Ntobeko



That was 2 hours ago, according to my watch. I long stopped crying when we were forced to enter the container by the guards who threatened to shoot us if we dared disobey, we all listened, and no one tried to act as a hero fearing that we would be left lifeless.

I found my place and settled in it, I didn’t want to talk to anyone, what use would it all do? I wondered what my mother was doing now, I would have called her and alerted her that I was abducted, held against my own will if only they hadn’t taken my phone.

The doors opened casting in a bright light of sunshine, I blinked a couple of times to help adjust to the level of brightness. Those who were sitting near the doors were roughly pulled out of the container.

I held on to my scarf a little bit tighter not wanting to lose it in this thick commotion that was happening. I jumped down from the container not wanting to be dragged out, not wanting those guys to lay their hands on me.

There were so many of us, that my breath hitched in my throat as more girls were pulled out of the containers, others looked older than us, making me gulp down the bile that was starting to rise, leaving a bitter taste at the back of my throat.

That guy with a scar across his face was the one scanning the crowd. I was buried deep in the crowd but I felt his eyes rest on me for a second too long, I felt a shiver run down my spine, even his stare was not gentle, he slowly shifted his eyes and continued to scan the crowd.

He nodded slightly, and the guards led us into the warehouse. The place was dark, except for the dim lights that were flickering. “Strip naked.” One of the guards shouted pacing around with his hand resting on his gun.

I swallowed thickly, looking around nervously. Music was playing not too far away. There were rooms built inside the warehouse, it even had an upstairs with steel stairs leading up.

I slowly removed my clothes, one piece at a time with shaky hands. My clothes were now laid next to my feet carefully. I felt exposed, disgusted and like a piece of material as the guy ordered us to stand in a line. We were all butt naked, his eyes laid on our bodies like a pervert that he was.

I wanted to shrink back on the walls of the warehouse and disappear into thin air. My body had never been seen by anyone else except by my mother, having another person look at me betrayed every sense there was of respect.

He nodded his head in approval as he looked at us, “Nice.” His voice was hoarse, thick with corruption. “Follow me.” He spoke, leaving no room for protesting.

He stood outside the opened door and waited for us to enter the room. The room was so quiet that I could hear the beating of my heart as it raced. My eyes failed to adjust to the darkness of the room which was illuminated by the red lights on the centred stage.

A voice cut through the quietness of the room “I want you girls to climb the stage, one by one, and show us what your momma gave you.”

I looked around to where the voice had vibrated from, but there was no one in the room except us. One girl who looked like she was 21 climbed the stage, wearing a pair of red high heels, shaking with fear, her face had traces of tears as she stood in the centre of the stage, her bottom lip quivering.

“Turn around.” It took her a minute for her to start turning around slowly. “Sold for R5000.” a voice came from the speaker mounted up high on the wall.

I swallowed thickly, fear washed over me, the other girls started murmuring under their breaths when the realisation hit us that we were going to be sold. I heard of girls getting sold but I never thought that I would be one of those people.

My knees buckled at the thought of being sold so that I could be stuffed with drugs or be a prostitute somewhere outside the country. I shifted back, suddenly conscious of my surroundings, I held my clothes closer to my chest, shifted back and let the others pass to the stage.

This was really happening, it was not a nightmare, no matter how much I pinched myself trying to convince myself that I was sleeping. The group got thinner and thinner until there were 3 of us left. My knees buckled when it was finally my turn, to walk up the stage.

I forced air to flow through my lungs, you can do this. I chanted to myself as I took a step forward, which was nothing but a small step, I slowly made it to the 3 steps leading to the stage. I placed my clothes in the box that was near the stairs and walked onto the stage.

The bright red lights were blinding as I stood at the centre of the stage, my hands grew clammy with sweat, I slowly turned around, and with each second that passed by my dignity went along with it.

“You are,” the person speaking on the speaker didn’t even finish what he wanted to say when the door opened, a different door than the one we walked into and that guy with a scar on his face stood on the opened door and looked at me, his eyes looked dangerous, cold and calculating.

“She’s not for sale.” His voice held authority, it was so loud that it bounced off the walls of the room making me want to cower.

The speaker crackled and a voice came through “Siza, the Mexican wants to top up the money for her.” The person argued. But the guy whose name I just learnt was Siza kept looking at me, his eyes never leaving mine even when he spoke “She’s not for sale.” This time he made sure to put more weight on his words.

His eyes burnt like hot coal as he continued to look at me, I shifted a little bit with awkwardness. It was not always that someone looked at my naked body for longer than 5 minutes.