Her tiny frame fills only a portion of the rattan chair where she sits looking much younger than her fourteen years. The new, white button-down shirt and navy blue skirt are in contrast to her bare feet. She is grasping a small green bag in her lap with arms that that are covered in scars. Like an iceberg, the scars only reveal a hint of the horror she experienced. Black hair frames her eyes that settle on something far away. Whether she is fixated on some small chip on a distant wall or on the larger hole in her heart, we cannot be sure. There is one thing that is apparent: while she is physically present in the room, she is not here. Looking at her, I hope that she knows that here she is safe but my better senses tell me that she doesn’t. Life has taught her never to believe in her safety.
“Here” is the Transitions Global shelter in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, where victims of human trafficking and sexual slavery transform into survivors and productive, valued citizens of the world. Here, Channary Pen* is sitting during her intake with the shelter director and two social workers. Here, she will learn to dream again. But I have gotten ahead of myself. Her story, although awful to bear witness to, is deserving of attention.
Channary comes from a province outside of Phnom Penh. By the young age of seven, she was selling ice and cane juice to help make money for her poverty stricken family. Her family is not unique; 35 percent of Cambodians live below the poverty line (which is defined by the Cambodian government as $0.45 a day per person). When Channary was eleven, her family was approached by a man from out of town who offered to purchase her. Whether it was the amount of money or simply the prospect of having one less child to care for, her parents accepted the offer. Her life would never be the same.
The man who purchased Channary was violent and raped her—most likely on a daily basis. What perhaps is worse, this man cut her body with a knife while raping and abusing her. These are the scars that will be an eternal reminder of her torment. At some point, the man fell ill and went to the hospital. Shockingly, he took Channary with him and managed to rape her even in the hospital. Fortunately, a neighbor took notice of her and called the police. She was rescued by a human rights group and the man is currently in prison. Channary was in captivity for not days, weeks or even months. Channary lived a hell on earth for three ghastly years.
The group who rescued Channary quickly realized that her abuse was so severe and her case so bleak she needed more support than they were able to provide. Transitions Global is known in the region for being the shelter that other shelters often bring their troubled and broken cases - girls that they cannot handle or help.
On the day of her intake—the day Channary sat in the rattan chair present in body yet gone in spirit—Transition’s TLC shelter was at full capacity both in budget and physical space. Still, they could not turn her away.
Rehabilitation for girls costs approximately $8,000. This includes shelter, dental and medical treatment, therapy and vocational opportunities. I can’t help but wonder how many people might be reading this small article and how many people might forward the article to someone else. I can’t help but wonder how many people might make a $5 contribution to Transitions Global in this young girl’s name. We might not be able to solve the problems of the world or protect every girl from the horror of sexual slavery. But we can save one girl’s life. Contact Transitions Global (www.transitionsglobal.org) and mention this article. They can ensure that your donation goes to Channary’s care. It is possible to bring her back and give her hope. You can save a little girl’s life today.
