So this is where my work for Catholic Relief Services had led me: to a brothel. I was in the middle of a red light district in the go-go city of Mumbai on India's west coast. The social worker we were with strolled casually into a shed-like doorway and starting chatting with one of the women. I stood tensely, aware that in the metal cubby right behind me a young woman in a spangled sari was sleeping soundly.
It was midday and there was no "activity" going on. But the tiny, sardine-tin brothel — its walls painted an incongruous robin's egg blue — was appalling enough. Each woman slept and worked in a metal room that was perhaps eight feet by six feet, far smaller than walk-in closets I've seen in America. A footlocker was on a shelf above the narrow plank-like bed. Sometimes, my guide told me, the women's children were kept under the bed at night — occasionally drugged so as not to make noise that would disturb clients.
When the social worker — a Catholic Relief Services partner — walks through this neighborhood, she's focused on how to get the women's kids in school. She'd seen it all. I hadn't. It was unnerving to think how many women were in the brothels that honeycombed these alleys.
Worst of all was thinking how many were there against their will. My guides and I walked out of the brothel quietly — it seemed easy enough. A few children and older women on the side street stared at us. We kept on for a few blocks until we reached our car.
Hundreds of young women can't walk away. "There are henchmen hanging around to catch any prostitute who tries to escape," says Priti Patkar matter-of-factly. For twenty-five years, Priti and her husband have worked to save the thousands of teenage girls who are brought to the red-light district under duress, often tricked by acquaintances or even family members. The girls are held for years, working as unpaid prostitutes to make money for owners who buy and sell them. The Patkars head up Prerana — "Inspiration" — a CRS partner that helps girls who are rescued.