What Happened in Dubai?
On Questions That Have No Answers
The first thing I noticed about Sarah was her love for service. She was God-fearing through and through and would not budge whenever it came to compromising her virtues. As her friend, she shared so many of her dreams with me. She really wanted to leave our little hometown to pursue her interest in robotics. Anything to help humanity do better. This was why when Mr. Ken called her one Thursday afternoon with the news that he’d finally found the perfect package for her, she was ecstatic. We both were. Little did we know that the perfect package was code for human trafficking and the so-called job he’d found for her in Dubai- that job which he claimed would help her save up for her tuition- was code for prostitution.
When my friend was brought back, I went to look at her. Her skin was navy-blue and appeared to have shrunk in the face of hot gold. Her toenails were chipped in more places than one and even with her eyes tightly shut, I could see the darkness in their sockets.
Sarah, my friend! My friend! Who did this to you? What is this I hear about you being stripped of your dignity, starved, beaten, locked up in a windowless room, raped by many men, degraded, sodomized, pissed on, defecated upon? What is this rumor flying around that you were made to take pills to make you hot and horny like a female dog? What is this nonsense people are saying about you serving people with depraved perversions for money? Eh, Sarah? Open your mouth and tell me what is going on. What happened in Dubai?
