From light goods vehicles to heavy trafficking in just a few steps

RADIO REVIEW:A FEW DAYS ago Peter McCrystal was sitting in his black van outside the Registrar of Births, Deaths and Marriages on Lombard Street in Dublin. He was there to research his family tree. As his name happens to suggest, he works as a glazier. Unbeknownst to him, affable RTÉ reporter John Murray (pictured) was in the car behind him.

McCrystal's mobile number was on the side of the van, so Murray called it as part of his "Man in a Van" item for The Business(RTÉ Radio One, Saturdays), a pleasant enough morning show that provides a kind of group therapy for entrepreneurs. McCrystal is a one-man van. "I enjoy your programme," he said. (This was a recorded item – good of the producers to leave that line in.)

“Give your business a good old plug!” Murray said. McCrystal rattled off his mobile number as he had no website. It was all very quaint, especially if you were listening from bed and feeling snoozy. So . . . they’re looking for a “Bean in the Van” next, which might be a little more exciting. But probably only just a little.

Over on Newstalk 106-108, Sue Cahill went further afield to Beirut and Cairo before returning to Dublin, charting the course of human trafficking of migrant workers. Not for Sale(Saturday) was broadcast to coincide with the 20th Anniversary of the UN International Migrant Workers Day. It felt like three programmes squeezed into one, but was a timely piece of radio.

Khawla Mattar from the Special Action Programme to combat Forced Labour at the Beirut-based International Labour Organisation said there are many modern and unexpected forms of forced labour: low or no pay, snatched passports, plus physical, sexual and mental abuse; from factories, farms and restaurants to the plush homes of the middle class.

Cahill said the Arabic press regularly features suspicious deaths of migrant workers, which campaigners against trafficking estimate are accidental murders or suicides. (Domestic work is the single most common job among young women migrants to the Gulf States, Lebanon and Jordan, with the average worker earning $100 to $300 per month.) In the last third of the programme, Edel McGinley from Migrant Rights Centre Ireland said there’s a lack of awareness about what constitutes forced labour. She told a story about a migrant worker who worked for an Irish couple, received €50 for three months’ work, was locked inside their home and finally escaped by jumping through a window.

Not for Saledidn't sound like the gravel-crunching and doorbell-ringing school of documentary-making one sometimes gets on RTÉ, which would normally be a good thing. But I wanted to hear more about those who exploit poor migrants. What kind of people were that Irish couple, for instance? What became of them? What say they? For once, I longed to hear that doorbell ring.

Ahead of a national conference on the issue, Dr Bobby Smyth from the Drug Treatment Centre Board told Tuesday's Morning Ireland(RTÉ Radio One, weekdays) people from 14 to 40 who use head shop "legal highs" have presented to A&Es with palpitations, anxiety and psychotic episodes. Jonathan McCrea and Clare McKenna also talked about the effect of these legal highs on Wednesday's The Spin(Spin 103.8, weekdays). They asked Darren, a caller, if taking drugs such as herbal ecstasy had side-effects. "You won't come home for a few days, but that's about it," Darren said. It wasn't clear whether he thought that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Just as the debate was descending into farce, however, Paul Hodkinson called in about his brother Colm, who died in 2005 after taking magic mushrooms for the first time at a party. Colm jumped over a railing on the building to his death. Although magic mushrooms are now banned, Hodkinson said new synthetic and herbal combinations “create new and unseen problems”. McCrea recalled being at a house party when another guest took them and had a bad trip: “It was extremely terrifying.” Head shops have shot up in recent years in towns around the country, but they can be both the problem and the symptom.

Why do so many young people wish to escape reality? A lot obviously do it for a lark, but what is real life like for these kids now? Rather than hear them being condemned or patronised, I’d like to hear a national debate about that.