeiterInnen fanden es heraus, sagten sie mir, dass ich meinen Job nicht gut mache. Wenn die VorarbeiterInnen einen Fehler fanden, ließen sie mich leiden. Sie strichen mir Stunden von meiner Anwesenheitsliste, für die ich dann nicht bezahlt wurde, obwohl ich gearbeitet hatte.
Eines Tages hörte ich von der National Garment Workers Federation (NGWF). Durch diese Föderation erfuhr ich von den Gewerkschaften. Also wollte ich eine Gewerkschaft in meiner Fabrik gründen. Dafür braucht man die Unterstützung von 30 Prozent der ArbeiterInnen.
Als ich das Thema zum ersten Mal ansprach und den KollegInnen erzählte, dass ich eine Gewerkschaft gründen wolle, hatten sie zuerst Angst vor Drohungen des Managers und Angst ihren Job zu verlieren. Ich arbeitete jeden Tag. Ich sprach die anderen ArbeiterInnen während der Mittagspause, nach der Arbeit und in ihren Häusern an. Und manchmal sagten die ArbeiterInnen: „Nein“. Ich erzählte ihnen wieder und wieder von der Gewerkschaft und ein „Nein“ wurde oft zu einem „Ja“.
Als die Fabrikbesitzer davon hörten, dass ich der NGWF beigetreten war und meine eigene Gewerkschaft starten wollte, begannen sie mich psychisch unter Druck zu setzen. Es begann damit, dass sie mir zu viel Arbeit gaben, und mir den Lohn kürzten.
Eines Tages rief mich der Qualitätsmanager in sein Büro und drohte mir, dass er mich rauswerfen würde. Er sagte: „Weißt du, wie wir es machen werden? Wir werden Kleidung bringen und die Nähte anschneiden und sagen: Das ist die Qualität, die du produziert hast.“ Sie sagten auch, dass ich mit meiner Gewerkschaftsarbeit aufhören müsse und wenn nicht, dass sie mit der Peinigung und dem Druck weitermachen würden. Sie drohten mir, dass ich nicht mehr dort wohnen könne, wo ich wohnte. Sie drohten, dass sie zu meinem Vermieter gehen würden und ihm sagen würden, er solle mich aus meinem Haus rauswerfen.
Die Besitzer und die anderen höheren Angestellten waren sich noch nicht ganz sicher, ob ich wirklich eine Gewerkschaft gründen würde. Natürlich bestätigte ich ihren Verdacht nicht. Und ich stimmte auch nicht zu, damit aufzuhören. Ich hatte nämlich schon die Unterstützung von 100 Arbeitern für die Gewerkschaft. Ich brauchte nur noch fünfzig mehr, um die 30 Prozent zu erreichen.
Arifa Sultana and a former co-worker Anna show the factory (image: Shamsina Zaman)
Die Fabrik in der ich gearbeitet habe, heißt Elite Garments und der Besitzer hat eine zweite Fabrik, die Excel heißt.
Eines Tages holte mich der Qualitätsmanager ins „Chamber“, den Raum der Vorarbeiter und der anderen höheren Angestellten. Er sagte mir, dass er mich in die andere Fabrik versetzen würde. Ich wollte aber nicht dorthin versetzt werden, weil ich mit der Gründung der Gewerkschaft in meiner Fabrik schon begonnen hatte. All die Arbeit wäre umsonst gewesen.
Es kam soweit, dass der Qualitätsmanager sagte, ich solle darum betteln nicht in die andere Fabrik versetzt zu werden, indem ich seine Füße halte. Drei oder vier Leute waren im gleichen Raum und genossen die Show. Vor ihren Augen hielt ich die Füße des Managers umfasst. Alle machten Fotos. Sie lachten mich aus, kritisierten mich, beschimpften mich. Die Arbeit in der Fabrik ging weiter. Niemand außerhalb des Zimmers wusste, was passiert war. Ich machte das drei Stunden lang. Danach ließen sie mich mit der Warnung gehen, die Gewerkschaft nicht zu gründen.Bis zu diesem Tag wusste sie aber immer noch nicht hundertprozentig, ob ich wirklich eine Gewerkschaft gründen würde.
Nach diesem Vorfall wusste ich natürlich, dass ich nicht die Einzige war, die in der Fabrik litt. Also konnte ich nicht aufhören. Ich hatte schon 100 Leute, die mich unterstützten. Also ging ich vor dem Manager auf die Knie, damit die Gewerkschaft Wirklichkeit werden konnte.
Warum hätte ich aufhören sollen? Ich war schon so weit gekommen.
Später bekam ich die fehlenden 50 Unterschriften. Ich hatte ein Formular, auf dem ich die Unterschriften der ArbeiterInnen sammelte. Das bekam ich von der NGWF. Als ich die 150 Unterschriften hatte, brachte ich das Formular zur NGWF und von dort ging es zur Bestätigung zum Labour Office der Regierung. Als der Qualitätsmanager davon hörte, nahmen die Feindseligkeiten zu. Es gab noch mehr Druck. Man beschimpfte mich bei der Arbeit. Und eines Tages zwangen sie mich, ein weißes Papier zu unterschreiben. So warfen sie mich aus der Fabrik. Ich war arbeitslos.
Aber das Gewerkschafts-Formular war schon eingereicht worden. Darum kamen die Leute vom Labour Office zur Kontrolle in die Fabrik. Sie wollten die Gewerkschaft bestätigen. Von den 150 Unterschriften hatte ich zehn Leute für ein Komitee ausgewählt. Von diesen zehn waren fünf schon gefeuert worden und der Rest hatte zu viel Angst, irgendetwas zu sagen. Sie sprachen nicht. Die Regierungsleute fragten den Qualitätsmanager und den Produktionsmanager, was mit den fünf anderen Arbeitern geschehen war. Sie antworteten, dass die fünf auf eigenen Wunsch gegangen waren. Und die Regierungsleute glaubten ihnen. Sie wusste genau von der NGWF, dass die Arbeiter gefeuert worden waren, aber sie glaubten den Managern. Also wurde die Gewerkschaft bei dieser Kontrolle abgelehnt. Ich glaube, die Leute vom Labour Office unterstützten eher die Fabrikbesitzer als die Gewerkschaften. Man weiß es nicht. Vielleicht wurden sie bestochen?
Jetzt gibt es keine Gewerkschaft in der „Elite Garments“-Fabrik, weil ich dort nicht mehr arbeite. Das alles passierte vor einem Monat. Für den letzten Monat bekam ich keinen Lohn.
Ich hatte in der Textilindustrie zu arbeiten begonnen, weil mein Vater krank wurde. Damals ging ich in die 10. Klasse, zwei Jahre vor dem Abschluss. Er war sehr krank. Also war es an der Zeit für mich, einen Job zu finden. Ohne Abschluss bekam ich keinen guten Job. Ein Nachbar erzählte mir von der Textilfabrik in der Gegend. Also bewarb ich mich dort und bekam den Job. Es war angenehm für mich. Einen besseren Job fand ich nicht.
Als ich arbeitete, verdiente ich 6600 Taka (75€) pro Monat ohne Überstunden und 1500-2000 (ca.22€) für die Überstunden. Ich wohne bei meinen Eltern mit drei Geschwistern. Wir wohnen gemeinsam in diesem Zimmer in Kilga in Dhaka. Wir kochen auf den Gaskochern von den zwei Security Guards, die das Gebäude dort vorne auf der Straße bewachen. Wir teilen die Toilette mit fünf anderen Familien.
Meine drei Schwestern gehen in die Schule. Vorher konnte ich ihre Schulgebühren mit meinem Gehalt zahlen. Das waren pro Monat 2000 Taka. Dieses Zimmer kostet uns 3000 Taka im Monat. Meine Mutter arbeitet als Haushaltshilfe und verdient damit 3500 Taka. Mein Vater kann nicht arbeiten, weil er krank ist. Aber auch als ich noch Arbeit hatte, reichte der Lohn nicht aus, weil ich das ganze Geld für unser Essen, die Miete und die Schulgebühren ausgeben musste. Wenn jemand krank wurde, mussten wir einen Kredit aufnehmen. Es war nie genug.
Arifas father welcomes Anna in their small house. (Image: Shamsina Zaman)
Meine Mutter ist die einzige, die jetzt Geld verdient. Nachdem ich meinen Job verloren habe, haben wir einen Kredit von 15.000 Taka aufgenommen. In einem halben Jahr muss ich fast 20.000 Taka zurückzahlen.
Die Fabrikbesitzer werden reicher und reicher, aber mit meinem Lohn kam ich nirgendwo hin. Wenn das Gehalt für die Arbeit in der Textilfabrik 15.000 Taka wäre, wenn die Leute diesen Lohn bezahlen könnten, dann könnte ich in Ruhe und befreit leben und wäre nicht immer unter Zeitdruck, um alles zu zahlen.
Arifa Sultana and her little sister. (Image: Shamsina Zaman)
Ich will nicht mehr in einer Fabrik arbeiten. Ich versuche einen anderen Job zu finden. Wenn das nicht klappt, muss ich doch wieder in einer Fabrik anfangen. Und dann werde ich trotzdem nicht leise sein. Ich muss wieder protestieren. Ich bin so. Als ich von der Gewerkschaft NGWF erfuhr, war ich es, die ihnen Fragen stellte. Es gibt zwei Arten von Menschen: diejenigen, die Korruption sehen und akzeptieren und die anderen, die sie nicht mögen und bekämpfen. Ich gehöre zu Letzteren.
Zuallererst bin ich stolz darauf, Kleidung zu machen, die Menschen überall auf der Welt und im Westen tragen können. Es macht mich stolz, dass entwickelte Länder unsere Kleidung kaufen. Ich bin stolz, dass Du sie trägst.
Gleichzeitig frage ich mich aber auch, warum die westlichen Länder uns keinen anständigen Lohn für unsere Arbeit bezahlen. Warum sie uns nicht unterstützen? Ich will, dass die Zwischenhändler den Fabriken mehr für unsere Kleidung zahlen, damit die Fabrikbesitzer uns ArbeiterInnen besser bezahlen können.
Für Bangladesch ist die Textilindustrie sehr wichtig und mit dieser Industrie können wir die Lage unseres Landes verbessern. Dafür brauchen wir die Hilfe der ausländischen Leute, die unsere Kleidung kaufen. Ich verspreche im Gegenzug, die Kleidung so gut wie möglich zu machen.
You can follow Anna Holl’s Travels to Discover #whomademyclothes on our blog and on Twitterhollanna Anna is reporting in Bangladesh for N21 who have a focus on textile for the next 4 weeks. Http://n21.press/schlagwort/textil/
My name is Arifa Sultana Anny. I am 19 years old. I have worked in the garment industry for two years and six months. A month ago I lost my job because I opened my mouth too wide.
I worked six days a week at the factory. Every day from 8am until 5pm. On most days, I worked overtime from 5pm to 10pm as well. Then I would be in the factory for 14 hours. Sometimes I also had to work on a Friday, so I did not have a day off during the week.
I got up every day at 6am, got ready and did the daily errands. I had to cook and keep the house clean. At 7.40am I went to the factory.
In the factory, it was an ordeal. There were five floors and each floor only had two toilets which were not even clean. 400-500 people were working in the factory. There was no doctor, no canteen and no prayer room. We supplied clothes to brands such as ZeroXposur (American outdoor brand) and Li and Fung (a $20 billion global sourcing firm that supplies 40% of all apparel sold in the US). I was working on the production of jackets and my job was a Checker. After the jackets had been sewn, it was my task to check for errors. If I found a mistake, I went to the person who had worked on that stage of the garment so that they could correct the mistake. For this job I got paid less than the seamstresses.
I was constantly put under pressure
If I overlooked a mistake and the line managers discovered it, they would tell me that I’m not doing my job well. If the line managers found a mistake, they made me suffer. They docked hours from my attendance record for which I was not paid, even though I had worked.
One day I heard about the National Garment Workers Federation (NGWF) and through them I learned about labour unions. So I wanted to form a labour union in my factory. To do this, you need the support of 30% of the workers.
When I raised the subject for the first time and my colleagues heard that I wanted to start a union, they initially feared threats from their manager and were afraid of losing their jobs. I worked every day. I spoke to the other workers during their lunch hour, after work and in their homes. And sometimes the workers said “no” so I explained to them again why we needed to form a labour union and often that no became a yes.
When the factory owners heard that I had joined the NGWF and wanted to start my own union, they began to put me under psychological pressure. It started with them giving me too much work and then sometimes they docked my wage.
One day I received a message to see the Quality Manager in his office who threatened to throw me out.
He said: Do you know how we will do it? We will bring clothes and cut the seams and say this is the quality that you have produced.
They said that I had to give up on the idea of a union and, if not, they would carry on with the torture and pressure. They threatened that I could no longer live in my home. They threatened to go to my landlord and tell him to throw me out.
The owners and other senior staff were not quite sure if I would really form a union. Of course, I did not confirm their suspicions. But I did not agree to stop it. I had the support of 100 workers for the union. I needed only fifty more to reach the required 30%.
Arifa Sultana and a former co-worker show Anna Holl show factory. Photo: Anna Holl
The factory where I worked was called Elite Garments and the owner has a second factory called Excel.
One day the Quality Manager took me into the “Chamber” the room of the foreman and other senior managers. He told me that he would relocate me to the other factory. However, I did not want to be relocated because I had already started establishing the union within my factory. All the work would have been in vain.
It came to a point where the Quality Manager said I should beg before his feet not to be transferred. Three or four people were in the same room and enjoyed the show. Before their eyes, I went on my knees and held the feet of the manager. They all took pictures. They laughed at me, criticised me, insulted me. The work in the factory went on. No one outside the room knew what had happened. I did that for three hours. Then they let me go with a warning not to start the union. However, up until this point they still did not know one hundred percent if I would really form a union.
After this incident I knew, of course, that I was not the only one who suffered in the factory. So I could not stop. I had 100 people who supported me. I had begged on my knees to the manager so that the union could become a reality.
Why should I give up after I had come this far?
Later I got the missing 50 signatures. I had a form on which I collected the signatures of the workers which I got from the NGWF. When I had the 150 signatures, I brought the form to the NGWF and from there it went for confirmation to the Labour Office of the Government. When the Quality Manager heard about it the hostility increased. There was even more pressure. They insulted me at work. Then one day they took me by force to sign on a sheet of white paper. Then they threw me out of the factory. I was unemployed.
But the form to set up a labour union was already submitted. That is why people from the Labour Office came to the factory; they wanted to confirm the union. Of the 150 signatures, I had selected ten people for a committee. Five of the ten had already been fired and the rest were too scared to say anything. They did not speak. The government representatives asked the Quality Manager and the Production Manager what had happened to the five workers. They replied that the five had left of their own accord. And the government represenatives believed them. They knew from the NGWF that the workers had been fired, but they decided to believe the managers, and so the union was rejected. It seems the people from the Labour Office support factory owners rather than labour unions. We do not know, maybe they were bribed.
Now there is no trade union at the Elite factory because I no longer work there. This all happened a month ago. For the last month, I have received no income.
I had begun to work in the textile industry because my father was ill. When I entered 10th grade, two years before graduation, he became very ill, so it was time for me to find a job. Obviously I did not get a good job. A neighbour told me about a textile factory in the area, so I applied there and I got the job. It was ok for me. I didn’t find a better job.
When I worked, I earned 6600 Taka (75 € or £55) excluding overtime and from 1500 to 2000 (about 22 € or £16) for the overtime. I live with my parents and my three siblings. We live together in one room in Kilga, Dhaka. We cook on the gas stoves of two security guards who guard the building across the street. We share the toilet with five other families.
My three sisters go to school. Before I could pay their school fees with my salary – that was 2000 taka per month (22 € or £16). This room cost us 3,000 taka (33 € or £25) a month. My mother works as a maid and earns 3,500 taka (40€ or £29). My father can not work because he is ill. Even when I was working, the salary was not enough because I had to spend all the money on food, rent and school fees. If someone got sick, we had to take out a loan. It was never enough.
Arifas father welcomes Anna Holl in their small house. Photo: Shamsina Zaman
My mother is the only person who earns money now. After I lost my job, we had taken out a loan of 15000 taka (170€ or £125). In six months, I have to pay back nearly 20000 Taka (€227 or £167).
The factory owners become richer and richer, but with my salary I was not going anywhere. If I could earn 15000 taka (170€ or £125) a month for working in a garment factory, then I could live in peace and would not always be under pressure to pay bills.
Arifa Sultana and her little sister. Photo: Shamsina Zaman
I do not want to work in a factory. I’m trying to find another job but otherwise I will have to start working in a factory again. And I will still not be quiet. I must protest again. I am that kind of person. When I learned about the NGWF, I was the one who asked them questions. There are two kinds of people: those who see and accept corruption and the others who do not like it and fight it. I belong to the latter group.
I am proud to make clothes that people can wear anywhere in the world and in the West. It makes me proud that developed countries buy our clothes. I am so proud that you wear them.
At the same time, I also wonder why the Western countries do not pay us a decent wage for our work? Why don’t they support us? I want the middlemen to pay more to the factory for our clothes so the factory owners can pay more to the workers.
In Bangladesh, the textile industry is very important and with this industry we can improve the situation in our country. For this to happen, we need the help of the foreign people who buy our clothes. In return, I promise to make your clothes to the highest possible standard.
This is my promise.
You can follow Anna Holl’s travels to discover #whomademyclothes on our blog and on Twitter @hollanna Anna is reporting in Bangladesh for N21 who have a focus on textiles for the next 4 weeks. http://n21.press/schlagwort/textil/
I Am Always Dreaming: One Survivor’s Inspiring Story
The ethos of No. 41 is simple: empowering one person can make an incredible impact.
Since 2012, No. 41 has been inspiring and enabling women in Gisenyi, Rwanda to better their lives and community. It began with a group of women from the Noel Orphanage and a lesson on how to sew bags. Each bag means “no hunger for one:” the purchase of one bag funds one child’s school meals for an entire year. So far, profits from the bags have helped provide 1,200 children and 36 teachers with hot, healthy lunches.
No. 41 also provides 30 women artisans with a sustainable income which then allows 8 mothers to feed their 12 children, and provides jobs for 4 previously unemployed men to prepare school meals. In addition, 19 of 20 women from the orphanage are now attending a university. Through their work at No. 41, these women continue to make a difference in their own and in other people’s lives.
We had the chance to interview one of No. 41’s survivor artisans, Jeanette, about her life, her experience working for No.41, and her dreams for the future.
Where were born?
I was born in The Democratic Republic of Congo in 1987. I am from Rwanda, though I was born in Congo, my parents are Rwandese and had been living in Congo as refugees since 1959. We came back to Rwanda in 1995.
Tell us about your family:
I am a widow with two children, ages 10 and 7 years. I still have both of my parents, one brother and two sisters.
Were you able to go to school?
I studied through Senior 2 (8th grade) until I became pregnant.
How do you feel when you’re working?
I feel very happy when I am working. First, I know that I am lucky to have a job when there are many people who don’t. Working allows me to care for my family and solve many of our problems. Additionally, I am very proud that my works also provides food and encouragement to other members of my community.
What is your favorite thing to make?
My favorite thing to make is bags. I enjoy learning the different styles and techniques. I like bright colors, particularly pink. I like them because when I wear them and they become dirty, I know it immediately, and I can clean them.
What inspires you in your work and/or your life?
Learning inspires me. I like making new things and making them well. I feel good when I hear from others that we (No.41) are making the new and good things.
How has economic independence impacted your life?
I feel comfortable and capable to be able to take care of my money and myself.
What are your dreams?
Oh, (laughs) I have many dreams! I am always dreaming! In 2012, No.41 asked me about my dreams, and I said I wanted to be a driver; today, I have now achieved that by completing driving school. I want to be a good mother and to look after my children very well. I want to help others. I need to own a car, and I would like to build a house.
What is a story you like to tell about your life?
I would like for people to know about my brother and his love for me. Even though I wasn’t able to succeed in secondary school, my brother loved me so much and never left me alone. During that time, I learned about God’s plan for me and it built me and gave me strength to continue with my life. I will succeed in my dreams and make my brother proud.
No.41 employs 20 women and men earning a sustainable income. They donate 100% of the profits from the sale of their items to fund a feeding program at a local school. Eating a hot, healthy lunch, daily, ensures that the nearly 1,200 students are able to get a solid education and move confidently into whatever the future holds for them. Learn more about No. 41 here.
This story is reposted with the permission of To The Market. To The Market | Survivor-made Goods combines the powers of commerce and storytelling to empower the world’s most courageous survivor populations in the belief that resilience is more powerful than suffering. Read more about their work and buy survivor-made goods here
The Tripty Project: Benefitting Communities, Culture and Environment in Bangladesh
Currently, markets are dominated by a Fast Fashion model that creates waste and often mistreats human beings in the drive for cheap, disposable clothing. Tripty began with inspiration to take the heritage and skill of Bangladesh and change that model.
We wanted to create a fashion brand that benefits communities, culture and environment and rethinks the way international products are created in developing countries. By combining traditional weaving, stitching and dyeing techniques with innovative and sustainable materials such as pineapple fiber it is possible to create products that are both relevant and timeless. An ethical supply chain is within reach.
The Tripty Project is a Slow Fashion brand based in Bangladesh and Oakland, CA. You can support The Tripty Project’s Kickstarter Campaign here
After Tesco’s comprehensive answer to N4Mummy‘s question about who makes their school uniforms #whomademyclothes – Tesco Talks we asked whether Aldi would respond with information about who makes their £4 school uniforms, apparently the cheapest available in the UK.
Zoe Hitchen just got in touch to say that she had tweeted Aldi to ask #whomademyclothes and has just received a response.
Good afternoon Zoe
I am writing to you in response to your recent contact with our Social Media team.
As part of ALDI’s Supplier Standards, suppliers are required to tell us which production facilities are making our products. We promote workplace practices and conditions that are safe, fair and legal for all those involved in making our products and we closely monitor production facilities to ensure compliance. We continue to work with our suppliers to uphold ethical standards and seek improvements if ever required.
As a responsible business, ALDI are committed to ensuring the human rights of workers in our supply chains are respected. We work with our business partners to adhere to International Labour Organisation (ILO) and United Nations (UN) Conventions and/ or by national law, whichever is most stringent.
All suppliers of our ‘Back to School’ range comply with ALDI’s Supplier Standards. These are included as part of our contractual Terms and Conditions, which all suppliers are required to sign prior to entering into business with us. Our Supplier Standards reflect our commitment to human rights and fair labour standards and are based upon the following:
The UN Universal Declaration of Human Rights
The UN Convention on the Rights of the Child
The UN Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women
The ILO Conventions
The OECD Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises.
We hope this reassures you that we are committed to ethical sourcing throughout our supply chain.
The question Who Made My Clothes? means that we want to see the people in Aldi’s supply chain, the faces of the people making your school uniform. Policy and commitment is a good start, but it doesn’t answer Zoe’s question. Answering the question #whomademyclothes requires transparency, and this implies honesty, openness, communication and accountability. We want to know that you are committed to transparency in practice, not just in principle.
What would we like Aldi to do?
Tesco have shown us the people who make their school uniforms; can Aldi do the same?
On our Brands page, there is a download pack detailing all of the ways in which brands and retailers can be more transparent. These include
To find out more about transparency in the fashion supply chain and why it is so important, please read the Transparency page on our website.
Tesco may not be the first brand that comes to mind when you consider ethical trading. However their F&F clothing range aims to deliver “great products at great prices from factories that (they) are proud of”, and they claim that they ‘want to be a force for change in both reducing our social and environmental impact’. But when a your child’s school polo shirt costs just £2.50 for 2, you do wonder what corners are cut to achieve the incredibly low price.
Since the tragedy of the Rana Plaza, working conditions in Bangladesh’s clothing factories have been put under scrutiny. We, the consumers, have been forced to consider #whomademyclothes? Tesco’s shiny corporate website naturally says all the things that we want to hear. So, in an attempt to dig deeper and find out what Tesco is actually doing, I spoke to Dani Baker, Corporate Responsibility Manager of F&F here in the UK, and Mashuda Begum, Senior Manager of Responsible Sourcing, working on the ground in Bangladesh.
Q: What practical steps is Tesco taking to improve working conditions in Bangladesh? Dani: We are committed to ensure that anyone who supplies any products to F&F has the best possible condition for their workers. We understand that this cannot be done from afar, but by working in direct partnership with all our suppliers, which is why we have people around the world working on the ground. In Bangladesh we have a team of about 60 people who not only check things like the fire and safety standards of factories, but also make sure that corners are not cut. So that the factories are a good place to be with staff being paid a decent wage, on time and wider social economic issues are being addressed – like ensuring that their children can go to school.
We have also been proud to support a number of initiatives, including programmes like the Benefits for Business and Working (BBW) training, run by Impactt, since 2010. Through this scheme, we have seen real improvements in factories as they have looked at ways to not only to improve the efficiency of the production line and the quality of the work, but also at human resources, communication and worker welfare. The results have been amazing in providing workers with reduced hours, better pay and benefits. Another project, Phulki, is a women’s empowerment scheme which provides crèches for female workers so they have somewhere safe to leave their children whilst they work- helping to protect them from the possible dangers of drowning, sexual abuse or even trafficking.
All of the factories we use have regular independent audits. We don’t just take the audit results at face value, our team on the ground ensure a more long-term collaborative approach; this includes a number of interventions such as running interactive workshops with our factories, so we can work with them on problems that arise, and support them running their factory safely and legally.
Q: That’s great that Tesco is regularly in the factories. But, how do you know that what they show you truly reflects everyday practice? Dani: This is why it is important to us that we build up long-term collaborative partnerships with our suppliers, so we can have a real insight into their everyday practices. The majority of the factories we use, we have worked with for over five years. However, the product is also a good indicator as to whether everything is OK in the factories. We regularly check the quality and if there are any persistent issues, this tends to flag up that there may be a problem.
Q: Your website states that your team in Bangladesh are there to ‘build relationships and to ensure decent working standards.’ But what does that mean in practice? Mashuda: It means providing a safe and hygienic working environment where adequate steps have been taken to prevent fire related, machine and safety accidents. Workers receive regular and recorded health and safety training, and this training will be repeated for new or reassigned workers. We also mandate that workers should have access to clean toilet facilities and to potable water, and, if appropriate, sanitary facilities for food storage shall be provided. Accommodation, where provided, should be clean, safe, and meet the basic needs of the workers.
Q: What are some of the challenges of implementing this in Bangladesh? Dani:Hartals occur relatively regularly and sometimes are violent; roads are often blocked off which can mean that certain parts of the capital can get cut off. This is difficult not just for F&F and our employees in Dhaka, but also for the factories. Products and materials that need to be received by the factories in order for their workforce to make an order can be delayed. The workforce whose role it is to make the product could be sitting and waiting for deliveries to arrive for days and this can ultimately lead to longer working days, when they finally arrive. Factory training programmes, meetings and visits – no matter how important – must be put on hold and rescheduled.
We have also be working to help some factory owners understand that cutting corners doesn’t make sense in the long run. The short term gain of not providing workers with basic safety equipment is likely to have a long-term detrimental effect on their business and workers and just doesn’t make sense. It has also been a challenge for them to see us and the BBW as part of the process and fellow collaborators and not just seen as external people in their factory. In some cases it has been a more effective process to empower the workforce to initiate change with some factory owners.
Q: As documented in The True Cost movie, there is clearly an issue in Bangladesh of workers not having the right to collective bargaining with factory owners. How does Tesco use their influence on factory owners to persuade them it is worth their while improving conditions for the workers? Mashuda: Tesco requires that all factories that we use in Bangladesh must have a Workers Participatory Committee formed through an election process, to ensure the workers’ rights and benefits. During our regular audits we monitor whether this has been in place and it is viewed as a violation of law if the factory doesn’t comply, which we follow up until this criteria has been met.
Q: What social enterprise work are you doing in Bangladesh? Dani: Studies have shown that children, in the developing world, who go to school in uniform perform better in tests and have lower rates of absenteeism. This year we are donating 20,000 school uniforms in Bangladesh as part of our Buy One, Give One scheme. When a customer buys an item from the Buy One, Give One range we will donate an entire uniform. So as our polo shirts are made in Bangladesh for every pack bought we donate a uniform to a child there.
Blog kindly reproduced with permission from N4Mummy
Why Should Fashion Be Made To Last?
It’s not a crime to wear the same outfit time after time. It’s the only way to take a stand against the culture of throwaway fashion that is becoming so prevalent.
It may sound preachy but, as consumers, I believe it is our responsibility to know where our clothes are made. The millions who slave away in places like China, Bangladesh and India, churning out goods for big fashion corporations, are often so badly underpaid that they are unable to afford basic living expenses.
It is not just unethical working conditions that are the problem with the modern fast fashion trend. Even if you are indifferent to what goes on thousands of miles away from you, it is also you, the consumer, who suffers as a result. Only in 2012, Greenpeace released their report “Toxic Threads: The Big Fashion Stitch-Up”, which revealed many facilities making cheap clothing for the major high street fashion payers were using hazardous chemicals.
And then there’s the impact on the environment. Continuing to manufacture clothes that are worn only a few times is a huge waste of natural resources. As consumers, if we choose to throw away our clothes after one season that has a big impact on our carbon and water footprints.
When I founded Tom Cridland, my menswear brand, we focused for our first year only on making trousers. When deciding on a second garment to add to my collection, I knew I wanted to create something that was more than simply an item of clothing, but that would lead an industry trend towards protecting our natural resources by making truly durable clothing.
The 30 Year Sweatshirt is a cry for sustainability in the fashion industry. I’ve been so touched by the reaction from the international media to the campaign and I have faith that, together, we can tackle this important issue.
Bio:
Tom Cridland, 24, is the founder of his eponymous menswear brand, famous for their signature trousers. He has just launched the 30 Year Sweatshirt as a Kickstarter project.
Yesterday, in the small town of Gualaceo, Azuay, in Ecuador, the art of ikat weaving was officially recognised by UNESCO as intangible cultural heritage.
Intangible Cultural Heritage is a term used for knowledge, traditions and rituals which permeate the everyday life of a community, are passed down through generations and form an intrinsic part of their identity and culture. The skills are essential to the cultural identity of the community and the cloth is both practical and richly imbued with symbolic meaning.
Other forms of cultural expression which have already received this designation include Chinese acupuncture, Spanish Flamenco and, also in Ecuador, the art of Panama hat weaving. Whilst Material Cultural Heritage is clearly visible, the concept of Intangible Cultural Heritage is harder to understand as it embodies an art or a skill of great value to the country, often one in urgent need of safeguarding. Ikat weaving is a skill which is sadly in danger of extinction if steps are not taken to preserve it, and so its designation by UNESCO is hopefully a step to greater recognition of its importance nationally, as well as internationally.
Ikat is a Malay-Indonesian term, which is common to many cultures around the world, including Argentina, Bolivia, Ecuador, Guatemala and Mexico. Ikat is a resist technique where a resist to the dye, traditionally cabuya cactus fibre in Ecuador, is tightly wrapped around the warp before dyeing the yarn to create a pattern that will appear later during the weaving. It is a rare technique as the pattern needs to be held in the weavers head to ensure that the wrapped parts of the warp will translate into the correct pattern on the loom.
In the 25 years since I first visited Ecuador, natural dyes have all but died out in the country. On my first trip it was normal to see people dyeing wool with cochineal, indigo or nogal (walnuts). On my last visit to Gualaceo, I was delighted to see that a variety of natural dyes were still being used by the ikat weavers.
Traditional backstrap looms are still used where the weaver sits on the floor, although for textiles over 75cm in width, a foot pedal loom is often used. The pedal loom I saw in Gualaceo was cleverly constructed from old bicycle wheels!
Ikat is extremely labour intensive and requires considerable experience to memorise the complex patterns which need to be tied into the warp and which, when combined with the weft, magically transform into a pattern. According to one weaver, there are only around 15 ikat weavers left in the Gualaceo region.
In Ecuador, it is commonly known as a macana and the shawls which have long been a part of traditional dress are called Paños de Gualaceo. For centuries, the macana or paño de Gualaceo has been a key element in the traditional dress of the women in Azuay province, alongside the Panama hat, an embroidered blouse and two skirts, including an undergarment whose lower embroidered edge shows underneath the outer pleated skirt. Increasingly, I see a generational divide. In Sigsig where we work, very few young women wear traditional dress.
The three weavers pictured below are part of our Panama hat weaving association. I bought a whole roast pig for our group of 160 weavers in celebration of Panama hats being recognised by UNESCO as Intangible Cultural Heritage in December 2012.
The ikat shawl is not only beautiful and part of the rich textile heritage of the region, it is also an incredibly practical accessory. Women use it to carry their purchases home from market, or they carry their baby on their back. This mother, part of Pachacuti’s weaving association, is selecting straw for weaving her hats for the following week whilst keeping her child secure on her back.
One significant change in men’s dress in Ecuador over the past 50 years has been the disappearance of ikat ponchos, echoing the disappearance of this traditional textile technique. In the 1940s both wool and cotton ikat ponchos were worn in a traditional indigo blue and white. In the late early ’90s, indigenous Otavalan men dress underwent a Western revolution, partly due to the money pouring into the region as a result of the popularity of Ecuadorian chunky knitwear. With more disposable income, many men opted to exchange their white pleated shirt, white cotton trousers, alpargata shoes, poncho and felt hat, for jeans, trainers and a T-Shirt.
In addition to the near disappearance of ikat in traditional dress in Ecuador, its popularity has declined globally due to the prevalence on the high street of cheaper clothing with an ikat print. These garments are often called ikat by the brands who do not distinguish between a piece of cloth taking hours to weave by hand and embodying an incredible degree of skill and knowledge and a piece of cloth woven on an industrial machine.
Skirt by J Crew, Bikini by Matthew Williamson, Skirt by Topshop
In an article on cultural appropriation Refinery 29 recommends:
So, instead of going to a mall store and paying $7 for a cheap knock-off, go to the source. Know the story behind the piece, know the artist, what tribe they’re from, why the specific designs were used. It puts the power back in the hands of the marginalized group. Importantly, buying from a Native person or company also economically benefits the artist and the tribe, rather than a company that’s knocking off their designs.
In other word, make sure you know #whomademyclothes. Buy clothing with integrity, with a story, with a face behind it.
Hopefully the new UNESCO recognition will help to safeguard this dying skill and ensure it plays a part in the future textile heritage of Ecuador.
To find out more about intangible cultural heritage in need of safeguarding, visit UNESCO .
We want to remove the stigma of ‘Made in Bangladesh’
Alf-Tobias Zahn interviews Anna Troupe, Head of Fashion Design and Technology at BGMEA, Bangladesh.
Alf: It is more than a pleasure having this time with you, Anna. You are new Head of the Fashion Design and Technology department at BGMEA University of Fashion and Technology. In this position you are trying to unite education with industry to advance design skills and sustainability know-how in Bangladesh. How are you connected with Fashion Revolution Day and the project Trace my Fashion?
Anna: I’m involved in Fashion Revolution Day and the Trace my Fashion project because Bangladesh’s activities for this event centered on the design students in my department and their engagement with industry sustainability leaders to learn about best practices. My role was to organize and guide them while interfacing with industry stakeholders on this initiative as a Communications Head and Strategic Partner.
“All the momentum for vital change in the garment sector is here”
Alf: How long have you been in Bangladesh – and why Bangladesh?
Anna: I’ve been here eight months and the short reason why is that all the momentum for vital change in the garment sector is here, because of Bangladesh’s significance as the second largest garments exporter and the site of the worst disaster in garment industry history.
The longer, more personal story of why I came to Bangladesh is that I entered and won a fabric design competition in 2011 that was created to support the weaving communities in the Sirajganj district of Bangladesh. Just a few months before I had very randomly discovered Muhammad Yunus’s book, Creating a World without Poverty, and decided he was my new hero and role model. After I won the fabric competition, I learned that Yunus was behind it, which was so cool because the fabric design had to symbolize “hope” and I had to include an essay explaining the symbolism. To realize that my new hero had now read my personal philosophy of hope, and liked it, really meant something to me – it felt like destiny I guess, so I took it seriously.
Then I discovered that I had just relocated to the vicinity of the top textiles program in the world, NCSU College of Textiles, so I applied to do my masters there. And within a month of starting my studies, some funding for sustainability research became available and they hired me to focus on this. But my advisor believed helping companies go green was the greater concern while I suspected that companies were jumping on the eco-friendly bandwagon to tap the “green market” while neglecting the human capital in their supply chains. Then Rana Plaza happened and settled the debate.
Meanwhile I had met Yunus at a conference he gave in North Carolina and struck up a friendship – he was very supportive and responsive to me. The day of the Rana Plaza trageday, I was in statistics class in North Carolina when I saw the news on my phone that day. The day after the collapse, I wrote Yunus, offering my condolences and asking to help and he invited me to come to Bangladesh for Social Business Day 2013. At that event I met philanthropists who appreciated what I was doing and encouraged me to return the following year. I almost didn’t do it because I’d graduated and felt the pressure to find a “real job” but luckily I came to my senses at the last minute, flew out, had delayed flights the whole way, took 4 days to arrive, missed the Social Business Day 2014 conference, but managed to connect with the philanthropists and secure funding to relocate to Dhaka and continue my research.
While visiting I learned about the need for design faculty at BUFT and was dubious because I’d never envisioned myself as a teacher. But I met with them anyway and they were so supportive and willing to let me work part-time that I decided it would be wise to get firsthand experience with the future employees of the industry I was hoping to improve. Later I lost my research funding because the donors were having to pour resources into a different project, so I made a proposal to BUFT for full-time work and they asked me to lead the department.
Alf: How many fashion students do you teach in the moment?
Anna: I currently teach 97 students myself, but there are 756 total in the department.
“We want to remove the stigma of “Made in Bangladesh”
Alf: As you said before, you have a personal relation to the Rana Plaza tragedy and a professional relation to the textile industry. You are also part of the team behind Fashion Revolution Bangladesh. Can you tell me more about the other team members and what do you want to achieve with your actions?
Anna: The country coordinator for Fashion Revolution Bangladesh this year is Bangladeshi fairtrade designer, Nawshin Khair. The larger Fashion Revolution group is a British NGO comprised of designers, academics, scientists, industry leaders, and other stakeholders. Fashion Revolution Bangladesh is currently a collaboration between BUFT, myself, Nawshin, as well as a Hong Kong-based non-profit called Lensational which provides photography training and job support to disadvantaged women such as garment workers. Fashion Revolution Bangladesh is a part of a larger consumer awareness campaign to promote better transparency and more ethical labor practices, with the specific mission to remove the stigma of “Made in Bangladesh” by highlighting the sustainability initiatives of progressive factories here.
However, Fashion Revolution Bangladesh is also a long term effort to achieve much more than that. Together we are investigating the relationship between the shortcomings in the local education system and those of the Ready-Made Garment sector, while developing training solutions to improve both, and spurring dialogue on these issues among the local and international communities that are involved. We hope to make the annual Fashion Revolution Bangladesh campaign activities a course in the BUFT fashion curriculum, as well as provide internships to students, and continue to engage industry leaders in teaching design students about sustainability, ethical practice, and compliance. We’ll also focus on gender equality in the sector by targeting female graduates specifically and informing all students about this issue.
Finally, we aim to raise the sustainability and leadership skills of Ready-Made Garment mid-level management through more advanced training programs which currently don’t exist in the country, which is why so many of these positions are held by foreigners.
Alf: Can you tell me a little bit more about the 4 case companies of your actions, especially: why have you chosen exactly these companies?
Anna: First, the companies we chose were willing to participate, which is significant because there are plenty of great progressive factories who are nevertheless skittish about shining a spotlight on what they are doing right now, especially in something that seems like an activist movement focused on the Rana Plaza disaster. Our work for next year’s event is to spend much more time in outreach, to help the industry progressives see the benefits of what we are trying to do.
Second, we chose two fairtrade and/or impact-focused firms with alternative business models as well as two mainstream factories who are producing for many big name, conventional brands, but who are regardless making great efforts to reduce environmental impact and improve the social impact.
Desh Garmentswas established in 1977 and was the first export-oriented Ready-Made Garment factory in Bangladesh. The import and introduction of garments technology itself is credited to Desh Garments, which in 1978 sent 130 workers and management trainees to be trained at Daewoo in South Korea. We thought introducing Desh and its journey to the students at BUFT and wider audience will help us understand how Bangladesh came to be one of the leading countries for Ready-Made Garment business.
Beximcois a vertically-integrated factory in Dhaka that supplies for major brands as well as its own local label, Yellow. In terms of work environment, it is SA8000-certified and boasts a stunning campus and facilities, including on-site medical care and childcare. So it is already setting a high standard, but we were also interested in its impressive waste management initiative: For nearly three years, it has been developing and producing upcycled clothing, or clothing that is made entirely from the scrap of other garments (pre-consumer waste), under the guidance of Aus Design, from Estonia. This is part of its dedicated sustainability department, which we wanted to highlight as an ideal for other factories to replicate.
Living Blueis a fair trade concern, where the artisans not only get a fair wage and democratically manage and run their own businesses, but also have total control over profits. The surplus generated by these various social enterprises contribute to the general well-being of local communities and help to create sustainable social, cultural and economic life.
Friendship’ Colours of the Char’works in some of the hardest to reach areas of Bangladesh that are almost completely deprived of government or non-government amenities and facilities. These are mostly disaster prone areas comprised of inhabitants who are almost completely dependent on agricultural based livelihoods. In order to ensure constant sources of income, Friendship ‘Colours from the Chars’ provides Vocational Training Courses and alternative income generation options. It also empowers women through training and job placement at its 7 weaving centres. The fabric they make from the weaving centres uses azo-free dyes.
The above four organisations each have unique and wonderful characteristics which add to the heritage of Bangladesh. We want to communicate their stories so that there is a fuller concept behind “Made in Bangladesh.”
“Fashion would truly be a democratized and individualized art that includes and enriches all societies and our material culture”
Alf: Bangladesh is the biggest textile exporter besides China. The future of Fashion in terms of the production will be designed in Bangladesh. So, what do you think: How could the future of ethical and sustainable apparel industry look like?
Anna: This is a great question, without easy answers because the current state is so far gone, and because technological solutions, along with decreased consumption (a presumed fundamental requirement in the sustainability vision) could create massive unemployment for an uneducated labor pool if applied to the current mass-produced business model. So an entirely different approach is needed really.
My vision would be creative production clusters that are provided high-skilled and knowledgeable employees by holistic training programs and global networks in the university system (in terms of international R&D partnerships with hubs in production areas, more cultural exchange programs, and also garment-related social impact programs as a basic component of learning in university-level textiles and fashion programs). Further, these clusters would be nurtured through committed partnerships with buyers and direct relationships with individual customers who care to know the people behind their clothing.
The orgs and businesses within these clusters would value their empowered, multi-skilled workers and take responsibility for the stability and growth of their communities, through all the benefits we already know contribute to an ideal work/life balance and greater gender equality such as we see working so successfully in the Nordic countries.
The concept of mass production and multinational brands would be left behind for higher quality, custom clothing that actually represents an enduring value to the wearer because it is unique to them and required their participation in its design.
Fashion would truly be a democratized and individualized art that includes and enriches all societies and our material culture. Textiles and clothing was, for many cultures and for so much history, full of meaning and personal stories; we lost that when it became an industrialized activity, so bringing it back will help re-instate the value of the producer-artist again.
Alf: Last but not least, one more personal question: What is your favorite clothing and who made it?
Anna: My preferred clothing is vintage, second hand finds, but here in Dhaka that is no longer available to me. I try to buy from sustainable brands like Threads for Thought, Osborne Shoes, and Aus Design’s upcycled clothing, which is made right here in Dhaka at Beximco. I also want to support independent emerging designers whenever I can – Joe Mas with his label ANGEMAS out of Hong Kong is a current fav.
Alf: Thanks for your time, Anna. I wish you all the best for your work in Bangladesh and for the future of (y)our Fashion Industry!
Saturday 9 May 2015 is World Fair Trade Day #WFTD2015
This storyboard by Khushboo Wadhwani beautifully presents the routine of making block print cloth in India. The brief was to show the production process and the skills involved, rather than focussing on the people.
Fair Trade is a tangible contribution to the fight against poverty, climate change and global economic crises. The World Bank 2014 Report shows that more than one billion people still live at or below $1.25 a day.
The World Fair Trade Organization (WFTO) believes that trade must benefit the most vulnerable and deliver sustainable livelihoods by developing opportunities especially for small and disadvantaged producers. Recurring global economic crises and persistent poverty in many countries confirm the demand for a fair and sustainable economy locally and globally. Fair Trade is the response.
CREDITS
Footage:
Indiaroots.com
Good Earth India
Bollywood! Boclive (Lakme Fashion Week footage)
Music:
Tony Anderson: Breakthrough
Thanks Zara!
Thanks Zara. Bold title for an ethical and sustainable blog? Perhaps a little, I know, but this “thanks” to Zara is completely justified and I believe completely deserved. Want to know why?
A few weeks ago I took up the challenge launched by Fashion Revolution and the Asociación Moda Sostenible for Fashion Revolution Day encouraging us to ask the brands ‘Who Made My Clothes?’, with the aim to make us reflect about how the clothing we wear is made and to make the brands realise that, even if their garments are produced in workshops subcontracted by other companies, they have a huge responsibility to know who made them and, above all, under what working conditions.
Okay, so for my challenge I asked the Spanish brand Zara who had made my hoodie.
The truth is that when I recorded the video I did not expect that Zara, flagship of the Inditex group, would answer. Who was I that this kind of multinational brand would pay attention to my question?
Well I was completely mistaken, because just a few days after tweeting the question to the brand, I started to get messages from Zara Care (Twitter account for Zara’s customer services) informing me of the process of my query until, on the 14th April, the brand replied to my question via Facebook. I’ve pasted the messages below.
Zara Facebook message:
Hello, the item from your video is a hooded jacket sold by Zara in 2009. This garment came from a Turkish business (Uniteks Gida Tekstil) who carried out the production in two factories: BGB Tekstil and Tekova Tekstil. Both factories are located in Izmir (western Turkey); the first has around 140 workers and the second about 100. Uniteks, just like BGB and Tekova, continue to form part of Inditex’s current supply base. Their workshops have surpassed the most recent full social audit in January 2014 and in July 2013 respectively (audits of those manufacturers that obtain high ratings are carried out every 24 months), and subsequent to these dates they have received visits from technical assistance (related to implementation of improvements) as well as regular production controls (necessary to ensure complete traceability of our products).
We hope that this information is useful to you.
So my hoodie had been made by two Turkish businesses subcontracted by a third one that Zara had originally subcontracted? “That’s a lot of contracts!” was my first thought. No wonder they took 15 days to be able to reply… Still, I suppose that, whether we like it or not, in multinational businesses it’s like this every day. In the end, big businesses also subcontract me to help them develop part of their communication strategies and Corporate Social Responsibility.
The second thing that surprised me was Zara’s ability to let me know the traceability of their garment manufacturing. I understand that it has to be like that, but that didn’t stop it being a pleasant surprise. As you can see in the messages, to find out exactly they asked me for the model of the jacket. If I’m not mistaken it was Uniteks Gida Tekstil who subcontracted both BGB Tekstil and Tekova Tekstil.
The third part that caught my attention was that six years later the three companies are still working for the group and that they had social audits in 2013 and 2014 carried out by Zara. But, what exactly does this “social audit” mean?
According to Zara’s webpage:
The production facilities of all suppliers whithin Inditex’s supply chain are audited periodically by Inditex’s CSR teams or specialist external auditors in order to assess their level of compliance with the Code of Conduct for Manufacturers and Suppliers. These audits have been developed in accordance with Inditex’s Tested to Wear methodology, designed in 2007 in collaboration withIndustriALL (formerly ITGLWF), the Cambridge Centre for Business and Public Sector Ethics and Inditex. The methodology is reviewed periodically to incorporate appropriate updates and factor in the experience gained. The last review took place in 2013.
Once a supplier has signed Inditex’s Minimum Requirements, its facilities and any other factories and workshops it works with undergo an initial CSR audit.
These audits consist of facility inspection, documentary due diligence (management systems, payrolls, work hour ledgers, production records, employee documentation, permits, etc.), verification of waste management, emissions and water and energy usage, and interviews with factory managers, employees, union representatives and health and safety staff, among things.
For the duration of its business relationship with Inditex, the suppliers and their associated facilities undergo periodic audits.
I know audits can’t guarantee that the workers’ social and labour rights are respected in these subcontracted factories, given that it’s really difficult to gauge the actual reality of a company from one of these inspections (all of us have experienced one of these audits at work and surely no one – at least I haven’t ever – has actually been privately questioned by the auditor to find out exactly how the company treats them. And if it does happen, that that brave person has been able to criticise their bosses without fearing reprisal…). Still, this is the system that exists and we have to trust it. Here you can see the conditions that Inditex requires from their providers.
Not just settling for Zara’s reply, I took the opportunity to find out some more information about the businesses mentioned on the Clean Clothes Campaign (international campaign which focuses on the working conditions of garment workers), but I haven’t been able to find any reference to these three Turkish companies. If anyone from the CCC reads this and has any more info, please get in touch! I did, however, find the analysis of Zara that ‘Ropa Limpia’ (Clean Clothes in Spain) did in 2010.
Whatever the case may be, I hope that after reading my post you understand this ‘Thanks Zara’ in the title. And, as far as I know, of all the videos from the #retomodasostenible that have been recorded for Fashion Revolution Day in Spain, only this one and María Pérez-Hickman’s, who asked Esesoese, have received a response. Have a look at #retomodasostenible on facebook y #retomodasostenible on Twitter. Check #whomademyclothes to see global questions and responses.
Thanks again to Zara for paying attention to this challenge and, in this way, stepping up to Fashion Revolution Day.
From here, I encourage the brand and also the whole of the Inditex group to continue working so that all of us fashion lovers can feel proud to wear their clothing now that we’re adults and have more awareness, with the same emphasis that we used to when we were teenagers.
For my generation, Zara allowed us to be the first ‘fashion’ kids and teenagers in history; they gave us the opportunity to be fashionable at an affordable price; they made us believe that through hard work a small business could conquer the whole world. Now that we’re adults – and I think I speak for my whole generation – we would love Zara to prove that this hasn’t been achieved at the cost of other people’s health and quality of life. And if, out of ignorance, or greed or a lack of awareness, at any point in the business’ history this has been the case, I would be satisfied knowing that this is already a thing of the past and that from now onwards no one will ever see their human and workers’ rights violated so that a t-shirt might cost me a few euros less or so that the company selling it might earn a few euros more. Deal? Given Zara’s response to my question, I think it’s a deal.