Today’s date
seems strangely fitting... It is
November 11th, a day we reflect upon our freedom and the cost of
such freedom... and here we are, gathered in the living area of Jantsen’s House
with a handful of the older girls at the Village Of Life. Girls who have been rescued from the
unspeakable... but we must speak it.
Perhaps it is not speaking it that gives darkness permission to remain.
(Note: Names
withheld to protect the identity of these trafficked children)
Our hopes
were to continue the connection we had already begun earlier today when we sat
on the steps of Jantsen’s House and sang and laughed together. A few of the girls brought out the clothing
they had made in their sewing skills classes, and I must say they are much
better than I am. Tiny shirt after tiny
shirt sewn by hand, with collars, pleats and buttons, even zippers – great
skills to grow their future upon. One of
the girls had learned to braid hair, so she showed us her skills using Debra as
an example. Watching her fingers
confidently and swiftly braid thin strands of hair was nothing short of
amazing. Debra loved having her hair
done, I’m sure it was very relaxing.
The girls
were interested in learning how to use the camera, which was entertaining to
teach, given the slight language barrier.
All the girls speak English in varying degrees of ease, their voices
rich and warm. I handed my camera to one
of them, as she wanted to take a photo of Tia and I. The first obstacle was to remember to take
the lens cap off – that helps! Then, to
teach her how to use the viewfinder, as she was waiting for something to appear
on the screen at the back of the camera.
Once that was done, we instructed her to press the shutter release
whenever she saw what she wanted to take a photo of, but she kept giving us
this baffled look, which in turn confused us as well... why wasn’t she taking a
photo?
Joshua, who
had been standing nearby to coach her a little, realized that he had turned the
camera off. Oops – somehow, that
explains it all!
Once the
camera was turned back on, she was able to take a handful of photos... she took some of us, and then some of doors,
the room, the walls, everything and anything!
It was good to see her having fun!
We took a
small break for lunch at Bryan’s House, the boys’ residence, where our team
gathered for meals each day. At
mealtime, we had been taking turns saying grace, but Joshua hadn’t yet taken a
turn, so we encouraged him to pray on our behalf. It’s something he had done at home on
occasion, where he felt more at ease, but he hadn’t done publicly outside of
our home. He felt he wasn’t “good” at
saying grace, so we explained that it was simply an expression of gratitude, a
conversation with God about our gratitude to Him. He accepted to try, and hearing his heartfelt
words was such a sweet gift – I could already see how much Africa had grown his
heart and his perspective. As a mom, I
can not control his heart, his mind, his decisions, his perspective – nor do I
want to. All I can do is simply teach by
being a living example and provide opportunities and experiences for him to use
to widen his perspective. I quietly
prayed my gratitude to God for that moment, and all that He had provided for us
through this journey, including this precious moment.
When we
finished our meal, we returned to the ladies’ residence with Joshua in tow, and
as we sat around in a semi circle, Tia announced that she had a “game” for us
to play. We would each take turns
sitting in the empty chair, and as we sat in the chair, we would share a story
from our life.
Tia went
first and shared how she and Stephen met, how they spent their times together
when he flew to Michigan, and how their relationship was strengthening.
Then, one of
the girls sat, and she chose to talk about life “on the islands” (of Lake
Volta), and what it was like to be in captivity. She shared her typical day on the islands –
the endless work, the impossible conditions, the abuse, and the effect it had
on her. She then shared about the day
she was rescued and was brought to the Village of Life, and how it transformed
her life.
Encouraged
by her testimony, Debra also shared about her childhood and her past, and how
it grew in her a passion to help people facing similar situations.
Meanwhile,
Joshua was quietly listening as I watched his reaction to be sure that he was
taking all of this information well, as it may have been difficult for him to
hear such things for the first time, but he was attentive and respectful and
seemed to be doing well.
We
proceeded.
Another girl
came, and offered her own story of life on the islands. Similar situations, different details. Heartbreaking. Year after year of slavery had taken a toll
on this young woman, but here she was in our midst, strong, courageous,
healing... and free.
We gave
Joshua a turn to break up the heaviness of what we had shared. We talked about his dreams, his aspirations
in life, his friends, embarrassing moments, and anything else that came to
mind.
When he was
done speaking, I gave Joshua the opportunity to be excused and play with the
other children outside if he wished to take a break from the talking, but he
expressed his wish to stay and take part in what we were doing.
After
Joshua, another girl stepped forward and shared more in depth detail of her
days as a child slave. Like the other
girls, she had been brought to the islands as a domestic servant, but had also
been involved in the fishing itself. She
spoke of the frustration of being given tasks she did not know how to do, or
being made to re-do a task over for no reason.
The slave masters’ family acerbated the problems by undoing her work so that
she would be punished and beaten for not having complied to the master’s
demands.
My turn was
last, and given what they had shared, I felt led to share with them the abuse I
had faced as a child. It was a situation
that Joshua had not yet been told, but I always knew that when the time came to
share it with him, I would have peace about it.
It was time.
In having
shared, it is my hope that these women can see that they are not alone, and
that in many ways, God used my past to lead me to Ghana and make a difference
in the lives of children that I understand their pain more than I should.
Perhaps, at
the same time, Joshua can gain an appreciation for what God used to shape me
into who I am today.
It was hard to sit across from these beautiful, humble,
gracious young women and hear of the way they had been treated – starved,
beaten, and enslaved.
Perhaps the most difficult part is the responsibility that comes with having heard their stories. In having heard these young women speak, I must now carry their voices back home with me and share what they have been through, and should I not be able to properly convey the severity and horror of what they endured, I will feel as though I have failed them.
For anyone who has ever doubted the severity of what happens
to these children and the reality of slavery – come... come to the Village of
Life. Meet these precious children, feel
their scars, watch the pain as they speak the unspeakable, witness the joy in
their freedom and redemption.
If that’s not enough to convey the reality and the
horror... walk with us as we share
tomorrow’s account of our time with the child slaves on the islands of Lake
Volta. Post to follow shortly.
