I used to think that anything relating to feminism meant anger, shaved heads; hatred of men and just overall moodiness. When I did my A-Levels, I chose Sociology on a whim. I didn’t expect the revelation I would receive; I was taken aback at my own anger at what the world has done to its other half; how sickening humans can be to one another. I started out young in mindset: angry at everything–I did end up turning away from men completely; everything was ‘sexist’ I used ‘misogyny’ with flippancy without really understanding what the word meant. I was met with rolling eyes and sighs every time I began to speak, because people knew a rant was coming on. I suppose I look at those days and say ‘I was naive.’
Ultimately, those debates I had back then was all about me. About how I felt about women; what I think men should do; it was all about my quickness to pick apart other people’s points and make men in particular look silly. I was forgetting about the true terrors that wait for women everyday in every place: from the street harassment suffered by a woman who’s been blessed with a nice figure; to the slutshaming of a rape victim; female genital mutilation and child brides. The problems women face in my own country are bad: modern day slavery, prostitution and daily abuse. It was my friend (now boyfriend) who said “stop talking about all this and do something. We’re all good at talking, aren’t we?”
So I started some projects. I began looking at other projects out there and how to get involved. A friend sent a link to my Facebook about a charity called Hope for Justice. I watched their promo video about five times that night.
I found out that children as young as 3 are trafficked into the UK for sexual exploitation; that Hope for Justice has rescued girls as young as four months old. I saw that women are trafficked by men who manipulate the kindness of their hearts and their want for companionship and love, then smuggle them into foreign countries and reveal the true nature of their ‘relationship’, that is of a slave and master; an abuser. I regularly check into the Hope for Justice website and I’m always uplifted to see the good work they’re doing: they practically save people from these horrors, but sadly not as many people as I thought know about them.
The RED INK project isn’t about me: it’s about collective work and global participation. All these women who are currently sending in their stories by the handful are helping the silent victims who aren’t yet ready to speak about the multitude of issues and experiences that they’ve lived through; the future purchasers of the book will be monetarily donating to a great charity that goes out and advocates for trafficked victims.
If you would like to know more about Hope for Justice, check out the banner below. I’m sure they’ll be glad for your help.