On Mumbai: Red Lights and Blue Chairs

I turned the corner and saw them. A row of brothels lined both sides of the narrow pathway in the middle of the slum. Each brothel, which also doubled as a home, had a woman outside in a chair. Sitting. Waiting for their next customer. Men walked the pathway, some entering homes. The other girls I was with said that this was unusual for the time of day that we were there. It was morning, and most customers/Johns don’t come until 3pm in the area.

We turned and walked up steps to a center for women and children, a place of peace as one brothel worker described it. Children ran to greet us, screaming “Teacher!”, hugging us, and putting flowers in our hair. Each one excited to see us. Each one eager for love and affection. Each one the child of a commercial sex worker. Some of the children are victims of sexual abuse. Some are tied to the bed for hours. Some are present while their mothers do their work. Some will be sold into prostitution, following in the footsteps of their mothers.

After an hour or so, the children left and the women came in. They came to escape from their jobs for a little, to feel a little bit of peace, to be prayed for. While the women are not Believers, they recognize the center as a safe place and as a good place. A place where maybe, just for a little, they can find relief from their daily lives.

I’m still trying to wrap my mind around what I saw in that slum area of Mumbai three weeks ago. The CSWs weren’t standing in windows or behind closed curtains. They were out in the open. Sitting in a chair. Wondering who the next person would be to take a little bit more of them, each time stealing a piece of their hope and dignity.

Pray for these women and the women and girls around the world who are involved in the commercial sex trade, whether by choice or force. Pray that they would see there is another way. Pray for rescue.

#India