Scrolling Past Slavery: How Social Media revamped the Kafala system

Lebanon’s Digital Economy and the Feminization of Informal Labor

Despite a growing focus on economic justice within the feminist movement in Lebanon, both offline and online, the prevailing discourse has focused on the precarity experienced by Lebanese women who are pushed into informal economies as an alternative income source to achieve financial independence. At present, the intellectual attention is focused on the recent emergence of social media profiles selling handmade goods, from home-based and women-led businesses, which has become particularly prevalent since the onset of the Lebanese economic and financial crisis. The mandatory lockdowns during the Covid-19 pandemic also pushed many people into home-based work. Many small, women-owned businesses emerged during this time, most of which market their products on Instagram and Facebook. Housewives, mothers and aunties make soaps, candles, and sweets in their kitchens, while others knit and crochet toys and clothing or design jewelry and accessories made from affordable materials.

While there have been many critiques of the precarity that this digital gig economy presents to Lebanese women, there has been less attention to the particular risks that these unregulated online markets present to migrant workers under the Kafala system. The presence and vulnerability faced by migrant domestic workers in informal economies remains a significant blind spot in the feminist movement for labor rights.

The Legal Loopholes of Lebanon’s Online Informal Economy

The informal economy has flourished in the digital space due to the absence of laws, regulations, and protections for online business owners and consumers. The discourse on the digital economy within the Lebanese feminist movement focuses on the gendered aspects of social and structural inequalities, such as the prevalence of invisible domestic labor and sole responsibility in childcare, barriers in accessing financial resources and information technologies, and gender inequalities in digital literacy. Furthermore, the informal nature of the digital economy has raised concerns about labor standards, discriminatory practices, and unregulated prices affecting market competition.

But the commodification of the labor of women of color – and sometimes even the women themselves – has received less attention in feminist critiques of the digital economy. This is in spite of alarming cases that have been reported for over half a decade. In 2020, the case of a Nigerian migrant domestic worker being advertised for sale with the caption stating “African domestic worker from Nigeria for sale with new residency permit and complete legal documents. She’s 30 years old, she’s very active, and very clean [...]” with a price tag of $1000 US Dollars. The incident was covered in various news outlets and led to the investigation and arrest of the man publishing the post.

Cases like this are more common than people think. Commercial websites such as OLX, as well as social media platforms including Facebook, Instagram and X (formerly Twitter), tolerate the advertisement of migrant domestic workers for sale with little to no monitoring or preventative measures. Commonly used hashtags, such as خادمة_للتنازل# or ⁧#عاملات⁩_للتنازل  (servant or worker for transfer), should alert us to the existence of an online economy of human trafficking and modern slavery that is operating in broad daylight with no prevention by the authorities.

The online commodification of migrant domestic workers under Kafala is a contemporary manifestation of modern slavery. The objection that payment precludes slavery misses the point: what defines slavery is not the absence of wages but the exercise of ownership over a person, and the Kafala sponsorship structure grants employers precisely that. The ability to advertise, transfer, and sell a worker to another household strips her of agency over her own labor and movement, treating a person as transferable property. That this occurs through WhatsApp groups and social media platforms rather than auction houses does not diminish its character but rather modernizes its form.

Solidarity for Some, Silence for Others

These social media posts advertising the sale of migrant domestic workers should have been met with a wave of outrage and demands for systemic change. Instead, the same Facebook groups that promote women-led businesses selling their handmade products are also facilitating the trafficking of African and South-Asian women. The same women who support small businesses with their purchase or with comments of encouragement, fail to challenge or even acknowledge the dehumanization of migrant domestic workers being advertised as commodities for Lebanese households. Private Facebook groups, such as Lebanon Ladies by Rodina, or TJ Ladies صبايا طريق الجديدة, are depicted as safe and supportive spaces for women-led businesses. Yet paradoxically, they are propping up an informal online economy, where “offers on 100% cotton pajamas" can appear adjacent to “trading of housekeepers from Ethiopia, active, clean and hard-working”.

The alarming phenomenon is also prevalent on online marketplaces, such as OLX, a platform for the sale and purchase of second-hand, pre-owned products, including cars, furniture and appliances. Among the vast catalogue of advertised goods, migrant domestic workers are marketed with descriptions of their language skills, personal traits and the years of experience working as housekeepers.

The silo-ing of social movements

Two realities exist side by side, justified by the misplaced claim of women supporting women. The disturbing coexistence of those parallel economies is a distinctive manifestation of the silo-ing of social movements in Lebanese society, and the indifference that women in one social category can feel toward those in another.

This glaring contradiction is symptomatic of Lebanon’s entrenched social hierarchy, which brings together classist, racist and sexist discrimination in the domestic sphere alone. Lebanese feminist movement sometimes contributes to this structure by adopting selective and biased approaches to their fight against precarity, advocating for some while ignoring the exploitation and oppression of others. The limited expressions of solidarity and minimal attempts at intersectional inclusion by Lebanese feminists stands in stark contrast to the repeated acts of solidarity and assistance demonstrated by migrant worker communities during various crises and emergencies. Migrant women have regularly offered support and volunteered to help Lebanese citizens in need, as seen in their participation in feminist protests during the 2019 Revolution or by those distributing food during the displacement crises following Israel’s attack on Lebanon in 2024 and the currently on-going war in 2026.

Beyond the Screen: Accountability and Systemic Reform

Ultimately, the prevalence of these blatant trafficking advertisements in Lebanon’s online economy signifies the disregard that many citizens feel toward African and South-Asian women of color. The Kafala system’s existence is only possible with Lebanese society’s normalization of racialized and gendered exploitation and abuse. The culture of impunity toward abusive employers and exploitative recruitment agencies goes largely unchallenged, while the wider population scrolls through online content violating human rights. The indifference is loud and alarming.

Addressing this digital commodification of migrant women requires systemic reform, vigilant monitoring of online platforms, and a commitment to social accountability. And the first steps toward systemic change and rectification will need to be made by the Lebanese feminist movement, which needs to reckon with their failure to include marginalized migrant women in its pursuit of intersectional justice, legal and societal equality, and guaranteed protection for human rights.

The views expressed in this article are not necessarily those of the Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung.