Warning: Sensitive subject matter. Not for the ignorance-is-bliss reader.
Although I have posted a few times about my internship and my experiences in the red light area or with the women I work with, I don’t know how much you, my reader, actually know about the individual stories of these women and girls. Perhaps you’ve read about cases of human trafficking in the news or maybe you’re one of those people who likes to pretend these evils don’t exist. If that’s the case, you can stop reading here. I hate to share such depressing news with you all, but that’s partly why I’m here—to learn and share my experiences.
This story is about a girl my age. People always ask me why I do the work that I do, and the reason is girls like Mia*. Most of the women I interact with on a day-to-day basis are older, in their 40s generally. However, there are a handful of girls I meet who are my age. As you can imagine, this is heartbreaking and disturbing. I don’t know what it is about Mia but I can’t get her out of my head. She is strong-willed, energetic and fun. She is beautiful and charming. She likes to joke around and live life on her own terms. She is a modern-day slave.
Her story starts in her village. When she was about 15 years old, she was dating someone she thought she could trust. Her lover told her they could come to the city and live with his family, start a new life together. He promised her they’d find her a good job and they’d live happily ever after. When they arrived in the city, he sold her to a madam in the red light district. She never saw him again and wonders every single day why he betrayed her. Being the fiery young woman she is, she initially refused to do the work they asked of her. She fought back against the brothel owner over and over again, challenging the lifestyle her lover had left her. When the madam was fed up with her opposition, she was locked in a room for over 10 days. An attempt to break her will.
It finally worked. She had to give in or continue to suffer. At 15 years old, she became a sex worker. When I was 15, I was going to cheerleading practice after school, spending time with friends, going shopping, gossiping, and going on vacation with my family. Mia was having sex with men for money and then handing over her earnings to her madam, her new boss. She was living in a brothel with other women in sex work, eating one meal a day and never having any time to rest. Her arms and neck are covered in scars, possibly from her initial days of refusal, possibly from rowdy customers over the years. In many cases, the girls are expected to stay until they pay off their debts. What are Mia’s debts? Rs 180,000. Personally, I can’t see how she’ll ever pay that off. Especially because she sends several thousand rupees home every month to help support her younger brother. She is incredible for supporting her family under these circumstances, rather than focusing on erasing her own debts. She is incredible for surviving the last 7 years of torture and enslavement. She is incredible for not allowing her circumstances to destroy her spirit. Why did her lover betray her and sell her? Why isn’t she at college or even just working in the fields in her village with her family? Why does society look the other way, allowing these atrocities to occur? Why is this her life and not mine? Why was I allowed to grow up in a comfortable home in New England, go to school and travel to India? Why wasn’t I sold into slavery but Mia was?
I don’t know the answers, but I hope that somehow the work that I’m doing will make their lives better even in the smallest of ways. If I can help Mia survive, I will feel like I’ve accomplished something. Some people question whether it’s worth saving one person when you’re dealing with such a widespread issue. I think it is. I think saving Mia would be worth it.
*Name changed
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