This story contains details of sexual assault some readers may find distressing.

It was roughly 15 minutes into an "innocent" car ride with her boss when Linh started thinking she could be in danger.

The previous day she had asked him for extra hours, as she was new to Australia and needed to save money. He said he was happy to help: just come back in the morning to discuss, he told her.

She met him in the shop, surrounded by other workers — including his wife — and he suggested they drive to a nearby cafe to go over her timetable.

As soon as Linh got in the car, she says her boss leaned over, grabbed her face and kissed her.

"I did question him: 'What are you doing? Why are you doing this?' And he said to me, 'No, nothing, we just treat each other like family, and I just want to show my affection to you'," she remembers.

Linh felt nervous but she didn't back out at this point. She was young and because she hadn't lived in a multicultural place like Sydney before, she thought this may be a cultural difference.

They started driving to a cafe that was just "five minutes down the road". Then 10 minutes passed. Then 15 minutes passed. Linh didn't recognise the streets they were driving down.

"I started getting very firm with him," she says.

"I asked him, 'Where are you actually taking me? And am I going to be talking about my hours or not?' And then he got a bit aggravated when I became firm, and that's when I knew I was in a very unsafe situation.

Linh says he then leaned over and touched her, and admitted he wanted to take her to a hotel and "have fun".

"And — these are the words that he said to me — 'I just want to help you. I just want to kiss you. I just want to have fun with you. And if we can have regular time together, you don't have to work, and I can support you with your income'."

'Sex symbol' stereotypes behind sexual harassment

Linh is sharing her story in the wake of a new report showing sexual harassment of migrant women is rife in Australia, with bosses and managers among the biggest perpetrators.

About half of women on temporary visas had faced sexual harassment at work but 75 per cent of them did not report it over fears of retaliation or losing their visas, the survey found.

After the report was published by Unions NSW, dozens of women gathered in Sydney for a formal publicity event and to call for action.

One of the report's findings was that women who did report sexual harassment or reject their bosses' advances were often punished by being fired, bullied, forced to quit, or having their pay cut.

Marcela, who does not want to be identified, experienced this after rejecting an advance from her manager.

She moved to Australia to improve her English and found a job in a cafe. One day during the morning rush-hour, her manager grabbed her waist and tried to kiss her while she was making coffees.

"I just turn around and say, 'Don't kiss me, because I don't like it', in front of everyone — in front of the customers, in front of co-workers," she recalls.

"But the next day, another manager, he just called me and said, 'The reason that you were hired is just to attract the males. So you need to respond, you need to engage with them'. And then I just got fired because of that."

One of the themes that emerged in the report was men having "cultural and racist" stereotypes of migrant women and perceiving them as "sexual objects", Unions NSW boss Mark Morey said.

Linh believes the fact that she was Asian played a part in people not taking what happened to her seriously. After the incident with her boss — and to get advice on dealing with sexual harassment from customers in general — she asked a woman connected to the shop for guidance.

"That's when I knew that it was hopeless to raise anything in this shop."

'There is no justice for them'

In the general Australian population, more than 40 per cent of women and 26 per cent of men have reported experiencing workplace sexual harassment, according to a 2022 survey.

Prabha Nandagopal, a human rights lawyer, said it was a particularly serious problem for migrant women, because they were often in a more vulnerable position due to language barriers or visa status.

"They often don't report for a range of reasons. For example, they may fear losing their job, they may fear reprisals, they may fear that reporting could impact their immigration status," she said.

All these factors mean many migrant women feel they have no choice but to put up with harassment, Mr Morey says.

Linh tried reporting the incident with her boss to police, who said they couldn't do anything without evidence. Her coworkers were shocked but "too scared" to stand up for her.

She ended up working at the shop for another month, because she needed the money and was worried about finding another job.

"It makes me feel sick in my stomach [that I had to go back], because in a better world where I didn't have to struggle with friends and other expenses, where I had a family to return to any time I want, I wouldn't think I would ever return there," she said.

Marcela also felt like she couldn't speak up about the sexual harassment she faced, because she wouldn't be able to afford to live in Sydney if her shifts got cut and she was worried about her rights on a temporary visa.

The union has recommended establishing independent migrant worker centres in each state and territory to help victims. Other recommendations included removing the student visa working hours cap, which it says is used by employers to "threaten" women with cancelling their visa, and making it easier to report sexual harassment.

Linh, who graduated from her social work degree and now works at a union, wants to see more action taken to prevent sexual harassment occurring in the first place.

"Nobody deserves to go through this," she said.

"It's really difficult as it is, for migrants … who come to a completely different country with a completely different system, having a new language and culture to pick up, and then having to go through this."