These are true stories, among tens of thousands, recounted by survivors of human trafficking. If you are unfamiliar with how trafficking works in practice, these stories will help you see what is happening time and again around the world. The names have been changed to protect their identity.
From Thailand
My name is Hakim and I am eighteen years old. I am Rohingya. We are Muslim ethnic minority in Burma, but we are given no citizenship. We have been called one of the most persecuted peoples in the world. I met an old man who told me of work at a place in the capital city of Naypyidaw. When I arrived, I was tied up and drugged. I woke to the sound of the ocean. I had been stolen away from my home and family. My captors beat me repeatedly. I was less then human to them, for I learned they intended to sell me. The boat landed on the coast of Thailand and I was taken deep into a mangrove forest with many other Rohingya, to a camp. There was no food, I ate leaves to survive. I am one of the lucky ones. My camp was discovered by Thai soldiers and my captors fled. I now live in a Thai government shelter, I do not know when I will be able to return home.
From Moldova
My name is Anjali and I was a sex slave in UAE. I am from rural Moldova and my family is poor. When my friend told me she worked in a boutique in Dubai and that I could too, I jumped at the chance. I flew to the Ukraine, then to Dubai. I was met by a Russian woman and she took me to a flat with six other girls from Eastern Europe. She told me I had been sold. She took my passport away and said I must see clients. I refused. They gave me no food. They kicked and punched me. I was weak from abuse and starvation so I agreed to see clients. They took all the money I earned. I saw up to 12 clients a day. I finally escaped and found a charity to help me return to my country.
From Romania
My name is Ana. I am Romanian and was trafficked into prostitution when I was eighteen. My life was never easy. My father beat my mother, my sister and me. After my mother divorced him and remarried, my stepfather was even worse. He left and we were alone and hungry. A friend of my stepfather’s said I could make good money in the UK working with his son. My mother begged me to go. I went because I knew the money would help my family. When I got to the UK, I lived a nightmare worse than before. The son trapped me in his home and raped me. Eventually he took me to a brothel. I was always watched, sometimes denied food so I wouldn’t get fat and the men did not use condoms. I lived this eleven hours a day, seven days a week for three years until a police raid set me free, but my mind and my body still relive the nightmare every day.
From Bulgaria
My name is Elena. I am 23 now and living back in my home country of Bulgaria. I live with my mother, father and sisters. I am free to go to the grocery store and see friends if I choose, but I was not this way before. I was tricked and sold into prostitution in Western Europe for nine long months. Every day I would pray to see my mother’s face again, eat her cooking, watch my younger sisters play. To be with my family again, this would be like heaven on earth. But now that I escaped and I am home, it is not the same. Everyone looks at me differently. Like I am dirty. I try to smile for my mother, but I do not know who I am anymore.
From the United States
My name is Emily and I’m from a good middle class family on the east coast. Most people would look at me and think that my life would have nothing to do with human trafficking, but they would be wrong. I worked as a waitress as a teenager. A friendly middle aged man made polite conversation as I waited on him. He asked me about my ideal guy, my ideal place to live. I thought nothing of it, other than odd curiosity on his part. Later on a younger guy comes into the restaurant. He fit my ideals to a T. He was handsome and from the city I wanted to live in. After a while, he convinced me to travel with him to Seattle. Once there, he suggested that I work as a stripper. I made so much money the first couple days, ten times what I made as waitress. Soon this man told me that we were moving on to Nevada. It was only the concern of a friend from high school who contacted my parents that saved me. Later on I learned I was on my way to be sold into the world of sex trafficking. My “dream” guy and the middle aged men were part of a sex trafficking ring. If it could happen to me, it could easily happen to any girl.
From Greece
My name is Markos. I am Roma by birth, but have grown up Greek. My mother was a sixteen year old girl from a poor family in Romania. When she found out she was pregnant with me, she was terrified. Her family could barely afford to feed themselves. Her father knew someone who knew someone in Greece and before my mother could object she was moved across the border, where she was held against her will until she gave birth to me. I was taken from her as soon as I was born and sold on the black market for 4,100 US dollars.