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This I believe
“I am nameless, my identity stolen along with my innocence and childhood, my memories full of pain, my heart heavy with the inability to help those who share my circumstance, my home an unobtainable dream. I am nobody, just a number with a price tag, affordable enough to keep this world’s guilty pleasures alive; I am of no real value to anyone. I am simply a trafficked human being, herded around from place to place, someone’s easy profit at my expense.”
This is only one of the stories that share so much with the 27 million people being trafficked world wide. These people have lost everything- their homes, their families, and worst of all, their self respect- only to be considered other people’s property. They must endure the same living conditions regardless of whether they are victims of sexual exploitation or forced labor. Most live in overcrowded areas with little or no space, have scarce amounts of food and clean water and are beaten half to death with the slightest mistake. Most of the children involved in this horrendous industry are around 8 to 18 years old, but tell me when is their life going to start? When are they going to be able to wake up and not be afraid, wake up and know that there will be enough food to fill them up, wake up and be glad to begin another day instead of dread it from the moment they open their eyes? At the rate this business is growing, I don’t believe that day is soon.
I know it may seem as though this problem is far from us, the truth is it couldn’t get any closer. We, as Americans, are hosts to over 60,000 human trafficking victims a year, meaning those women and children that we pass by everyday just may be one of them, silently calling out for help from anyone who can hear them. But who can? We are wrapped up in so much that we can’t even take the time to realize that there may be something more to that girl with a black eye, or that child with a broken arm. It’s these observations that can save someone but until we open our eyes to the truth, there will be innocent people paying the ultimate price; their own lives.
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