看不见的脸，听得见的心声：马来西亚外籍劳工的处境与社会偏见 Invisible Faces, Audible Voices: The Lives of Migrant Workers and Social Prejudice in Malaysia

唐南发是马来西亚的自由撰稿人，长期关注社会议题，尤其是难民与外籍劳工问题。他多年致力于外籍劳工议题的跟进与研究，并与许多外籍劳工建立了友谊，从而获得对其日常生活更为深入的理解。他关注这一群体的原因，可追溯至其早年经历的一段重要事件。

异乡人的回响：伦敦的启示

深刻的同理，往往源自塑造它的亲身经历。对于自由撰稿人及社会评论家唐南发而言，他对马来西亚外籍劳工课题的关注，源于一段长达十二年的异乡生活。中学毕业后，他远赴英国，在那个陌生的国度里，他并非一个无忧无虑的留学生。由于家庭经济条件有限，他必须靠自己打工来维持学业和生活。这段经历让他深刻体会到，当一个人远在异国、语言不通、被视作“外人”时，生活的艰辛便可想而知。

在伦敦的岁月里，唐南发的生活与工作构成了一幅多元文化的画卷。为了生活，他从事过各种各样的工作，这段经历也让他接触到了来自世界各地的人。

在与这些来自中东、非洲、南美和亚洲各国的同事共事时，他感受到一种纯粹的合作关系——大家都是同事，一起努力把事情做好。然而，在这样一个国际大都市，歧视依然无处不在。他曾遭受过来自不同群体的言语偏见，不仅有白人的，也有来自其他地区的华人，例如香港人、新加坡华人或是台湾人。他至今仍记得，曾有人因他当时的英文不够流利而轻蔑地对他说：“你赶快把英文学好才来跟我讲话。”

这些不愉快的遭遇，最终让他获得了最宝贵的启示：只有当自己身处异乡时，才能真正体会那种被排挤、无法融入的感受。 他人生中第一次接触到沙巴人，就是在伦敦的餐馆里一起打工。他们是所谓的“跳飞机”，也就是逾期逗留的无证工人。因为同样身处社会边缘，同为“外来者”，他们之间产生了一种独特的联结。在那一个夏天里，他不仅与沙巴的朋友们建立了深厚的友谊，甚至连自己的客家话也因此变得流利起来。

正是这份亲身经历，成为了他理解并共情马来西亚移工处境的基石，使他能够穿透标签，看见背后那一张张真实而有血有肉的脸。这段在伦敦身为“局外人”的经历，如同一面棱镜。日后，他正是透过这面棱镜，才得以清晰地审视自己家园里那些同样“被看不见”的局外人。

马来西亚社会的一面镜子：我们身边的偏见

从英国回到马来西亚后，唐南发对他所处的社会有了一种全新的、甚至是震惊的观察。他发现，社会中弥漫着一种针对外籍劳工的根深蒂固的偏见。一次，他无意中将一位印尼摊贩误认为马来人，与唐南发同行的马来同事立刻表现出被羞辱的神情，反复强调那个摊贩是印尼人，并惊讶地反问：“You cannot tell the difference?”（你分不出来吗？）。这个小插曲让他第一次意识到，即使在文化和语言极为相近的族群之间，也存在着一条无形的社会分层。

这种偏见体现在日常生活的方方面面，形成了一种刻板印象与现实之间的巨大鸿沟。

“哇，你好像外劳这样哦，只有外劳才骑脚车的嘞。”

当在唐南发告诉别人自己是骑自行车来参加活动时，这是他得到的答复。一句不经意的调侃，却像手术刀一样，精准地切开了马来西亚社会深处一个病态的脓疮：我们一方面极度依赖他们提供的便利与劳动力，另一方面又将“外劳”这个词污名化，将他们视为社会的底层。

他强调的核心观点是：“他们其实也跟我们一样，有血有肉”。他们有家庭，有情感，会因为被亏待而难过，也会因为做好一件事而开心。我们需要改变的，不仅仅是言语上的称呼，更是内心深处那份根深蒂固的偏见与傲慢。

超越标签，看见人性

回顾这一切，唐南发的核心呼吁其实非常简单：马来西亚人必须正视自己的历史。远在马六甲王朝之前，就已有来自不同地区的移民在这片土地上生活。承认这片土地自古以来就是由不同时期的移民共同建立的，我们才能接受，社会的人口结构并非一成不变，它会随着经济和时代的需求而不断演变。

他也提到，我们最需要培养的，是两种最基本的人类品质：同理心和对他人尊严的尊重。我们能做的最简单、也最重要的事情，就是停止歧视。无论对方的国籍、肤色或法律身份如何，都应给予平等的尊重。

正如唐南发所说，如果我们之中的任何一个人，有朝一日被迫到国外成为一名无证劳工，就能立刻体会到，那种时时被人排斥、处处被人提防、甚至在言语上被公然羞辱的滋味，是多么令人痛苦。将心比心，或许是我们学会尊重他人的第一步，也是迈向一个更成熟、更包容的社会的必经之路。

Josh Hong is a Malaysian freelance writer who has long focused on social issues, particularly those concerning refugees and migrant workers. Over the years, he has closely followed and researched migrant labour issues, building friendships with many migrant workers and gaining deeper insight into their daily lives. His commitment to this subject can be traced back to a formative experience in his early adulthood.

Echoes of Life Abroad: Lessons from London

Deep empathy often grows out of lived experience. For Josh Hong, his concern for migrant workers in Malaysia began during twelve years spent living overseas. After finishing secondary school, he travelled to the United Kingdom. There, he was far from a carefree international student. Due to limited family finances, he had to support himself through part-time work while studying. This period allowed him to experience firsthand the difficulties of living in a foreign country, navigating unfamiliar systems, limited language proficiency, and the constant awareness of being seen as an “outsider.”

During his years in London, Josh Hong life and work unfolded within a richly multicultural environment. To make ends meet, he took on a variety of jobs, which brought him into contact with people from the Middle East, Africa, South America, and across Asia.

Working alongside colleagues from such diverse backgrounds, he experienced a sense of genuine camaraderie, everyone was simply trying to do their job well. Yet even in a global city like London, discrimination was never absent. He was subjected to verbal prejudice from different groups, including white Britons as well as other ethnic Chinese communities, such as those from Hong Kong, Singapore, or Taiwan. One remark remains vivid in his memory: someone once dismissed him for his limited English, saying, “Learn English properly before you talk to me.”

These encounters, though painful, led him to a crucial realisation: only by living as a foreigner can one truly understand the feeling of exclusion and alienation. His first encounter with Sabahans in his life also took place in a London restaurant where they worked together. Many of them were undocumented workers who had overstayed their visas. Sharing the same marginal position in society, they formed a unique bond. That summer, Josh Hong not only developed deep friendships with his Sabahan colleagues, but even became more fluent in Hakka through daily interactions.

This lived experience became the foundation of his empathy for migrant workers in Malaysia. It enabled him to look beyond labels and see the real, human faces behind them. His years as an “outsider” in London became a prism through which he would later examine the lives of those who remain unseen in his own country.

A Mirror of Malaysian Society: Prejudice in Everyday Life

Upon returning to Malaysia, Josh Hong observed his own society with fresh and often unsettling eyes. He became acutely aware of the deeply entrenched prejudice directed at migrant workers. On one occasion, he casually mistook an Indonesian street vendor for a Malay. A Malay colleague who was with him immediately reacted with visible discomfort, repeatedly stressing that the vendor was Indonesian and asking in disbelief, “You cannot tell the difference?”

This small incident revealed a larger truth: even among communities that share close cultural and linguistic ties, invisible social hierarchies persist.

Such prejudice permeates everyday life, creating a wide gap between stereotypes and reality.

“Wow, you look like a migrant worker, only migrant workers ride bicycles.”

This was the response Josh Hong received when he mentioned arriving at an event by bicycle. The seemingly casual remark cut like a scalpel, exposing a deep social contradiction in Malaysia: while society depends heavily on migrant workers for daily convenience, the term “migrant worker” is simultaneously stigmatised, used to mark people as inferior.

Josh Hong’s central point is simple yet profound: “They are just like us, flesh and blood.” Migrant workers have families, emotions, and aspirations. They feel pain when mistreated and pride when they do something well. What needs to change is not only the language we use, but the deep-rooted prejudice and sense of superiority that reside beneath it.

Beyond Labels: Seeing Humanity

Reflecting on these experiences, Josh Hong’s core message is clear. Malaysians must confront their own history. Long before the Malacca Sultanate, migrants from different regions had already been held on this land. Only by recognising that Malaysia has always been shaped by waves of migration can society accept that its demographic makeup is neither fixed nor static, but continuously reshaped by economic needs and historical forces.

He emphasises that two fundamental human values must be cultivated: empathy and respect for human dignity. The simplest and most essential step is to stop discriminating. Regardless of nationality, skin colour, or legal status, every individual deserves equal respect.

As Josh Hong points out, if any one of us were someday forced to live abroad as an undocumented worker, we would immediately understand how painful it is to be constantly excluded, suspected, and openly humiliated. To place ourselves in others’ shoes may be the first step toward learning respect and toward building a more mature, inclusive society.