Their names
are Rukia (24 years old) and Nurr (20 years old). They went to school and had hopes and dreams,
just like many other girls. Among their
ambitions was earning a living to help support their families – especially
their moms. One day someone offered them an opportunity in another country – "a
steady job with reasonable wages working as house girls" was the promise. The offer was exciting. It wouldn’t be forever. They would work hard, then come back and help
their Mamas. I met these two beautiful
young ladies a couple weeks ago. They did go away and they did return, both disillusioned
and damaged.
Let me share
Rukia’s story in her own words:
I dropped out of school in Form three
(grade 11) due to lack of school fees. A
couple years later, one of the community members (known to us) connected me to
a job in Jordan. I worked for two years
with no communication back home and no salary.
My boss used to tell me that he is sending my salary home to my mother. I
came to realize that it was a lie when I demanded to see the transactions to
confirm if my parents really received the money. They had not. When I finally requested my boss allow me to
visit my people back home when the contract had terminated, he took my passport
and kept it and started mistreating me by beating me. I used to sleep on the floor without a blanket,
no food and isolated from other family members.
One day I woke up and refused to work.
In order to be allowed to go back home, they locked me in a room and
beat me up which ended up damaging my brain.
He then sent me away and showed me the direction to the embassy. While at the embassy, I found another lady
who was going back to Kenya (Nairobi). She was asked to help me trace the agent
from Nairobi to help me get back home to Bungoma but while in Nairobi, I was
taken to Qatar where things got even worse. There was no food and no salary. I worked for two months hoping to get some
pay but all was in vain until one of the workers sympathized with me and deported
me back to Kenya. I was picked up by my
aunt in Nairobi and taken back to Bungoma.
Due to the frustration and harassment I experienced, my brain was
damaged and I am still on medication. If
given a chance to go outside the country again, I cannot accept and I always discourage
youths from going to work outside Kenya.
When I met
Rukia, she had been back in Bungoma for over a year. She just had a baby who
was born premature. She is really trying
to get her life back together but it is not an easy road. Her story is similar to Nurr’s who worked in
Qatar for 9 months. Nurr also suffered
deep mental anguish and is now struggling to go outside her mother’s house.
In November,
2018, with the help of another Salvation Army territory, the Kenya West Women’s
Ministry and Projects departments engaged in an Anti-Human Trafficking (AHT) project,
now known as “Oyana” (Swahilli for ‘inspire and uplift’). The goal of the project is to help
decrease human trafficking incidences and reduce the vulnerabilities of at-risk
people in communities through raising awareness, promoting greater access to
preventative and restorative services and strengthening the AHT networks and
referral systems. The project is now active in 3 divisions under the direction
of Major Margaret Njeri. Several other
employees, including on the ground field coordinators, are part of the team. It was during a recent visit to the Bungoma division
that I met Rukia and Nurr.
Purity, our
field coordinator in that area, has built a supportive relationship with Rukia
over the past few months. She told Rukia I was in the area and just wanted to
say hello. We found Rukia visiting her mom whose one room flat is small but
clean. Mom is sitting outside operating her tiny market. As we chat with Rukia, I can tell that a
growing trust has emerged with Purity. Rukia
sits on the floor in front of us and tells us about the baby who’s doing well
now. She assures Purity she is taking her medication. The scars from her out-of-the-country work
life (what she describes as brain damage) has resulted in some mental health
problems that need treatment. Purity
reminds Rukia of the Community Youth Group which meets every Friday and how
they are starting some training on catering skills. Rukia is eager to
attend. My visit is short but I’m so
thankful for the few brief moments to interact with this beautiful girl. She is shy but friendly. Her eyes are sad. I sense her dignity feels broken as she takes
my hand when I offer to pray with her. Purity is hopeful that Rukia will
eventually heal from her trauma and she’s committed to working with her for the
long haul.
When we get
to Nurr’s house, the story is a little different. We meet her Mom just outside
the small rental compound. Her name is Yasmin. Purity has been here several
times and tells me how Yasmin cries so often over her daughter. Nurr had been the main bread winner for the
family before she was lured away. Now,
the family feels hopeless because Nurr is not the same person she was a year
ago. We go inside to a small dark room.
When Purity enquires about Nurr, her Mom goes into the next room and returns to
say Nurr is in bed (though it’s mid-afternoon) but she will get up. Purity
knows that unlike Rukia, Nurr is very withdrawn and has yet to speak to her.
Purity has told me not to expect any conversation. Nurr comes out of the room dressed in her
Muslim head gear and long dress. She smiles and whispers a slight “hi”. Purity is
quite happy since this is a big improvement since her last visit. Nurr takes a
laundry tub and begins to wash a few articles of clothes just outside where we
are sitting, with her back to us. We spend a few moments talking to Yasmin
until her other daughter, Leila, comes by. I learn that Leila is 19 and hasn’t
been to school since leaving Form 2 (grade 10) because there isn’t money for
school fees and now her Mom also wants her to stay home with Nurr. While the family is Muslim, the Mom doesn’t
hesitate to let me pray with them and comments “the Christians pray for us
too.”
These young
women have been wounded by circumstances. Like millions of others around the world, real
stories are rising from the ashes of deception, control and abuse of
power. Rukia and Nurr know firsthand
what it is to be mistreated in ways that now leave them struggling to re-find
their value. They were traded for someone else’s benefit. Their rights were
violated and now they are at risk for repetitive incidents. The efforts being
made here are part of a worldwide attempt to fight this social evil, to help decrease
such instances, and take action in providing restorative measures to help restore broken self-worth. The Oyana project includes partnerships with
schools, health providers, social services, churches, and government officials.
It’s only just begun AND poly, poly (Swahili for ‘slowly, slowly’) we believe a
difference can be made.
I called
this blog “Their names are …” because I believe people should not have
labels. When writing reports for the
project, the term ‘survivors’ was used as a way to refer to any person (like
Rukia and Nurr) who were victims of trafficking in some form. Even children
were identified with this tag. During our visit to Bungoma, we talked about
making a change to “people who have survived being trafficked”. I am a strong proponent of identifying a
person as a person – they have a name. They are not their circumstance. Their names are …
Human
trafficking is evil and it is a crime. Around the world, it is thought to be
one of the fastest growing criminal activities. It can show up as forced
labour, sexual slavery, commercial sexual exploitation or coercion, and even as
human organ extractions. It is a
condemnation of any person’s human rights and it can happen anytime and
anywhere. We may not be able to fix this
problem globally but we must not remain silent or complacent when any
opportunity for intervention comes our way.
Purity gives Rukia a small gift for the baby
Major Margaret and Purity offer some oil and flour to Nurr's mom to encourage her.
