“I looked out of that second story bathroom window everyday, and kept thinking how high up it was. I was too afraid to jump, as I surely would die if i hit the concrete below. But one day, I decided I wasn’t going to die in that brothel. It wasn’t my place, nor was it my time. So I said a prayer, thanked God for my life, and I jumped.”
This past August, I attended the University Scholars Leadership symposium. During my 26 hours of travelling to Vietnam, I contemplated what to expect. What would I learn? What would I experience? Who would I meet? Well, I met one extraordinary person in particular, a speaker at the conference. Her story was so compelling that I called her a few days ago, and she provided me with every heart-wrenching, yet inspiring detail. This story isn’t graciously protected by American censorship, but it is the truth. This is what is happening in America, along with the rest of the world, and nobody realizes it. This is the story of Shanandra Wororuntu. The story of a former sex slave.
It was 1998, and Shanandra was 24 years old. She lost her job in Indonesia as a result of widespread religious persecution. Since she had a child to care for, she needed to work. She connected with an employment agency, and was sent to America to get a job. Excited to take this opportunity, Shanandra eagerly made the long trip around the world. Upon her arrival, however, she was picked up by a man with a badge and was held at gunpoint. “Don’t talk, or I will kill you.” he said. She was set up.
The last glimpse of the outside world she saw were the streets of New York City. Yes, you read that correctly. She was sold into sex slavery in the beautiful city we all know and love. From that moment on, for years to come, Shanandra would endure horrors most of us can never imagine.
Living in the pitch black misery of a brothel, she was rarely fed, she was beaten 24/7, and she hardly had time to sleep. If she slept, her owner might beat her more for missing a “customer”. She had a quota of “customers” to satisfy, which was at least 10 a day. Every single day she had to meet this quota, and she had to let these men constantly beat her. She suffered black eyes, cuts, and bruises. She had to get herself drunk in order to tolerate the pain she suffered from her “customers”.
While in the brothel, Shanandra celebrated her 25th birthday. With her was a young 15 year old girl. They celebrated together. No cake, no party, no friends singing “Happy Birthday”. Just darkness and constant sexual assault. She told me that on her birthday, she was thankful to be alive. This comes as an astonishment to me. Regardless of the living hell she was in, Shanandra was happy just to be here in this world.
As time went on, Shanandra was moved from brothel to brothel. She didn’t speak English at the time, so she could never figure out where she was going. She only knew that she being kept near New York City. Likewise, she had very little judgement of how long she had been a sex slave. As the days went by, she would occasionally look out of the bathroom window in her brothel. Day after day, she considered jumping. Finally, she decided to take her chances and make the leg-breaking jump. Shanandra described the fall as a freak event, having no explanation as to how she wasn’t injured. Seconds after she landed, her 15 year old friend jumped as well… and landed right on top of her. That part actually hurt. Before they ran away from the brothel, Shanandra looked up to the window and shouted “I’ll be back for you.” She hoped she wasn’t lying.
The two ran for their lives. They didn’t know what to do, except for one thing. When Shanandra first became a sex slave, another slave gave her a phone number, and told her to call it whenever she paid off her debt to the human traffickers. The other slave claimed that the man with the phone would provide her with a job. Knowing this, the two girls went to a hotel and called the number. The man picked them up, and they thought they were saved. However, the man ended up selling them back into sex slavery. Shanandra had now been set up for the second time.
Eventually, she was able to run away from her captors. She was free for good. How long had she been a slave? Well, almost as soon as she got out, planes crashed into the twin towers. That’s right, Shanandra was a sex slave for three years.
Her troubles didn’t end here. She went to a police officer for help, but he laughed in her face out of disbelief of her story. She went to the Indonesian consulate, and they didn’t believe her either. Finally, after months of sleeping on the subway and not having anywhere to go, Shanandra met a man who was in the US Navy, and he took her to the FBI. Finally, after four years of hell, Shanandra’s situation was looking good.
Soon after connecting with the FBI, Shanandra helped them bust multiple brothels, and she kept her promise by rescuing her fellow sex slaves.
That was her past. Now, Shanandra is running her own non-profit organization, and she is also on the first US Advisory Council for human trafficking, working directly under Obama’s administration.
During our phone call, I asked her how she can be so happy after all she went through. So many of us are unhappy in our spoiled, first-world lives, and yet here she is with unending positivity. How does she do it? She told me this: “I’m free. I can do what I want. Nobody is making me do something I don’t want to do. I forgave the people who did this to me. I can’t forget about what happened to me, but I’m the only person who can make me happy. So I will.”
Human trafficking is not a foreign concept that Americans can just ignore. It’s happening in every state, and very well might be happening down the road from your house. It’s a 32 billion dollar industry, and a large portion of that comes from America. Millions of people are going through the same thing Shanandra went through. Men, Women, and young boys and girls. I wrote this article to help people imagine what it’s like to be a victim of human trafficking. If you feel compelled to help prevent this crime, then you should. Whether it be through writing, education, or starting an organization, anything is better than nothing. Nobody deserves a life in slavery.
