Trafficking and HIV

by Kamala Sarup
October 7, 2009

http://www.weeklyblitz.net/298/trafficking-and-hiv

I organized a program on HIV/AIDS and Trafficking in Nepal.

I wrote this diary about my friend, who used to work in a brothel. My first meeting with her began a strange day for me. In a way, everyday I have been meeting one person or another and, whatever it may be, among those I´m meeting, she is a bit different from the rest. In fact, this is an important part of our friendship. For what it´s worth, in such a dismal situation, I am delighted to have made this new friend.

She told me her story:"My daily routine has started. This large city of brothels

isterrifying to look at, with its tall buildings. It feels as if everyonewho lived inside felt satisfied and they quenched their hunger. I don'tlike even to remember. I was buried in my mind's inner conflict of thatreally.

Due to the necessity to sell my body every evening, there is alwayswithin me an unknown fear or terror or fright, creating an empire ofits own. I felt restless about how I made my living; I was disgusted atevery moment with that kind of life.

The notorious brothel where I was living was a place where thousandsof girls like me had to sell their bodies for cheap prices. Alas! Howhard and full of terror it was to live in that environment! When Ithink of it, my heart trembles, even today. Although the pain within mehad another chief reason and that was the memory never left me. Ialmost always remembered my village: the mountains, the waterfalls and the forests that extended far and wide looked as hard as life itself;whether uphill or downhill, they were filled with crowds.

When I went to the market with my mother, we had to cross throughdangerous, wild forests. My mother had a dream exactly like mine, whichher daughter would get some education by going to the city and would beable to stand on her own to make her living. But I was brought to thisterrible brothel, sold by my own uncle's son. I was sold for justtwenty thousand rupees, and I came to know later that it was a brothelwhere thousands of girls were sold and were forced to sell their bodiesfor a small amount of money.

In a place where human vultures spend money for foul play with rawflesh and where one´s prestige was ruined for just a handful of coins,how could I survive? My heart was filled with depression and anguish,but I was unable to express any of my feelings to anyone, because thetrade of female bodies was found everywhere, from large lodges tohotels to the yellow mansions of that city. In that place where girlswere bargained for everyday, selling them and turning them intoprostitutes by force and then inflicting untold tortures on them werejust common incidents. Sexually depraved rich men quenched theirthirsts with me everyday."

She was obviously scared as she told me her story. Crying, shesaid, "It was a great joke that my rights over my own body weresnatched away from me. Questions often tormented me from time to time.After all, what did it really mean for a person to live as a woman? Didit mean just providing cheap enjoyment that others could have by payingmoney?

My hatred of my existence as a woman came out in the form ofthousands of such questions. What a pity! My body was torn and snatchedby hundreds everyday. Every time I saw the mistresses of the brothelsaround me, I felt an inferiority complex. All the men who came werehungry to fulfill their sexual passion. I felt a strong hatred

towardsmen. But despite that fact, I had to sell my body.

My life, in fact, was quite terrible as I had to live 24 hours a daysurrounded by agents and customers. At the gates of every building,there were agents busy haggling for our bodies as if we were beasts upfor auction. And we waited for the customers inside a very

dark andfoul-smelling room.

Who was there to love me in that world of money? Everywhere, therewas alcohol, money and only customers. At that time, I was completelyrobbed. The value of my body and my soul was completely depleted. Andnow, I have returned to my own country with the germs of HIV within me,after serving at that brothel for so many years. I have become emptynow. Coming back here, I have come back with an empty mind and carryinga terrible disease."

I asked her a lot of questions, only some of which she could answer.I came close to her and sat down. "I have arranged a job for you in an office. You must forget your past," I told her everything in one breath.

She cried in response and said, "My past was filled with suchtorture that, even if the criminals received capital punishment, itwould not heal my wounds or erase the stain upon my character, thereasons why I am suffering from HIV today." She cried and I moved awayfrom that place. I don't even like to look back. I don't know where togo from here.

receive the latest by email: subscribe to weekly blitz's free mailing list