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Sold into the sex trade

sold
What does it feel like to be sold into the sex trade as a young girl? I can’t imagine the horror of a 12 year-old girl being forced to leave home and then be sold to a brothel and then to strange men. Think about it. Put yourself in their shoes. What night terrors must they face? How would they e…
By Seth Barnes
What does it feel like to be sold into the sex trade as a young girl? I can’t imagine the horror of a 12 year-old girl being forced to leave home and then be sold to a brothel and then to strange men. Think about it. Put yourself in their shoes. What night terrors must they face? How would they even begin to process the pain?
Amanda Howard, a World Racer, helps us get a sense for what it must be like:
Girl 1“We had dinner at the night market near the Red Light District of Chiang Mai. In the middle of our meal, a young girl approached the table selling jasmine. She was going through a process calling “seasoning”. This meant that she was already owned by a brothel, and through this job, they were prepping her for interaction with strangers. They were preparing her to be a prostitute.
She wouldn’t be able to return “home” that night until she had sold all of her flowers, so as I was pondering how to actually help her, I wondered if buying all of her flowers and sending her back to the brothel early would really even be better. I offered her food, but she declined. As I was racking my brain for a solution for her, her glassy eyes looked around in fear and desperation and she slipped away. The hint of jasmine lingered.

We walked through the market. A young boy quickly caught my attention. He too was selling flowers. He too was being seasoned. He too was a slave; a soon-to-be sex slave, and no matter how he felt, his identity would soon be stripped and he would be transformed into a “ladyboy”, sold as a woman.

The sound of the girl sobbing brought me back to my senses and I realized that I was staring. Most of my team was further ahead, but they had stopped at this point as well.

Her world had just come crashing down. I wondered if it was her first time. I knew it wouldn’t be her last. Even if it was her first experience, I knew that she would be sold as a virgin yet again. They would send her to the doctor, stitch her back up, and resell her like she was new, just to make more money off of her. This process would continue as long as her body would allow.

She wore her hair long. It was beautiful and dark and flowed down her back. She looked so young, so innocent, so heartbroken, so hopeless. She stood in the arms of a woman next to a man on a motorcycle and she was sobbing hysterically. The woman wrapped her arms around her, but she had a smirk on her face and the other women simply snickered in the background. They got their money out of her, and they knew that it was only a matter of time before she would become accustomed to the business. She hid her face in the woman’s arms, but he continued to speak to her.

“Are you okay? Are you feeling any better? I hope it doesn’t hurt too bad. Well, at least you can go home now.”

I wanted to run back, grab her out of their arms, and throw any amount of money at them just to save her. I wanted to scream and tell her that she was loved.

“You are precious! You are beloved! You are NOT alone! You are still pure! You have a heavenly Father that has NOT abandoned you, so don’t give up hope!”

I choked back the tears and kept the prayers flowing from my lips as we continued to walk down the street.”

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