A good friend who works in the area of trafficking tells me that 80,000 children, women, and men are trafficked out of Mozambique every year. I found this number hard to believe. Afterall, that is a stadium of people every year that goes missing! That is the same number of people who filled the Penn State University’s football stadium when I attended college in the 1980s. Having just rescued three children from what clearly was indicated to be a trafficking situation, I began to do some research on the internet.
The following is taken from a 2023 “Trafficking in Persons Report: Mozambique” that was conducted by the US Department of State.
“As reported over the past five years, human traffickers exploit domestic and foreign victims in Mozambique, and traffickers exploit victims from Mozambique abroad. Forced child labor occurs in agriculture, mining, and market vending in rural areas, often with the complicity of family members. Traffickers lure voluntary migrants, especially women and girls from rural areas, from neighboring countries, such as Malawi, to cities in Mozambique, Eswatini, or South Africa with promises of employment or education, and then they exploit those victims in domestic servitude and sex trafficking. Some traditional healers target individuals with albinism, who may be vulnerable to both sex and labor trafficking. Traffickers exploit Mozambican girls in bars, roadside clubs, overnight stopping points, and restaurants along the southern transport corridor that links Maputo with Eswatini and South Africa. Traffickers in and around mining worksites in Cabo Delgado province exploit girls in sex trafficking. Increasingly, traffickers recruit women and girls via the internet with promises of employment using fake business profiles on social media, then subsequently exploit them in sex trafficking or forced labor. The government reported the pandemic increased vulnerability to trafficking, especially for children targeted through social media. Children from vulnerable families, particularly with parents who are elderly or have a disability, were vulnerable to trafficking. Children from Gaza province, who migrate to Maputo and work in informal street vending, may be vulnerable to trafficking. Child sex trafficking is prevalent in the cities of Maputo, Beira, Chimoio, Tete, and Nacala, which have highly mobile populations and large numbers of long-distance truck drivers.”
This report did not even include information related to people being trafficked for forcible organ removal. There are also countless numbers of children sold into slavery to serve other families like little Cinderellas. I have personally encountered this in my experiences here. Young boys are abducted and taken to the conflict regions in the north to serve as child soldiers. Young girls are taken and used in prostitution. In addition, there is a staggering number of young girls sold into child marriages each year. Families see child marriage as a means for economic survival.
Wikipedia states that there are an estimated 145,600 people living in slavery in Mozambique with COUNTLESS MORE (my emphasis added) being taken unwillingly into
South Africa.
But this year…there will be three less…
We have been through some trying and emotional times when fighting to get needy children placed in our homes. But this past experience beats them all! It was a month that was a rollercoaster of emotions. What I have learned is that we are not just rescuing children from a horrible past, we are rescuing them from an even more horrific future.
You may need to "read between the lines" a bit in this blog.
It was brought to our attention that three children who were recently orphaned were in need of care. Their mother and her sister lived in South Africa selling “tomatoes and onions”. The money they earned would be sent back to help their family in Mozambique. The three children were living in Mozambique in the family home within a small village called Mahubo. The younger sister of both older sisters in South Africa, along with her husband, lived in this house, caring for their three own small children, three children of the surviving aunt, and the three children of the late aunt. This couple could not have been a day older than in their late twenties and neither one works or has any possibility of even ever acquiring work. I look at people like this and have no comprehension how they survive in such impoverished conditions.
The youngest sister (the children’s aunt) visited our Sunshine Homes with her husband and asked us to take in the children. Because we had the family’s permission, this should have been an open and shut case. We organized for a caseworker from Social Action to come with us the next day to collect the children and bring them home. Delcio and I sprang into action, preparing three beds complete with sheets, a new towel, pajamas to sleep in the first night, and a stuffed animal resting on a fresh, new pillow waiting to greet them when they arrived.
The family home was an hour’s drive off the main road. We drove through the most desolate land I have yet to see in Mozambique.
Literally nothing grew…it was dry and brown everywhere I looked. There were no trees, bushes, or grass, and certainly not any small farming plots, called machambas, on which 90% of the population here grows food to survive. It was a windy day and the swirling clouds of thick, brown dust made it seem even more desolate than it already was.
We drove so far out that I felt like we were going to drive off the face of the earth. With some great navigation by Delcio, we arrived in Mahubo and parked our car. The uncle (by marriage) led us back the dirt paths to the family house. It was very similar to most houses in our area… a small two-room structure made of cement blocks with metal sheets for the roof. We brought a caseworker from Social Action with us. Her role was to record the information and write the documents necessary to place the children in our care.
Together, we talked with the youngest aunt and uncle, two sets of neighbors, and the local chefe, village leader. The caseworker recorded the information. We learned that each child had a different father. No one knew who any of them were or where any of them live. (Remember this for later.)
And then, we hit a disappointing snag. The children’s documents were in South Africa with the other surviving aunt. We could not bring the children without their documents. Arrangements were made for a motorist to bring the documents to Mozambique. The uncle was then to pass them onto the caseworker. We would have to wait until the next week to bring the children.
But nothing happened the next week. When we tried to call the uncle, he did not answer. We tried to call the case worker but she was not available either. Red flag #1. Then, all of a sudden, we got a call that a man from South Africa appeared on the scene claiming to be the father of the oldest girl. He was going to take them back with him to South Africa. Really? After nine years of being absent from your child's life, you now appear and show an interest in her after the mother has died? Red flag #2. We tried calling the sister of the late mother in South Africa to determine if she knew this man. She did not answer any calls. Red flag #3. We called the case worker to assist. She said that if the man was the father, then the children were best off with family. She did not even offer to investigate. When we asked if we could look into it, but she said there was nothing we could do. Red flag #4. The uncle had never brought the children’s documents to the caseworker. This meant that if they were placed in the hands of this “supposed father”, he could easily take the children out of the country to South Africa, never to be seen again.
At this point, we contacted a humanitarian from the Save the Children organization for advice and counsel. There were too many red flags. Our contact spoke to the uncle and the case worker. She was told a completely different story…that the aunties were going to care for the children. Red flag #5. The case worker told her that Sunshine would not get these children. She told us that without the support of the case worker, we could not even go to the police.
I was devastated. It is one thing to hear about the selling and trafficking of children. It is another thing to have looked three precious children in the face and now know that they are lost. I cannot even describe my emotions at this time. I kept hearing the song that is so often sung in our Christian churches as we cry out the the Lord, "Break my heart for what breaks Yours". I don't think we really know what we are asking. Are we really ready for this? Clearly, I was not ready for this.
I wrote the following in my journal, "I...we...lost three children today to a gigantic system known by the name of poverty. And not just lost to financial poverty, but to poverty as in facing a life of servitude. These three precious children will be used. I lie on my bed and cry for them as the sun sets on this terrible day in which they have been lost. I pray they will not be abused sexually, mentally, or physically. Lord, protect them."
I don’t think I have ever felt so low or hopeless. And when one is low and hopeless, the answer is found in looking to God. I began to pray and sought out the intercession of friends and family to pray. A faithful intercessor shared with me that she felt these children would be mine. My hope returned.
The next week on a Friday afternoon, we were able to connect with and meet the eldest uncle in the family. Being the oldest brother, he has the power and authority to make decisions for the family. He shared with us that he had made the decision to place the children with our foundation. As a young man, his dream was to be a teacher. He scored high on the public university entrance exams. This should have secured a spot for him. Students at public university who attend during the day do not pay any tuition. Yet, they often must pay a bribe to get a spot. This man did not have money to pay, and so he was denied his rightful place. He told us that he wanted his nieces and nephew to have the opportunity he never had. He knew we could provide this for them. He had already met with the local chefe to ask him to write the necessary document for them to be placed! He said he would have the children brought to his house and we could come pick them up on Sunday! Delcio and I were both stunned and elated!
Sunday came and we were to collect the children at 5:00 pm at the eldest uncle’s house. The sun was setting just as we arrived…only to discover that the children were not there. There is no public transport that operates in their area on Sundays, so they were still in far away Mahubo. Also, he did not have the signed declaration from the chefe. We knew it was going to be a long night ahead!
First stop…the chefe’s house to collect the declaration. This, thankfully, was a quick one. His wife had the document in hand and passed it on to the uncle.
Second stop…to locate the chefe who was playing soccer at a local field.
We found him, and he completed the documents on the hood of my car by the light of Delcio’s phone.
Third stop…Drive alllll the wayyyyy to village of Mahubo. The road and surroundings looked very different in the dark. But Delcio and the eldest uncle managed to get us there. I was so thankful that the moon was almost full. It was the only light we had as we navigated the dirt paths that led to the home of the children.
When we arrived, I learned that no one had yet told the family or children that they would be coming with us that very night! We sat in the dark as the eldest uncle met with his younger sister. He simply told her that she knew he had the authority in the family, that he only ever decided what was best for the family, that the children were going with us that night, and that she was to go get them ready. If I were her, I would have been mortified. But she simply stood up and did as she was told.
The children came out of the house and came to their uncle, each one greeting him with a hug. He said, “Let’s go”, and they followed behind him like little ducklings. There were no questions, no tears, no arguments. The resiliency and obedience of Mozambican children astounds me!
We made our way down the path and back to our car by the light of the moon. The uncle opened the door and the children moved to climb in. I stopped them and asked them to give their aunt and uncle a hug before leaving. They did as they were told. I hugged the aunt and told her that we would take good care of the children and that they were welcome to visit.
Fourth stop…one final declaration had to be completed and signed by the uncle giving his permission for the children to be placed with us. We did this on the shoulder of the road in the car. We sent it off to Papa Don who would print it and meet us at the Sunshine House.
As we continued on our way, I was greatly impacted by the composure of the children. They quietly sat next to me in the back seat. They didn’t know where we were going or what was ahead of them. They just knew to obey their uncle. They were even lulled to sleep next to me for the last half of our trip.
Fifth and final stop…Sunshine Home #8! By now it was quite late. The two little boys who live there were already tucked into bed. Papa Don was waiting there for us. We entered the home and introduced the children to their new house mother, Ester. We showed them to their new bedrooms. Seeing their beds elicited the first emotional response I had seen in them all night. There was a spark in their eyes, and they got very excited! They had never experienced what it was like to sleep on a bed between clean sheets and snuggle under a blanket. They had never had new pajamas before. Each child picked up their stuffed bear and hugged it to their chests.
They were pleased. Their uncle was pleased. Delcio and I were pleased. Papa Don was pleased. And Carlos and Pinto (who by now had tumbled out of bed) were beyond pleased to have a new brother join them! In no time, they were laughing, rough-housing, and playing with a toy car.
After the uncle signed his document, we left the family for their first night’s sleep together. We all went our separate ways. It was the first good night’s sleep I had had in weeks. When I woke up the next morning, if felt like Christmas Day! It was like Christmas Day for the children as well. We took them shopping for new clothing (they arrived with the clothes on their back and the shoes on their feet) and new school uniforms in anticipation of their first day at their new school. We also took them to select a toy of their choice at the local grocery store that has a full aisle to choose from.
I am so glad to know that these three children are in a safe situation where they will have the opportunity to achieve their fullest potential. Yet I am heartsore knowing that there are thousands of children who will never have this chance at an abundant life. What causes all this hardship the world over is poverty. When people are desperate, they do desperate things. We take care of those in need, but our major focus is creating opportunity for people to escape the grip of poverty where desperation exists. Our work in the communities with community cashew farms and village cashew shelling factories bring prosperity to those who had generations of hardship.
I now sit in complete gratitude for all that of the prayers that have been said on behalf of these three precious children. This experience has revealed a very ugly side of poverty to me. One that I wish did not exist. I thought that God had already "broken my heart for what breaks His". But I see now that He is only just beginning. This experience has also revealed to me a new light in our work here. It has always been clear to me that we were rescuing children from horrible situations. Yet I now realize that we are rescuing them from so much more. Our homes provide security, love, hope, and opportunity to children who most likely would have been sold, indentured, or forced into prostitution or slavery. We have rescued them not only from a terrible past but from a future of suffering that, praise God, they will never know.
And now, when my friend tells others that 80,000 people are trafficked out of Mozambique each year, I will be able to correct her and tell her that this year…there will be three less.
