A hand out of the horror

This tiny, humble woman is doing what most of us cannot even dream about. Ms. Anuradha Koirala is the Founder and Executive Director of Maiti Nepal. Born in Nepal and former English teacher, Ms. Koirala started Maiti Nepal in a small house in Kathmandu with her own savings. Today she is a widely recognized activist and lecturer who has dedicated her life to combating the sexual exploitation of women and children.

Her accomplishments have been recognized through numerous awards. Her work is often dangerous and requires great personal sacrifice. The criminal elements that "deliver" young girls are a ruthless enemy and have political connections at the highest levels in India and Nepal. Maiti Nepal's main office in Kathmandu has been destroyed twice and Maiti workers must travel with a bodyguard when overseeing rescue missions in India. In Nepal, girls as young as six are at risk for sex trafficking.

Her commitment has been an inspiration to her largely volunteer staff. Most of the workers are rescued girls and young women who are healthy enough to work. "They need little incentive from me," states Ms Koirala. "They are working to help their sisters and they know the horror of the victims." She adds, "Society rejects me and my girls, but they are the most important thing in my life."

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The kite who would fly

These are the children with lost childhoods. Childhoods spent in the squalor of brothels, lascivious men, and parasitic pimps. Never knowing the comfort and warmth of family life, nor the support and affection of fathers, they watch as their mothers are abused, cheated, and grow old embittered. They watch from the fringes of society because they are forever marginalised, branded 'bastards' or prostitute's child'. A mark they will carry on their identities and their hearts throughout their lifetimes.

We, who are fortunate to be born in more fortunate circumstances, may not be able to help them much in real terms, but we can change our attitudes towards them, hold them in our hearts in prayer,and send them warmth, healing and strength.

Last plea for help

This is one voice that will never speak again and for which there is no scope for empowerment simply because it is gone. But the others who are standing on the brink, poised to take their own lives, can most surely be empowered, can be turned back towards life. We condemn suicide as a cowardly act, an irresponsible step taken by someone who does not have the courage to cope with life, forgetting that our lack of empathy towards the phenomenon can fuel it even more. But more often than not, in our fast-paced, frenetic lives, we fail to notice that this person has been crying out for support in many ways, but which has been unacknowledged due to indifference, or ignored due to ignorance and an attempt at suicide is the heart’s last desperate plea for help. Yes, they are voiceless, because they speak in voices that we fail to hear, until they choose to silence that voice forever.

In the poem below, Roop Majumdar puts forward the point of view of someone who is about to take his or her own life.

I want to die because I can.

Because you said that you wanted me dead.

I want death because I understand

the maggots inside your head.

I'll be gifted the respect I seek

when I die so you can keep

my rights that you're dying to read

to me at my grave.

I will deny you the secret pleasure

of hating me if I live on.

People will bay for your blood

if you hate me after I'm gone.

I am as condemned as you are.

Since both of us will end up dying.

So I will take the plunge first.

You see, I've had enough of trying.

No, I will not haunt you.

You suffer just fine in denial.

My body is easy to get over.

It's my love that'll take a while.

Just a chore

~ photo-poem by Mo

A deeply moving, poignant poem about lives lost, dreams crushed underfoot and hope trampled to the ground. We have the confidence to hope, the audacity to dream and believe they will come true and faith in our tomorrows. We have support systems, people to comfort us in times of grief and distress. What do they have?