Modern-Day Slavery

Is slavery really over or has it just been disguised under different names?

Modern-Day Slavery is prevalent in society, though not termed as that, which makes it harder to recognize. Many kids are trapped in forced labor. They are owned, controlled, and dehumanized by their guardians. Parents who cannot afford to train their kids send them off to live with people, who in turn exploit them for personal or commercial gain. Millions of kids around the world are trapped in this situation.

Soma’s story is about a young girl who was forced into sexual slavery by her guardian.

Soma’s Story

My father died when I was twelve years old, leaving my mother with five children and no means to care for them. My parents were part of the school of thought that men should make the financial provision while the woman takes care of the children and home. So when my father died, the financial provision stopped. Things became so hard for us. We moved from our residence in Lagos to Aba because the cost of living was cheaper. My mum started working four jobs, but it didn’t bring enough money to feed, pay school fees, cloth us, and pay the rent. As the first child, I had to stop my education for a while to help my mum make enough money to take care of the family. I hawked oranges in the day and helped my mum in her alcohol business at night. This situation continued for two years until what seemed like a ray of sunshine happened.

On one of my hawking ordeal, I ran into my mum’s old friend and classmate. She asked me why I was hawking, and I told her the whole story. She sympathized with me and promised to visit the house later to speak with my mum. She came to visit that weekend and talked to my mum about taking me with her to Abuja. She had come to town for some business and was to leave the week after. She needed someone to help her out with her business and promised she would put me in school to complete my education. Initially, my mum was hesitant, she didn’t want her first child to be away from her, but that was the best option we had at the time. At least one child would be off her hands, and she could focus on taking care of the remaining four. The week after, I packed my bags and followed Mrs. Kodi to Abuja.

Mrs. Kodi was married with two kids. She and her husband owned a “restaurant and bar” shop in a road transportation company in Jabi-Abuja, which was very popular among travelers. Her restaurant was known for its delicious dry meat, spicy cow meat, and beautiful waitresses. She made sure every waitress was as attractive as the food they served; that was her selling point. The customer was always right in her restaurant and could do whatever they wanted; no employee was to oppose except you wanted to lose your job. There was a service called “point-and-kill”; customers could pick any waitress they wanted and have sex with them, as long as they paid the extra fee. It was called “home service.” As a result, men trooped in.

At the time I moved in with her, I was fourteen. She said I was too young to work at the restaurant, so I stayed at home and did the house chores instead. I cleaned the house and tended to everyone’s needs. Anytime I made a mistake, I was tied to a wooden bench — “brain-reset-bench” as we called it — and flogged mercilessly to serve as a deterrent. According to Mrs. Kodi, she was preparing me to work at the restaurant, and I could not afford to make mistakes that would cost her money. Occasionally, she would enter my room and ask me to take off all my clothes so she would examine my body growth. She would inspect my breasts, thighs, and buttocks while making a note.

“Mhmm!” She would say. “You are almost there. Just a few months more, and you’ll be ready”.

One evening, two months after I turned fifteen, she came into my room with her son, Daniel. She whispered something to him and turned to me.

“Soma, you are ready to start working at the restaurant, but something is missing. Daniel will help to clear that up now. Just cooperate, so it doesn’t hurt you so much.” She said. “Now, take off all your clothes and lie down on the bed.”

I did as I was told. I was terrified! She had a cane and threatened to flog me with it if I didn’t cooperate. When I lay down, she placed a gag over my mouth.

“This one is so that you don’t shout the whole house down and disturb the neighbors,” She said.

Daniel then took off his trousers and wore something that looked like a balloon over the tip of his penis. This was when my brain registered what was about to be done to me. The “something” Daniel was to help me with was my virginity. A virgin wouldn’t work in her business model; that needed to be gotten out the way. I tried to scream, but the gag prevented any sound from being heard. I tried to move, but they held my legs and hands in place. He forced his penis into me. Oh, it hurt! Every thrust hurt! It was like my insides were being torn open. It was pointless to scream, so I just shut my eyes, cried, and took the pain in silence. After what seemed like forever, he stopped. They took off the gag and left the room. A few minutes later, Mrs. Kodi re-entered the room.

“Ehh! Stand up from there o! This little thing, and you are behaving like someone that was maltreated.” She said. “Clean yourself up and go and make dinner.”

I did as instructed. I stood up, changed the sheets, had my bath, and went to make dinner. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that the incident was never to be spoken about.

The week after, I started working at the restaurant. I was new and young, so all the men wanted a taste. They referred to me as “fresh blood”. Mrs. Kodi, being the businesswoman she was, made sure I always looked very seductive and served the wealthiest customers. She charged higher for my “home service,” and they paid. I was made to sleep with countless men. They did disgusting things with my body, but I was instructed never to complain. As long as they paid, I was to do their bidding. Anytime I mistakenly got pregnant, Mrs. Kodi would take me to our abortion Doctor and have the baby removed. This was my reality for the next two years.

In the third month of my third year of working in the restaurant, I discovered I was pregnant again. I had two painful abortions before that, so I was scared to have another. I relayed my fear to Mrs. Kodi, but she dismissed it; she wasn’t going to have a pregnant girl spoil her business. She called the Doctor and scheduled an abortion for the next Saturday. This was when I knew I had to find a way to escape, else I might die. Obviously, she didn’t care about my well-being; I was just a means of income to her. I had to find the courage to run away.

On the day of the abortion, she gave me the Doctor’s fee (₦12,400) and sent me on my way. Instead of going to the Doctor’s, I entered a bus going to Aba and ran back to my mother.

It’s been almost a year since I ran away. I am currently pregnant with the baby I refused to abort. We might be living in abject poverty, but it’s better here than with Mrs. Kodi. We haven’t been able to get justice because we don’t have the funds for legal fees. I hope to do so sometime in the future.

This is the reality of many kids in society today. Many kids are mentally, morally, physically, and socially harmed through child labor and slavery. They are robbed of their childhood. Some are not lucky to escape, and they die in the hands of their so-called guardians. If you think slavery is dead, think again; It lives on.

Thanks for reading.