Featured Story

Surviving the Pains, Reaping the Gains

by Cecilia Flores-Oebanda

I first met Jane at our center in Manila in June, 2007. Just one look at her and I knew right away that the sixteen-year-old had had her share of pain. She was shy, aloof, and quiet—afraid to make a wrong move that would solicit rejection and hurt from others.

True enough, after some time, Jane disclosed to our social workers that her childhood years were marred by poverty, threat, and pain. Abused and abandoned by her family, she sought a better life and fell victim to the lures of a trafficker who promised a domestic job in Manila. Only later did she discover that her employers were not at all different from her kin. Jane was overworked and unpaid, battered and cursed, sexually harassed and shattered.

Jane's story is nothing new to me. In my sixteen years as president and executive director of Visayan Forum, I've met thousands of young women and children like Jane who, at certain points in their lives, were abused and forcibly trafficked. Yet these stories—no matter how many times I hear them—never fail to touch my heart and to inspire me to continue the fight that I started nearly three decades ago. These young victims of trafficking remind me of my own childhood and the strength and bravery it instilled in me.

Years of Struggle

As a child, poverty deprived me of many things. I grew up in a semi-urban, semi-rural area in the western part of the Philippines. As the second child and eldest girl of twelve children, I began working at the age of five. Rest and play were a luxury I could not afford—while other girls my age played with their dolls, I had only a basket of fish to carry and sell everyday.

Still, I managed. I entered college and became an activist in protest of the strict government of the martial law era. This was a risky choice—if you protested against the government, you would be labeled a "subversive," or a "communist," and you would be arrested. In 1977, things became too dangerous. I quit school, packed my things, and headed to the mountains. I became absorbed into the liberation movement and met a man, whom I married. Our first child was born in the cold of those mountains.

I was known as the "Commander Liway," one of the three women leaders of the underground movement in the far south of the Negros region. But I also had the soft heart of a mother. And just like any mother who only wants the best for her child, I was forced to leave my son, Eric, in the care of relatives to protect him from the dangerous life that I had found myself in. While I was in frequent clashes between the military and the rebels, there was never a day that I failed to think of my first-born.

I was heavy with my second child when my husband and I were captured—I gave birth to my second child, Kip, while detained. For three years, I appealed for freedom—but it wasn't until 1986 that the Edsa revolt ended the dictatorship and facilitated our release. By then, I had had two more children, both born in detention.

The birth of Visayan Forum

Life was certainly calmer after my release, but my experiences left me reeling. I knew I had to return to a life of public service. I founded the Visayan Forum (VF) in 1991 when I became aware of the human rights violations that continued in the Philippines, despite the freedom we believed we had found. The violations against child-domestic workers—the 'invisible workers' who are trafficked and often opt to suffer in silence—were of special interest because of my childhood years.

I could not ignore the call to give these individuals the voice and the strength to fight the ills and the odds. And so, in 1995, Visayan Forum opened its doors to survivors of trafficking.

The anti-trafficking program

In the Philippines, human trafficking is not a simple problem of illegal recruitment—traffickers operate in a very intricate underground network and often have strong connections with corrupt public officials and transport operators. Motivated by easy profits and the demand for laborers, traffickers exploit the vulnerable.

Anti-slavery award

Although trafficking is largely an underground operation, during the transit of victims, traffickers become highly visible. This visibility often makes room for hope. Here at Visayan Forum, with aid from the Philippine Ports Authority (PPA), we work to apprehend traffickers at seaports throughout the country.

Today, many of these ports have slowly transformed from breeding grounds for human traffickers where corruption and bribery allowed them to coerce, deceive and exploit their victims, to a place where help and hope is available.

We now operate in six regional offices in fourteen projects areas, with eight specialized centers. We provide halfway houses that give survivors a secure atmosphere. These houses have become the nerve centers for information and advocacy inside the ports and beyond.

We work in many capacities to limit the effectiveness of traffickers. We distribute flyers and contact cards to passengers and travelers to promote our 24-hour anti-trafficking hotlines so unidentified victims will have access to assistance. We mobilize a taskforce composed of coast guards, maritime police, private companies, and law enforcement. Even shipping companies help in the process of identification of possible victims onboard their vessels and at their ticket counters. We educate these groups on issues in human trafficking, so they can identify and support victims. Our partners are not just beneficiaries of our capacity building activities but are co-implementers of our strategy.

Recently, our work in the seas is expanding into the skies. The Manila International Airport Authority (MIAA) just recently entered into a contract with Visayan Forum to replicate in the airports the halfway house project we have at the seaports—an integral partnership to dramatically reduce instances of trafficking and exploitation.

Still, there are challenges that accompany implementing a program against these traffickers. Given the complexity of this issue and the huge profit that may be gained from it, we are no longer surprised by the numerous threats and criticisms we receive almost everyday from people and groups who try unsuccessfully to dissuade us from pursuing our cause. It's like being up in the mountains again, always on the lookout and ready for assault. During my days in the mountains, I carried a gun wherever I went—now I am armed with genuine commitment and undaunted bravery to fight for what I believe.

Honing heroes and survivors

Of course, interrupting trafficking activity is not enough. We are committed to empowering the victims to facilitate healing and recovery. To date, Visayan Forum has provided care to 18,590 people who were rescued from the hands of traffickers and helped 137 victims file legal cases against their abusers.

Cecil with Mary Robinson, former UN High
Commissioner on Human Rights

We want all victims to be able to assert their rights, and eventually emerge as survivors. We train and provide the knowledge and skills they need to recover and reintegrate back to society. More often than not, these survivors are moved to pass this learning on to other women and children. It becomes their personal advocacy. Thus, we have begun to develop what we call "the newfound heroes and survivors of our time."

I think of Jane, who came to Visayan Forum a shy and broken girl and left an advocate for survivors' rights everywhere.

"Kung anuman ang naranasan ko, gusto kong may matutunan din ang ibang batang kasambahay," she says, proudly. In English—"I want other child domestic workers to learn from my experience."

I think of seventeen-year-old Maria, and three other Filipina girls who, despite their traumatic experience as forced prostitutes in Ivory Coast, West Africa, have mustered enough courage to file charges against their traffickers, courage that led to the first successful conviction of international human trafficking involving Filipinos in Africa.

I think of Lika, a seventeen-year-old girl trafficked for prostitution in Manila, who was stripped of her dignity and became pregnant by one of her customers. Lika, who despite her pain, went on to raise the baby as a single mother.

"Ayokong umasa na lang sa magulang ko habang buhay. Gusto kong makabangon at maging responsableng ina sa anak ko," she says—"I don't want to depend on my parents' support. I want to move on and be a responsible mom to my child."

And I think of KC and Anne, both minors and victims of human trafficking. Forced to work in a brothel in Manila, they were forced to insert cotton swabs dipped in pigeon's blood into their vaginas so their customers would think they were still virgins—a process they call the "fake a virgin" practice, designed to ensure that brothel owners can charge higher fees for their services. Once rescued, the young girls took legal action against their perpetrators.

There are thousands of stories just like these that illustrate the bravery of survivors, but also the complexity of the problem of trafficking and the urgency to address it.

I think of my childhood, of my years in the mountain, and then I think of the women and children who are living the realities of trafficking daily. In the midst of the odds and risks that go along with this work, I remain always committed and ready to wage this war against human trafficking.