Jane Doe
Fictional Personal Narrative
Welcome to Hell
I am a citizen of China, the most populated country in the world. A citizen of a country with a booming economy, the second largest in the world. The history of my country, full of blood, sweat, and tears, has molded both my peers and I to be rich in morals and pride. I am a citizen of China, the cookie-cutter country. But little do many know, the country that seems so perfect on paper hides a dark secret that few can fathom.
My name is Xiao Ping, and I am more than just a citizen of China. To support my small family, I recently acquired a job that I hoped would bring in some extra money for us to live more comfortably. But in doing so, I exposed myself to a nightmare that I could not even begin imagine ever encountering.
After contacting Apple, I received a phone call late one night from Mr. Lao, who requested we meet the following week for an interview. Graciously, I accepted the offer and began planning for my future adventure. Filled with anxiety, the days slowly passed as morning and nights crept by. As the morning finally arrived, I prepared myself a piping hot cup of traditional Keemun tea, steamed my finest suit, and ran out the door towards Foxconn City Headquarters. With dreams of wealth and stability on my mind, I shuffled out of the Beijing subway station to my destination.
Ready to impress, I straightened my tie and confidently strolled towards the beautifully constructed building. I noticed something strange about the property as I got closer; a set of ropes lined the perimeter of the building. “Strange,” I thought to myself, “but nothing worth worrying over.”
Upon my entry to the building, a receptionist redirected me to Lao’s office, where I was promptly offered a job after being showed around the factory. Overjoyed, I agreed to the tour and followed close behind him as he escorted me around. He opened the heavy metal doors and led me into a precisely untouched white room of robotic machines moving products, a room that lacked even a single speck of dust. “This,” he said, “is hell.” Lao let out a chuckle as he turned his head towards me, hysterical at his own joke. I laughed along as we entered the factory in which I would be working.
Lao gave me free rein to explore the factory, but gave me strict instructions to ignore the workers so they could tend to their duties. As we walked in, I was amazed at all of the people hard at work, filing metal and attaching parts. They buzzed like busy bees, work never ending. I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of workers in the enormous factory, hundreds of them crammed into tight assembly lines throughout the room. I walked around some more before recognizing that most of the workers I had previously encountered looked underage and too young to be working.
As I strolled past the living quarters, I heard a soft voice calling me over. “Hey, you,” they whispered, “hurry quick, get over here.” My pace grew quicker as I entered what looked like a hole in the wall. It seemed to be the size of a small closet filled with a mess of cluttered bunk beds and unsanitary conditions. As I got closer to the voice, I noticed a younger looking boy sitting on one of the four beds crammed into the small room. He introduced himself as Wei Li, a 14 year old boy from Shanghai who came to work in hopes of a better life. “Little did I know of the horrible things that this factory would do to me,” he explained with caution, “everything sounds good on paper, but the boss is mean, the pay is low, and the hours are long.”
“Are you sure, kid?” I joked, “Mr. Lao was nothing but nice to me today.”
Wei Li went on to explain the verbal and physical abuse of his superiors, the constant yelling and fear of punishment. This young boy was responsible for screwing hundreds of thousands of screens on iPads onto their metal counterpart. On any given day, he told me that he could screw at least a thousand iPads together with little or no break. Being paid less than $2 an hour, his will to work was little. The only factor keeping his productivity high was his never ending fear of punishment.
“We all come here to work for the same reason you and I are here, money. But there is no amount of money this pain and suffering would all be worth,” the young boy cried to me. “This place is a glorified prison; everyone constantly lives on edge, fearing Mr. Lao’s wrath if someone on the assembly line makes even the slightest mistake.”
With that said, something in my head clicked. The nets. They weren’t just a strange addition to the buildings look. The nets acted as a crucial safety precaution to catch workers attempting to end their suffering. I recalled hearing a newscast from 2010 that reported a total of 18 suicides to escape horrific work conditions.
Immediately, I ran back to Mr. Lao’s office and approached him in his large leather chair. “Sorry sir, but I’m going to have to decline your offer. I don’t think I’m ready for this job,” I proudly confessed.
“You’re loss,” he giggled, “you don’t know what you’re missing!”
I saw the fear in Wei Li’s eyes, and it was a unlikeany other I have ever seen. I still remember that look as I hug my son and kiss my daughter goodnight. I may not be as financially secure as I hoped I would be, but I value my life more than to put it at risk at that factory. As I recall the terror of the factory workers and the horrific conditions of their living areas, I realize why I made the decision to decline the job. I may not have been dealt the best hand in life, but I am more than content to have my family by my side as I work hard for my money.
Before I go I must remind you, before you support a monopoly like Apple, learn where your products come from. You never appreciate and value the hard work that goes into your gadgets before you are made known of the people responsible for its creation.