CONCLUSION

Voices for Life: While Lucy and I were at the university, we decided to form a youth club called ‘Voices for Life’. It is a group of young people who speak out against various ills in our society. Fortunately we found many young peo­ple who are willing to learn and spread the mes­sage in their families and among their peers. It is our desire that the reflections made from our traumatic experiences be used to protect, help and empower others. The Voices for Life club has as its aim the pro­tection of life and promotion of a just and free society. It members are young people from all walks of life.

 
Dear reader, you can also form the ‘Voices for Life’ in your school or tertiary institution. We do not want the abuse, abduction and trafficking that happened to Lucy and I to continue in our country. Our effort could be little but it will go a long way in saving lives. There are so many girls and boys that are abused, used for money rituals or trafficked as sex slaves. If we do not speak up for them, no one else will.
 

The following are key points to help members understand what the ‘Voices for Life’ group is all about.
 
1.    Be charitable to yourself and others. Keep away         from evil thoughts that harm others such as                 violence,   rape, and killings.
2.   Be courageous to report all forms of abuse                  (sexual,  physical, verbal), ritual killings 

      and human trafficking in your family and area to 

      the police and those in higher au­thority.
3.      Be careful with the kind of friends you make. Some people do not have good in­tentions for you.
4.      Be a hardworking and creative citizen. Avoid shortcuts to making money.
5.      Be positive about life. One could be a vic­tim today but a survivor and overcomer for others.
6.      Be kind in giving a listening ear to victims and survivors. They are our brothers and sisters and not                 contaminated human be­ings
 7.    Be prayerful. We need God’s protection always

 
 

FREEDOM

Joyful Freedom Aunty Agatha and I were in tears while we listened to Lucy’s story. She had gone tru­ly through a lot. She would have given up on life if it was not for the grace of God upon her. We embraced her warmly and wept together for a while.

 The next day Aunty Agatha decided that she would pay for Lucy’s education at any univer­sity of her choice in the country. A young woman who had gone such a traumatic experience de­served every support and love. Oh how Lucy jumped for joy! She was going to share the good ­news with her parents who were already so eager to see her. I went with Aunty Agatha’s driver to accompany Lucy home in Edo State. What great joy there was in her family after seven long years!

When we returned to Lagos, I was exhausted and feverish. My body became weak from the shock, fatigue and relief from my experience in the hands of Mrs Laraba and her accomplices. I fell ill for some days and Aunty Agatha took good care of me, with Betty’s assistance.

 After I recovered, she made sure I ate and rest­ed very well before involving myself again in the activities of the house and shop. I never stopped thanking God for rescuing me from the evil ones.  A few months later I got admission into the university to study medicine. It was a tough course but I was determined to succeed. I ex­celled in all my exams and finally graduated as a neuro-surgeon. My joy knew no bounds when I was conferred with the degree of my dreams!

A Special Gift One evening, Aunty Agatha called me her room. She brought out a little box. I recognised it as the box that her late mother gave her. She gave it to me as a present and said I should have custody of it now that I was a grown woman.  I was moved to tears when I opened it. She never stopped being a woman of joyful surprises. Her reason for handing it over to me was to let me know that she was very proud of me and glad that I did not disappoint her.

In the little box was a special set of jewellery. She wanted me to use them on my wedding day. She then prayed for me and asked God to bless with a good husband and children. I could only sob out of joy and gratitude. Indeed my mother in heaven was watching over me and she had sent me to this good mother, my beloved Aunty Agatha. 

LUCY'S STORY

Lucy’s Story  Aunty Agatha listened attentively to my story and was quite shocked to find out that her friend Mrs Laraba had such bad intentions to get rid of me. She called the police and they came quickly to the house. I was asked to write a statement at the police station the next day and Mrs Laraba was picked up. She looked at me in disbelief. Her evil schemes had been exposed.

Aunty Agatha could not stop thanking God for bringing me back safely. She was thankful for Lucy and I. She had a great dinner for us, inviting neighbours and friends. What joy to be alive and back home!

One day when Kosa was out of town, Doda went to the house to visit Lucy. Knowing that Lucy was alone in the house, he made sexual ad­vances to her and when she refused, he raped her. He became very violent and threatened Lucy that if she told Kosa what had happened, he would change the story and convince his girlfriend that it was Lucy who had made advances to sleep with him.

Her first week in the den was hell. She was beaten daily and made to sleep with several men every evening. She hardly had enough food to eat. Here she was in this unknown place; a sex slave, living worse than an animal, with no free­dom. The rule was “do what they tell you and not what you think.” It was and is still a very dehumanizing experience. She felt like committing suicide on several occasions. It seemed God and her loved ones had abandoned her. “What was there to live for? Better to die than continue in the den,” she would often tell herself.

On a second thought, she decided to fight back psychologically and live. She was determined to seek for a way out of the den, no matter how long it would take. You could trust no one there with your secrets but her eyes always raged for free­dom. She wanted to see her parents and siblings again and these thoughts gave her courage to live.

Tobi the truck driver was the only one she could confide in. They arrived in the same week. He was made a sex slave and housekeeper for the boss. He suffered greatly. They had attempted to escape on two occasions but their plans were foiled. After living in the den for some years the boss began to entrust responsibilities to them but both of them never lost hope of regaining their freedom.
Therefore when Nkem arrived and Lucy saw in her the younger sister she needed to protect, she took the opportunity to escape with her  even if it meant being caught and killed.  Fortunately for them Tobi knew  so many routes and made friends at the Nigerian border so he could drive in and out without of­ficial documents

Aunty Agatha was eager to help Lucy get back to her family too. She gave Lucy a phone to call her parents and siblings. Her father could not be­lieve his ears when he heard his daughter’s voice. For the past five years he had been praying for her safe return home after she went missing. Her family lived in Edo state so they could not come to meet her right away in Lagos. It was arranged for Lucy to travel back home to them.  

The night before Lucy returned home, she narrated her story. She recalled that at the age of seventeen, after completing her secondary school, she moved to the city to live with her cousin Kosa. She was much older than Lucy and had a good job. Lucy, through Kosa’s help, got a job as sales girl. She worked so as to save up for her tertiary education since her parents could not afford to send her to the university. Lucy’s cousin had a boyfriend named Doda who visited them often.

 

Lucy was trapped. She wept bitterly. How was she going to continue living with her cousin after this horrific experience? When Kosa returned to the house Lucy narrated her ordeal. Kosa was in­furiated by her boyfriend’s act. They reported the case to the police and after further investigations, it was discovered that Doda had done the same to some other girls who did not have the courage to speak out. He was arrested and imprisoned.

Unknown to Kosa, Doda was also a member of a big bad gang that was into human trafficking. His gang members abducted Lucy on her way from work one evening and sold her to the owner of the den outside Nigeria. She cried and wailed but no help came for her. She met some other girls in the same situation in the den. They had either been abducted or lured by some friends to this way of life.

REUNION

 

A Day of Rejoicing: We got to Aunty Agatha’s house late in the af­ternoon due to the heavy traffic in Lagos. What joy to be safely back home! The security man let us into the compound and ran to tell her I was back. Aunty Agatha came running to embracing me. We wept and hugged each for a long while. “My child, where have you been? What hap­pened to you?” She then noticed Lucy standing next to me. “Nkem, I see you have a friend here. Who is she?” “Her name is Lucy,” I replied. God used her to bring me safely back home. Come inside my children. You must be starving. Lifting up her hands to the heavens she prayed, “God, I thank you!”

 An Ordeal Never to be Desired 

Aunty Agatha wanted to hear every detail of my ordeal. She was not feeling too well during her trip so she decided to cut it short to four days instead of a week. She returned home on the evening I went missing. She was told I had not returned from the shop at past 9pm, which was strange. She called one of her sales girls who told her that they did not see me in the shop all day. Something was certainly wrong somewhere. Betty told her I was last seen with Mrs Laraba who offered to drop me at the shop that morning. Mrs Laraba’s phone number was not reachable for two days and fi­nally when it rang she said she had left me at the door of the shop and was also shocked to know I was missing.

 
Immediately Aunty Agatha developed a high pressure. She went with Betty to the police sta­tion to report that I was missing. Mrs Laraba went to the house to calm her down and made up a story that it was possible I ran away with a young man. Aunty Agatha did not believe her knowing how she had raised me and kept pray­ing for my safe return

AN ESCAPE

A Miraculous Escape: Lucy was a truly a God-sent to me. She saw my tears, my wailing and continuous pleading to get out of the den. I kept crying and saying, “this is not where I ought to be. I was abducted and brought here against my will. I have a mother looking for me at this moment.” Lucy was moved by my tears and saw in me a younger sister in need of help. She was willing to help me get out of there. It seems she had always had the desire to escape from the den and this was a good opportunity for her too. She knew the risks, death was the penalty if caught but she was ready to help me. 

On my second day at the brothel she told me to keep pretending to be very sick, so I lay on the bed feigning sick as instructed. She gave me some pills which really made me sick. They used to put such pills in drinks of some very rich clients so as to steal cash and jewellery from them. I became very weak, and could hardly stand all day. So when the boss came to check if I was ready to be of use to some men that evening, he found me too sick to be on my feet. He shook his head and wondered if Mrs Laraba had brought him a ‘use­ful product.’ He left it to Lucy’s care and judge­ment to ensure I was okay as soon as possible. He did not want to waste time and money on a girl that was of no use. I heard Lucy assuring him that she would make sure I would be ready for work soon.  Late that night, when the other girls were away, Lucy woke me up and asked me to quickly get dressed into one of her ‘work costumes.’ She gave me something to drink and I felt strength­ened. I kept praying for God’s assistance to get out of this place of hell all the while I lay sick.

 

She knew there was the truck for collecting rubbish in the compound. The truck driver, Tobi, often left at around 2.00am to the dumping site as he had to deliver hard drugs along the way to roadside clients and sometimes bury the bodies of dead sex workers in a mass grave out of town. Of all the girls in the den, Lucy was the closest to him. They both arrived at the den in the same week; scared, beaten and sexually abused. They had survived there for the past five years, and had now ‘settled in’ to the business.  Lucy told me we had to join the truck to get out of the den. That was my only chance of es­cape. The truck driver would not let her down on this occasion. We got onto the back of the truck, covered with so much litter. We did not mind the smell, all we thought of was getting out safely.

 

After dumping the rubbish, Tobi drove for hours to the Nigerian border and helped us to cross into Badagry in Lagos State. He wished us luck and told Lucy not to forget him. Lucy had some naira with her and so she paid for our trans­port fare to my mother’s house in Lagos Island. Thank God I still remembered the house address.

PROSTITUTION

Den of Prostitutes: Mrs Laraba figured out that if she let me go I would tarnish her image. Therefore she thought of another plan to dispose of me or keep me where I would never be able to find my way back home. I heard her making a phone call and then she drove for hours to an unknown destination.

 I kept on praying to God to deliver me from the evil schemes that lay ahead of me. I fell asleep again and only woke up at the sound of people around me. “Where am I?” I asked. I looked around me and found a group of young girls star­ing at me. When I finally came to full conscious­ness I was told I was in a brothel of prostitutes. “Oh my God, how did I get here? What was I do­ing here?” I then remembered Mrs Laraba. I wept bitterly!

The other girls felt sorry for me but could only say, “welcome to our den.” “Oh my God, why have you abandoned me? Virgin Mary where are you?” I called out to my mother and asked her if she was still watching over me. This was the sad­dest day of my life.

I was told I was in a place far away outside Nigeria. Mrs Laraba must have driven across the border to dump me here. By evening I saw all the girls dressed half naked, with all sorts of skimpy clothes and make-up on their faces. I was told to wait for my initiation and kept in the care of an older girl named Lucy. I asked the initiation meant and what it was going to be like. She told me out rightly, “here we earn our living by sleeping with men. You do not have to like it, you just do what they tell you. The Madam that brought you here will be heavily paid while you work for hours using your body for money.”

I nearly fainted! “So all these stories of human trafficking and forced sex workers were true?” “God please deliver me from this den of prosti­tutes!” I cried and cried. I could not imagine my­self being disvirgined by the sort of men she mentioned to me. I immediately started thinking of a way out of there. This isn’t what God wants for me. No, I will not allow them to ruin my life. I begged Lucy to help me run away, to escape from this dungeon of hell.

I did not sleep that night. I stayed awake, trembling and praying not to be called out to have sex with any of those bad men. Lucy was kind enough to protect me that night. When the owner of the brothel came asking for the new girl, she told him she was very sick and needed a day or two to be well enough for the job. At the sound of his voice I cringed in fear, not wanting him to see or remember my face.

The other girls returned at about 5am. One had a bad cut on her face, she said her client beat her up when she refused to go for more than five rounds with him. She looked weak and in much pain. Lucy helped to clean the cut and apply some ointment on it. Another girl started vomiting profusely, she was pregnant and had been told to abort the pregnancy but the baby refused to die. She was told she had to “flush it out” to continue working or starve to death. Her ill health and the baby were bad news to this business. I said to myself, “what cruelty! No woman deserved this kind of treatment.”

In this den of sex slaves, if you want to run away, you must leave and escape as far as pos­sible. Hanging around in a city or village nearby the den was dangerous and could lead to one be­ing killed. The girls narrated so many frightening stories.  One thing was clear from look of the faces of these young girls, most of them were lured to this place and way of life. They were working as sex slaves against their will. They were far away from home, and often felt betrayed, used, destroyed and now too ashamed to return home.

 

BETRAYAL

 

Here I was in this shrine abducted and betrayed by this close friend of my new mother.  Baba shook his head and sighed while listen­ing to Mrs Laraba. When she finished narrating her story, Baba told her that she had made a great mistake by betraying a friend’s trust, and that he would not be a party to it. He said he had been a source of her wealth for several years now but on this child that lay before him he saw bad luck ahead of them. He advised her to take me back home. If she could not take me back to my new mother, she must make sure I stayed alive, for the light in me, the guiding spirits and the forces around me were pure.

They did not know I heard and understood every word of their conversation. Mrs Laraba asked the two men to untie and lift me to the back seat of her jeep. Having done as she instructed them, she gave them some money and thanked the Baba for his advice. I kept praying to God in my heart. I could not imagine that someone so pretty could be so evil. Sometimes those we think are close friends may have hidden, unkind agendas for being close to us. We must always ask God to give us good and true friends. It was now late in the night. I could tell we were driving through the bush from the sounds of night insects and leaves. We finally got to the tarred road and she wound down the side glasses for some cool breeze. I was grateful for the fresh air, and at this point on this shocking journey, I felt very hungry. I was able to endure the hunger from my life experience under the Lagos bridge.

 I started imaginig what story Mrs Laraba would tell my new mother when we got back home. I did not know something worse lay ahead of me. “Oh God, do not abandon me,” was my prayer. Suddenly she stopped, came  down from her car, and touched me. I murmured some words as a sign that I was gaining consciousness. She did not want me to be aware of what was happening to me.