Poverty
I am currently doing a sociology subject on health, illness and society this semester, and a portion of this subject is dedicated to the effects of poverty. It is mostly theoretical and factual – but somewhere along the way, reading about it made my insides feel like it has been hollowed out. Poverty is a ridiculously powerful driving force. Name me something else, anything else on this earth that would empower a mother to give away her daughter, her baby girl, whom she had suffered for and paid the price of labour pains in order bring her into this world. And what for? In exchange for mere pennies. Peanuts. Money that will last for maybe a month. It will go, but she has already chosen to give up what is more entwined with her soul. So what is the next step? She would have to travel down the exact same path she sold her baby girl into. Prostitution is not just a viable solution, it appears to be the only feasible one – after all, what else does she have but her own body to give away?
That is desperation redefined, the burden of survival diminishing any remaining sense of humanity. Yet do they know any other choice? Poverty has become a lifestyle for them. How can I say for sure that I will not act the same way, should I be caught in that situation? In the midst of a total sense of hopelessness, how would I know? I have not even ever experienced anything close to that. I don’t think I really understand what it means to be truly desperate.
The label of poverty and the stigma of those who partake in human trafficking creates awareness, but does nothing to help. It provides knowledge, not solutions. Money can be churned and collected to help these individuals, but their lifestyle remains. So where is the line drawn between mere charity and the call against injustice?
