January 1st 2024.
I had a normal upbringing in Wales – my parents were together and both worked good jobs. But when I started high school, life took a turn. The transition from primary school was hard and I struggled with the workload and making friends. I rarely went and when I did, I left early. Instead, I hung around my estate – and that made me vulnerable.
My best friend at the time, Katie*, lived nearby and it didn’t take long for her stepdad to pick up that I was easy to take advantage of – that’s where the trafficking began. He told me, a girl of only 11, that if I delivered drugs for him, he would buy me cigarettes. I didn't think anything of it – it was an easy job taking drugs down my top from one end of the estate to the other, getting fags as payment.
Not long after, I was expelled from school for my behaviour and persistent absence, moving to a specialist college where I met my friend Andrea* and things got worse. Andrea and I spent more time together, and one day she took me to a park behind a kebab shop we visited. Some men she knew from the shop met us there. Andrea signalled for me to get in their car, and when I did, they took me away and raped me. I felt like I had been ripped apart. I was hurting all over and it felt like my body wasn’t my own. It was a disconnect – almost like adrenaline, until the pain trickled in and then got worse.
When I shared details of this traumatic event to Andrea, she dismissed me, saying it was ‘just sex’. I was in so much agony afterwards. When we walked home to her house, I dumped my bloodied clothes on the way. I later found out my friend had been groomed and exploited, and she was doing the same to me. Traumatised, I used alcohol and drugs to dull what had happened, but things only got worse.
It seemed like a group of men knew what had happened to me and made me do sexual favours for them all the time in return for something I needed or wanted. Soon, it was a regular thing. If I needed a taxi, drugs, a drink at the pub, or even a kebab, I had to do some kind of sexual favour – I was simply a target, ripe for exploitation.
My parents just believed me when I told them I was hanging out with friends. In fact, they were really glad I was being social after not being able to easily make friends. But when I was driven two hours from my hometown to Telford, aged just 16, to have sex with multiple men against my will, I wish I could say it was the first time. Unfortunately, environments like this had become the norm to me. In fact, I estimate that after being a victim of human trafficking, I was forced to have sex with at least 1,500 men over the course of five years.
On that day in Telford, myself and my friend Denise*, also 16, got out of the van and were led by her stepfather towards an abandoned flat. Everywhere I looked, there were men having sex with women and girls. Denise’s stepfather told us who to ‘start’ with. I complied and started having intercourse with several of the men. I overheard discussions between the men talking about how much they were charging for our use. Later that afternoon, one even threatened me with a knife. It felt like just another day in the life of a victim of modern slavery, but now – after fully coming to terms with what happened to me and having a family – I’ve made it my mission to raise awareness and campaign so that what happened to me will never happen to my daughter, or anyone else.
I had a normal upbringing in Wales – my parents were together and both worked good jobs. But when I started high school, life took a turn. The transition from primary school to high school was hard and I struggled with the workload and making friends. I rarely went and when I did, I left early. Instead, I hung around my estate – and that made me vulnerable.
My best friend at the time, Katie*, lived nearby and it didn’t take long for her stepdad to pick up that I was easy to take advantage of – that’s where the trafficking began. He told me, a girl of only 11, that if I delivered drugs for him, he would buy me cigarettes. I didn’t think anything of it – it was an easy job taking drugs down my top from one end of the estate to the other, getting fags as payment.
Not long after, I was expelled from school for my behaviour and persistent absence, moving to a specialist college where I met my friend Andrea* and things got worse. Andrea and I spent more time together, and one day she took me to a park behind a kebab shop we visited. Some men she knew from the shop met us there. Andrea signalled for me to get in their car, and when I did, they took me away and raped me, catching me quickly when I tried to escape.
I felt like I had been ripped apart. I was hurting all over and it felt like my body wasn’t my own. It was a disconnect – almost like adrenaline, until the pain trickled in and then got worse. Andrea and I walked home, and I dumped my bloodied clothes on the way. It seemed like a group of men knew what had happened to me and made me do sexual favours for them all the time in return for something I needed or wanted.
When I was 16, I was driven two hours from my hometown to Telford, to have sex with multiple men against my will. Unfortunately, environments like this had become the norm to me. I estimate that after being a victim of human trafficking, I was forced to have sex with at least 1,500 men over the course of five years. On that day in Telford, myself and my friend Denise*, also 16, got out of the van and were led by her stepfather towards an abandoned flat. Everywhere I looked, there were men having sex with women and girls. Denise’s stepfather told us who to ‘start’ with. I complied and started having intercourse with several of the men. I overheard discussions between the men talking about how much they were charging for our use. Later that afternoon, one even threatened me with a knife.
It felt like just another day in the life of a victim of modern slavery, but now – after fully coming to terms with what happened to me and having a family – I’ve made it my mission to raise awareness and campaign so that what happened to me will never happen to my daughter, or anyone else. My parents just believed me when I told them I was hanging out with friends. In fact, they were really glad I was being social after not being able to easily make friends.
Another time, someone threatened to petrol bomb my house. I don’t know why they did it – it was like they just enjoyed inflicting fear and pain. I reported this to the police too and the boy was arrested then made to pay a small fine.
My experience was traumatic, and it took a long time to come to terms with it. I used alcohol and drugs to dull the pain, but things only got worse. I was just a target, ripe for exploitation. It's taken a long time to get to where I am now, but I'm determined to use my experience to raise awareness and campaign so that what happened to me will never happen to anyone else.
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