I would like to share stories of two people today…

Person 1, age 20-25 years, occupation – Educator Associate

I was 5, one day I was in the hay field with my chacha (paternal uncle), like many other days. This day was a little bit different. My uncle started taking off his clothes and before I knew it, my uncle was naked and started to touch me in my private parts. I asked him why he was doing that, and he replied, whether I enjoyed it? I didn’t have any answer for him that day. Days went by…

One night my chachi (my uncle’s wife) went to visit her parents and my uncle asked me to share the bed with him. Middle of the night I felt my uncle taking his clothes off. Then I felt his hands going up and down my body. I jumped up and asked what he was doing. My uncle asked whether it felt good.

I was confused and terrified and in complete shock. I didn’t know what to do. I asked him whether this was right, and he replied, “of course! I am your uncle and I love you. But don’t tell anyone about this”.

My uncle slept with me that night and countless other nights. I became his and he became mine. I started to enjoy his presence.

Then I grew up and he wasn’t attracted to me anymore. So, I looked for others, who I would find pleasure from. I started going to the market place, where I hoped to find others to fulfil my physical needs and perhaps love. There were many men who I satisfied, and they found satisfaction in me.

I have a couple of male partners now, and I feel in peace with them. However, I do also have regular clients and my partners have theirs. We are okay with it.

  

Person 2, age 35-40 years, occupation – Sex Worker Educator

I was young (guessing 14-15 years old) when my parent married me off to a man much older than me. I was living a happy married life, but I knew the man I was married to, was a robber by trade and he often robbed people to make ends meet. He refused to look for other work.

One day we went to visit my parents. My parents had bought a new stereo, some furniture items. My brother had also just purchased a new watch, which was resting on the wardrobe shelf. In middle of the night my husband stole and left my parents home. Morning came, and everybody realised what had happened. So naturally the blame came my way. Apparently, I influenced my husband to steal everything. They emotionally tormented me and physically abused me. So, one quiet night I ran away and came back to my husband’s home.

Days turned to weeks and months, but there was no sign of my husband. I had no money and going hungry for days. I was forced to work as a housemaid to make ends meet. But hunger is cruel, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I then heard that my beloved husband re-married another and was living a happy life.

I lost all hope of ever reuniting with my husband and decided to move to Dhaka for work. In Dhaka I worked as maid in many houses and I was tortured physically and emotionally. I couldn’t survive for very long and was forced to return to my village once again.

At one point my husband returned to me and we lived together for a brief time, then he started beating me every day. I couldn’t take it anymore. I got in touch with a friend in Dhaka and she offered me some work, which would secure food, accommodation and a good salary. I packed my belongings and left for Dhaka once again. My friend gave me some strict instructions on how to get to the destination. I was to only take a rickshaw with a very young or very old driver and ask them to drop you in front of a particular mandir. Once I reached there, I was to call her.

I picked a young rickshaw driver and asked him to drop me at the location. He asked me what the purpose of my trip was and whether I was meeting a particular person. I told him I was meeting a friend. I called my friend once I got there. This was the beginning of a new chapter of my life. The type of work I did is frowned upon, but it put food on the table, three times a day. I reached a point in my life, where selling my body wasn’t a big deal. People would otherwise torture me, and I didn’t want to go through that again…

Self-reflection:

Only three hours, that’s all I spent at these two locations and the knowledge and realisation I have gained from it will stick with me for the rest of my life. It was so real and honest that my heart still aches from it and it will continue to ache for eons to come.

I was left with so many unanswered questions…..

How are these little innocent children being sexually molested and harassed without any consequences?! All of this happens behind closed doors and always shove under the carpet. And when it does come out, the victims are vilified and further taken advantage of.

These small children were forced to believe their sexual orientation. Do they really know who they are? Some of these children never even get the opportunity to understand sexuality. Some barely even know right from wrong.

Sexual orientation – a relationship between a male and female is true. Anything else is socially, culturally and religiously unacceptable and a great sin. They are forced to be married with someone of opposite sex and live a so called “normal” life. Then some, actually many, still continue their relationship with their partner. When do we see an end to this? When will we break free from these taboos and actually accept our differences so that we can all make our own choices?

When a person is bring rejected from every opportunity in life and neglected from all love and affection and forced to starve, is it wrong to sell your body to survive?

When body is what every man in your life is after and you are raped by every man you have ever loved or respected, would you have any respect for your body? And if body is what is making you money then this becomes a question of survival not self-respect nor dignity. Is this justifiable?