"Razia" spends time with a customer. She was married at 11, trafficked to brothel at 12.
‘I never knew how old my husband was, but I always guessed that he was in his 30s or 40s. He’d been married twice before, but his wives hadn’t been able to have children, so he’d left them.
When I got pregnant, he was so happy, he bought me a pale plastic doll to celebrate – even though I didn’t understand what was happening. My stomach grew and moved of its own accord, so I thought I probably had worms. I was really much more bothered about the doll.
I called her ‘Sada’, which means ‘white’. My husband said he was tired of seeing me dirty my clothes from playing in the mud all the time, and he hoped that maybe this toy would keep me clean.
I was 11-years-old. When I gave birth, I couldn’t breastfeed – my chest was still flat like a boy’s.
I’ve been in the brothel for seven years now. My husband died six months after I gave birth, and his family wouldn’t let me stay in the house. I was planning to go to Dhaka to find work as a maid, when a woman stopped me at the train station and asked me why I was crying. She offered to help me, but then she sold me to a pimp, who beat me so I couldn’t run away. After a while, I stopped trying.
If I could do anything, I would travel the whole of Bangladesh on my own. But only a very brave woman would be able to do that, and I’m not brave at all. I’m the most scared person in the world. I’m afraid whenever I leave my room.’