The most degrading job you have ever have

I’ve never dared to share this in public. And for me, this is way more than just a shitty job I had.

I was 16 at the time.

On paper, I was supposed to work as a dishwasher. But the thing is there was no paper.

It was the summer of 2014. To be more accurate, It was during Ramadan, the holy month for Muslims(I live in Egypt, a Muslim country.) I had just finished my second year of high school.

I got into so much trouble with my parents that they almost completely cut me off. So one evening, I literally roamed the streets of my district looking for a job. I asked if they needed assistance at supermarkets, drug stores, etc.. I called everyone I knew, but to no avail. I didn’t have many friends or connections at the time, or skills.

That night I met a classmate by coincidence. He happened to be working at a local restaurant at the time. I asked him to recommend me, which he did. It was quite simple, really. I started working the day after.

I was paid 35 EGP(= 5$, at the time) a day, and had to work 12 hours/day. Mostly 8 AM to 8 PM. That meant less than 0.5$/hour. It was dirt low, but I needed it.

They told me that, as a security measure, I won’t be paid for the first three days on the job, but I’ll receive that pay when I finally quit. I said okay. At the time it seemed I had no other option.

And this wasn’t a poor restaurant. It’s a well-known one in Egypt. A franchise with branches all over the country. I was cleaning dishes that had meals I could never afford to have myself.

Also, I didn’t work only as a dishwasher, I had to assist with other things, like:

Clean up the kitchen.
Help them carry an air conditioner or a washing machie up to the manager’s flat.
Get things from the store, which was quite a journey of shame, as I wore rugged, old clothes that were mostly wet because of the job(didn’t have an apron or anything.) I was always worried someone I knew would see me like that.
The most humiliating part of it, though, was religion. I’m agnostic. I left Islam when I was 15.

But Egypt is a Muslim country. And the boss of this branch was something of a sheikh. So I had to fake-fast and fake-pray with them.

Not just to keep the job, but above all, for my own safety; as there had already been rumors going round that I left Islam. One of my co-workers had even asked me about it. I had to deny all of it. I realised then that I had to kill that rumor before it kills me or my future.

And that was bottom for me. I hated myself for it. I was ashamed. I had to pretend to be someone I’m not, to appease pigs that exploited me and my co-workers(most of us were under 18.) It felt like I was literally bowing to a slaver.

Now, this was bitterly ironic. I had originally gotten into trouble with my parents because they wanted to force Islam on me. And at the time I was so idealistic I refused to even fake it for the sake of peace. Which is the reason they had decided to cut me off.

And there I was!. in a mosque whose name literally translates to “Lions of Sunnah,” and in all my shame, guilt, and self-abasement, I realized this was all because of money. I would never have had to fake or hide who I really am if I had enough money and could provide for myself.

That was my last day at work, after working there for roughly 2 weeks. I decided I’ll quit, and continue pretending, this time to my parents. I’ll still hold my own beliefs. I’ll still be a freethinker, but I’ll lay low and be cautious. Until one day I can afford being the real me without fear.

“Money is the only real God of this world,” I thought to myself. And, to this day, I still haven’t been able to prove otherwise.