‘He didn’t have a contract for me’: the Indian careworkers who paid agents to work in Britain

<span>Akhil Jenny (left) and Geo Ambooken (right) were among those paying for what they believed were immigration services.</span><span>Composite: Guardian Design/Getty Images/Alamy</span>
Akhil Jenny (left) and Geo Ambooken (right) were among those paying for what they believed were immigration services.Composite: Guardian Design/Getty Images/Alamy

Akhil Jenny was living in a small town in southern India, struggling with crippling debts, when a work contact offered him a way out.

“I had some loans which I had taken out for medical care and I couldn’t repay them,” Jenny told the Guardian. “I had a nursing qualification and wanted to come to the UK. That’s what Shinto Sebastian offered me – a well-paid job as a care worker in Britain. It solved all my problems.”

Over the next few months Jenny was to realise the offer from Sebastian, an India-based immigration agent, was too good to be true.

Jenny sold off family assets to pay his agent, only to find that the British company which sponsored him had no care job for him when he arrived.

Workers who came to Britain legally are now trapped with small sources of irregular income, unable to leave their employer for fear of deportation, and unable to go home for fear of being unable to pay off their debts.

While the government has tightened up the number of people who can enter Britain on care worker visas, experts say it has done little to tackle the deeper problem of rampant abuse of the immigration system. Dora-Olivia Vicol, the chief executive of the Work Rights Centre, said many were being left “excluded from the benefits system, with no financial safety net, facing extraordinary risks and stress”.

The Guardian has spoken to dozens of migrant workers, all of whom described going through similar experiences.

In each case, the worker said they heard about a job opportunity in the UK, either through friends or social media influencers who referred them to an immigration agent in India. They said the immigration agent then charged them between £8,000 and £20,000 to process their visa, with some promising the money would cover flights, airport transfers, and a month’s accommodation too.

In most, but not all, cases the workers said the India-based immigration agent worked with a British agent or recruitment company.

Eventually, the worker would be given a certificate showing they had secured sponsorship with a particular care home or agency. On each certificate, it listed not only the employer but also the hours they would work and the salary they would receive.

But on arrival in Britain, most said they found little or no work available. Some said they were asked to jump through hoops such as buying a car or securing a tenancy before being allowed to take on a few shifts. Some said they were simply told there was no work available and they were immediately sacked. In a few cases, they said they were asked to work for the care company – but as cleaners or drivers.

Vicol said: “The health and care worker visa has left hundreds of migrant care workers trapped in limbo.

“Many describe being tied to sponsors who offer little or no work, and banned from taking on full-time employment anywhere else. Many are already in debt after paying eye-watering recruitment fees.

“Excluded from the benefits system, they have no financial safety net and are facing extraordinary risks and stress. The only way to find a new job is by finding another licensed sponsor, but this is complex, expensive, and many of them simply can’t afford it.”

Jenny paid Sebastian £16,000, and was told this would cover flights, airport travel and one month’s accommodation, in addition to the cost of a sponsorship certificate (£239) and visa (£551 for more than three years). Jenny persuaded his father to sell off his family land – which was being kept as an asset to fund Jenny’s sister’s wedding – to pay his fees.

Just like others, Jenny was introduced to a British intermediary. In his case this was a company called London Radiant Group, run by a man called Yusuf Badarudeen, which describes itself online as a recruitment company.

It is not clear what services Badarudeen provided for Jenny, or whether he received money for this. Badarudeen told the Guardian he provided logistical support for incoming migrants such as training and accommodation, for which he charged a varying fee.

Badarudeen said in a statement: “We as a company help other overseas businesses for their customers in onboarding such as airport pickups, accommodation, general training through third-party providers.

“For these reasons there is a fee that we charge depending on the level of support, however we do not provide any certificate of sponsorship or employment to anybody.”

Eventually Sebastian gave Jenny a certificate of sponsorship endorsed by Flamelily, a Sheffield company providing at-home care workers, guaranteeing him 37.5 hours a week, on a salary of £21,580 a year. On the basis of that certificate, Sebastian was then able to procure him a visa.

Flamelily, which trades as Civility Care, promises on its website an “outstanding care service” provided alongside an “ethical care approach aligned with our family values”. Like all the employers in question, the care services it offers are regulated and approved by the Care Quality Commission (CQC). There is no suggestion those services are affected by the visa allegations.

Jenny got almost nothing he says he was promised.

First, he says, the agents told him he would need to pay for his own flights, then his own accommodation, and finally, his own taxi from Manchester airport to Sheffield.

When he did arrive in Sheffield, he called one of Flamelily’s directors – a man called Sheu Matewe – only to find there was no job.

“He said he didn’t have a contract for me,” Jenny said. Speaking in fluent English, he added: “He also said I didn’t speak proper English or have proper qualifications. I fought a lot with him and finally he gave me a cleaning job, working for two or three hours a day maximum for £11 an hour.”

Jenny is still living in Sheffield, sharing a bed with another migrant worker. Sometimes if he wants more privacy, he sleeps on the kitchen floor.

For a while he was working irregular shifts as a driver for Flamelily, but two months ago Matewe emailed him to say his employment was being terminated, a decision which Matewe said was driven by “operational realities”.

Jenny’s housemate Geo Ambooken describes a similar experience.

Ambooken paid Badarudeen for what he said he thought were immigration services, putting over £2,000 in a UK account belonging to another company of which Badarudeen is a director, Brittish Group Ltd [sic].

Like Jenny, Ambooken was sponsored by Flamelily but, he says, was told there was no care work available when he arrived. Like Jenny, he says he ended up working as a driver for the company instead, ferrying around other care workers and getting paid £80 a day for an average of 16 hours’ work.

Asked about taking payments from workers, Badarudeen said: “We are not aware of any payment that they are claiming to have paid to [the] abovementioned company. However, there was a payment made to a London account which was for a family onboarding.”

Asked to specify what he provided as part of that onboarding process, Badarudeen added: “Please do not get in touch with me as I have given you enough information.”

Matewe said: “The claims made about our company offering nonexistent or unsuitable work opportunities to migrant workers are categorically false. Flamelily Care Ltd operates transparently and ethically, and we are committed to upholding the welfare and rights of all employees and visa applicants.”

He added, however: “In response to these allegations, we are launching our own internal investigation to thoroughly examine these accusations and ensure that our practices align with our values and legal obligations. We are also liaising with legal advisers to understand the full scope of these claims and take appropriate action.”

Lawyers told the Guardian that issuing a certificate of sponsorship without having a specific job to offer would break the Home Office’s rules on how they should be issued, and could be enough for officials to revoke a licence to issue more. Multiple workers – including Jenny – told the Guardian they had reported Flamelily to the Home Office, but the company still has its Home Office licence.

The Home Office would not comment on individual cases or companies.

Nishamol Sebastian, another care worker from the south of India, paid her agents over £15,000 in fees which she believed were to pay for her visa.

She was due to work for a care provider called Homecare1st, which sponsored her visa. But when she arrived in the UK, she says she was told by the company’s director, Matilda Mwenya, she would have to get a driving licence and a car before she could start.

Sebastian bought a car for £2,250. Then, she says, Mwenya told her to take out business insurance at an extra cost of £2,000.

Two months after arriving, Sebastian started work. But instead of the 39 hours of work promised on her sponsorship certificate, she says she was made to work 90, for which she was paid £1,700 a month, equivalent to just over £4 an hour – well below the minimum wage.

Last July, she got a message from Mwenya, saying the company’s licence to sponsor new migrants had been suspended. Then another message said the company no longer had enough work, and would have to put her and others on unpaid leave for four weeks.

Four months later the Home Office reinstated the company’s licence but Sebastian, who says she did not work for them during that time, had had enough. She managed to find another job, with an employer who would give her a new certificate of sponsorship, and she now works in a neurological rehabilitation centre in Bagshot.

Others, however, say they have not been so lucky.

The Guardian has spoken to 12 migrants who came to Britain to work for Homecare1st, all of whom said they were not given the work listed on their certificates of sponsorship.

Some say they were told to do unpaid office work, others say they were given no shifts at all. One says his employment was terminated after two days after being told the company’s licence had been suspended and there was no work available.

Three paid Mwenya between £2,000 and £6,000 for what they believed to be visa fees before they came to the UK.

When one of them complained about not getting work, he said Mwenya told him she would refund the money via his agent. He says the money was never returned.

Mwenya told the Guardian: “All employees are aware of the channels within the company to raise any concerns they may have, if they wish, and none were raised.”

Several migrant workers say they complained to the Home Office about Homecare1st. But after officials reinstated its licence to issue certificates of sponsorship last year, it has continued to be allowed to bring new workers into Britain. The Home Office would not comment on individual companies or licensing decisions.

The Guardian has spoken to dozens of other workers all with similar stories, all of whom are desperate for help from UK regulators or law officers.

But David Neal, the government’s former chief inspector of borders, told the Guardian: “Rather like the Post Office scandal, there is a real problem of the system rolling its eyes and then just not doing anything about it.”

Experts say regulators such as the Gangmasters and Labour Abuse Authority (GLAA), which was set up in the aftermath of the 2004 Morecambe Bay cockle-picking disaster, are underfunded and unsure of how to deal with the changing nature of modern-day slavery allegations.

Eleanor Lyons, the government’s anti-slavery commissioner, told MPs in February she was concerned about exploitation of care workers, but also explained she was dealing with dwindling resources. “I think it’s fair to say now that the focus of the Home Office is on tackling illegal migration and small boats, and that modern slavery and human trafficking is no longer the priority that it was,” she told the home affairs select committee.

The police also seem unsure of how to deal with such cases. Several of the workers the Guardian spoke to also approached the police for help, but while lawyers say some of the allegations have what look like indicators of modern slavery, no action appears to have been taken.

Nishamol Sebastian said: “I have complained to the chief minister of Kerala [her home state], to the CQC. The police said this was not modern slavery, and told me to go to a food bank. CQC said they would take action. I spoke to the Home Office. Hampshire council and Bagshot council both called from their safeguarding teams. But nothing has been done.”