The precarious life of undocumented food delivery men in Paris

Since dawn, Ahmed has delivered pizzas and Asian dishes. But instead he has nothing to eat. Therefore, at nightfall, with a ‘Deliveroo’ bag on his back and a bike in hand, he stands in line at a place where they distribute food in Paris.

“I waited all day to come here, it’s my only meal” a day, explains this 26-year-old Tunisian, after having quickly gobbled up everything on the tray provided by the Salvation Army in a place located in the popular neighborhood of Barbès (north of Paris), adjacent to the brand new “Maison des coursiers” (delivery house).

For a year he has been riding his bicycle “around 06:00 and until midnight. And, every night he dines there. Undocumented, he is forced to work for a “boss”, who pays him just 400 euros a month (about US$457).

After deducting the rent of his shared room in Sarcelles (west), the Véligo pass (to use publicly rented bicycles) and the money he sends back to his country to help his family, he has “nothing” left.

“When I arrived in France, for months I slept under a bridge. I would like to get out of this (slave) galley, but I have nothing else. So I have no other option”, confesses this former employee of a gas station in Tunisia.

“luxury product”

During the first COVID-19 lockdown, the Salvation Army began welcoming delivery people en masse at its food distribution sites, recalls Françoise, who was in charge of dinner one night in February. For her, a symbol of the “social fracture” of which they are victims.

From then on, food is provided in this new space, shared with the “Maison des couriers”, inaugurated in mid-January.

There, the dealers in a very precarious situation they can rest, drink a coffee and have toilets, but, above all, they receive help for their regularization.

Food delivery men who don’t earn enough to eat? This causes “a lot of anger” to Circé Liénard, head of Coopcycle, a federation of cooperatives that wants to offer an alternative to “traditional” platforms. Her objective: “to put an end to precariousness” by paying real wages to the ‘delivery’.

“That you receive your order in a few minutes is a ‘luxury product’. If it costs you little or nothing, it is because the cost reduction is paid for by the delivery people themselves, ”he laments.

These are often undocumented workers who sometimes work under someone else’s identity, or are forced to sublet accounts.

This is the case of Koné, a 22-year-old Ivorian, a Deliveroo courier for only a week.

“At the moment, I earn almost nothing,” he acknowledges after a three-hour tour, as he devours a few biscuits that were offered to him.

“Sometimes they don’t even pay you”

“For those just starting out, it’s always the galley (exploitation),” sighs Keita Siriki, his fifty-year-old compatriot, sitting a little further away.

He obtained his regularization “after a long battle” with his employer, and thanks to the help of a union.

He hopes soon to be a formal employee of Frichti, a platform for which he has been making deliveries for three years, or to return to his old job as a truck driver in the Ivory Coast.

But like the rest, Siriki began to work under an “alias”.

“When we arrive we do not know our rights. But here (at the Maison des coursiers), they help us and the negotiations move forward. When I come here I feel at home. I say to the others, come and get help.”

This Wednesday, Keita brought Alpha, a 29-year-old Guinean, for the first time, who discovers this minimalist place: a fridge, two tables, a coffee maker and a sofa.

The young man is staring at the countdown shown on his smartphone: in 38 minutes, he must start his service in front of a “dark kitchen”, “ghost” kitchens improvised by delivery platforms.

He is also impatiently waiting to get his residence permit since, since he started in 2019, he has been cycling with a third party account.

“Sometimes they pay you, but other times they don’t. We can’t do anything, we are illegal. Sometimes, we work five hours and they don’t even give us 30 euros. On those days I also have to go and ask for food,” says this father of a family.