What is Slavery? Slavery is being held captive against your own will. You are no longer a human, but a mere piece of existence. You are now someone else's property and need permission to do everything.
Does Slavery still exist? Slavery still very much exist. I say that because it actually does. People all over the world are being held captive against their own will. They are being compinsated for little to none for their work.
Is slavery always bad? i believe that no matter what kind of slavery it is, it is always bad. I say that because you are being held against your ow will. That means you can not due what you want.
New York Times: Child Sex Slave Author: Aleema Numerad
My name is Aleema Numerad and I am from Marondera, Zimbabwe. I am currently 17 years old. About 12 years ago, I was enslaved by a man that goes by the name of Ishmael Muradi. I have been bounced around doing the work of a prostitute for about 9 of those 12 years. Doing this time that I have been here, I have been through much. I live in harsh living conditions, I have diseases and infections, and my body is being sold for high prices, while I have little to no money. In this letter, I will include how this all began and where it has all led up to.
Up until my seventh birthday, I had a wonderful life. I really did not want for much. I had both of my parents in my life and my family was very much close. My father, who worked on big buildings, was the provider for my family. My mother was a stay at home mother. I have several brothers and sisters. Today I do not know if they are all still alive, but I know that before I left, they were. Until I turned seven, there was a steady income for my family. Around that time, the economy began to become terrible due to the corrupt government. Not to long after that, my father lost his job. He told us not to worry, but that is exactly what everyone in y family did. He started to get little gigs wherever he could. That is until he came in contact with a man named Ishmael. Ishmael began to take advantage of my father after he realized how muck skill he had. Ishmael told my father that he was becoming indebt and he needed more payment. Since my father had no income, there was nothing my father could do about it. Ishmael knew that this was the case so he began to bargain with my father.
When my father came home, he took my mother into a room where we all heard her began to cry. When they both later came out, they had my belongings with them. I asked what was going on and my father took and sat me in his lap. He told me that if I loved my family that I would go with Ishmael only for a little while. Every seven year old who loves their family would do anything for them. Although I did not like Ishmael, I would do anything for my family. After my father talked to me, he took me over to Ishmaels house. I knew there was something not right about this man based on the way he greeted me. I could tell my father also knew the same. He greeted me with an all to ready smile and a touchy hug.
After my father left, I stayed with this ill manered man. I began to notice several men and young girls who came in and out the house all day. I suspected something, but not what it turned out to be. One day, Ishmael came into the house drunk and reaked ot alchohol. I was scared so I ran. But, no sooner than I hid, he found me. He then grabbed my purple dress and ripped it. I only remember that dress because it was the one my mother picked out for my 7th birthday. After he ripped my dress, he threw me across the room, where I hit my seven year old head. I started to bleed a little, but he didnt care. He came over and put me on his pissy bed. Afterwards, he got his big black body on top of me. I was nervous, but I did not fight back because of what he did to another girl. A young female by the name of Jenny came and refused him. When she refused, he raped her in front of her child and then snapped her neck. After he got on top of me, he sticked his thing into my not yet open area. After that, I blacked out. When I woke, I was bloody and broken.
Since that day, Ishmael had became my pimp. He had me working and doing things that I thought were impossible. I inhabited places where ther animals and rodents chewed at dead bodies. The smell would sometimes consume me and I would pass out. When I began to pass out, Ishmael would wake me up by peeing next to where I laid. When I, “acted up,” he would sometimes beat me and send me to is friends. After his punishments began, I started to get bounced around from one man to the next. When I returned back to him, he would later then handcuff me to his wall and watch me for hours. When this started to happen, I was so used to the abuse that I began to do every kind of drug that would numb me from the pain. I did not even care anymore.
When I turned 15, Ishmael started to take me to multiple cities and countries. One of those places Included a place called a America. In America, I encountered many people who was in the same line of work I was. There were people who I saw everyday dying from the, “package.” I really didn’t know what that was until I talked to an older female who did the same as I. I was at a hotel where I was to meet a man. While there, I saw a frail young lady. She same up to me and told me to watch and keep myself safe. I thought to myself, “ As if I could.” When I asked her what she meant, she told me about the fatal package. When I later left, I asked Ishmael about it ad he told me not to listen to the words of a foolish whore. When he said those words, I thought nothing else about it. After that trip, we began to make plenty more back to the country. Ishmael started to grow more clients. I began to think of other ways to get out of this business and away from him.
One day I was sitting there and was thinking, “Why me? What did I ever do?” I could not come up with an answer. I also began to think of the money that I was promised for my work. I asked Ishmael and I was answered with a hand to my face. After that day, I never asked him another question. Instead, I began plotting ways to get away from him. I did not understand why I waited so long to do that, but I was glad I did. On our last trip back to America, I ran into the lady that had told me about the package. Ishmael had planned to stay there for an entire week. I had worked the entire week and this was the last day. During the week, I had told the lady about what I had wanted to do. But, I did not know at that time that she had prepared a place for me. I told her that I wanted to get away from him. When it was time for me to go to my last, “John,” for the night, the entire hotel was raided.
Since that day, I have been living in America with a new family. I have not told them much about my experience, but I want to when the time is right. Every night, I think about my real family. When I get to thinking, I think about how much I was put through just to satisfy them. I used to want to see them and just hug them, but now I just want to ask, “Why me? Your only daughter. The one you are supposed to love. Why me?” I have not gotten around to doing that yet. In fact, I do not even want to go back that way. Instead, I am looking forward and trying to help others who went through the samething I did.