It is our delight to introduce to you this new section in Misyon – Our Hideaway. A venue for the youth to express themselves and to share with our readers their mind, their heart and their soul. We are inviting you – students and young professionals – to drop by Our Hideaway and let us know how you are doing.

Joy

By Cathyne Alla Costales

Joy was a rape victim. I met her when I was in college. I was on my senior year of college then and she was a freshman. I first met her at the Negros Women’s Center where I was having my research for an article for our school paper. I was sitting on a couch in the lobby, too preoccupied with reading the materials I had gathered that I hardly noticed Joy sitting beside me. I gave her a smile seeing her in our school uniform, which I was not wearing at that time. Thinking that Joy was a cousin or daughter of one of the staff of Negros Women’s Center, I didn’t mind at all when she tried to take a peek at my materials. Before I knew it, Joy began telling me her story, and I found myself listening. There was a trace of innocence in every word that came out of Joy’s mouth – but it was coupled with distress. Her words were filled with horrors and nightmare of a young woman trapped and abused.

Escape into ‘prison’

At the age of sixteen, newly graduated from high school then, Joy was recruited to be an entertainer in Japan. “We are poor,” she said, and so she grabbed the opportunity to be a japayuki to alleviate their poverty. Joy sailed off to Manila together with her recruiter. She was brought to a house where she was made to believe that she would be trained. The ‘training center’ turned out to be a casa – a house where women were sold to hungry boars of human flesh.

My Reaction

I was stunned. I wasn’t able to say a word to Joy after hearing her story. I went back to school for my next class, struggling so hard to let it all sink in. My palms were sweating, and my knees were shaking. I just wanted to sit down. After my last class I went home and I found myself watching rape stories on television and reading articles regarding rape and sex slavery.

I couldn’t bear the thought of being sold as a sex slave. I couldn’t imagine the struggle of young women inside the casa. I couldn’t believe that their future was being torn to pieces just because they wanted to get away from poverty.

My secret investigation

I began to follow Joy’s case. I called her up at the number she gave me. On my first call a woman answered and told me Joy was not home yet and on my second call a man answered and told me that there was nobody named Joy in the household. I thought it was a simple way of telling me NOT to call again. I mentioned this to Joy the next time we met and she just dismissed me on this and changed the topic. She said I might just have dialed a wrong number and just try it again next time.

Psychological problem

My next stop was the College Guidance Office where all the records of the entrance examinations and interview results of the entire studentry were piled up. All the while I thought I was the only one in school who knew about Joy’s story. But to my surprise, the guidance counselor knew about Joy’s case too and she told me that Joy was going through something very serious. She recommended psychiatric treatment for her because she was barely able to manage the trauma of what she had been through in the casa. The Guidance Office tried to contact Joy’s family to talk about her problem. Her brother came and they told him about Joy’s need to see a psychiatrist but there was no more response from them after that. According to the guidance counselor, it seemed that Joy’s family wouldn’t agree with the idea that Joy needed a psychiatrist.

The guidance counselor told me that Joy sought help from the school administrators when the semester started. She told her story and she had asked for a lawyer because she wanted to sue the recruiter who brought her to Manila. Joy had first sought help from the Negros Women’s Center and they promised her free legal assistance but nothing really happened.

Hopeless case

I was hopeless. I felt so bad because I couldn’t do something for Joy. She had told me that I was the only friend she had in the campus. After that first meeting with her at the Negros Women’s Center, we had been seeing each other almost everyday in school. She dropped by the school organ office once in a while and brought me some cookies. Sometimes we would eat lunch together. But before the semester ended there was not trace of Joy in the campus.

Gone with the wind

If Joy had the medical attention she needed, if the school administrators had lent an ear to hear her story, if her family had worked hand in hand with the college guidance office, if the guidance counselor did her best to contact the family again, if the Negros Women’s Center staff were concerned enough to provide that free legal assistance they promised Joy, if all these had happened, the case against that illegal recruiter who brought her to Manila could have been filed. Then, everything could have been less traumatic for Joy.

I am now working as an office assistant to the mayor in one of the towns here in the province of Negros Occidental. As I go along with my daily tasks in the office, there are so many ‘Joys’ that come my way, crying for justice. I get to refer them to our Department of Social Welfare and Development office, to our free legal officer, facilitate their financial or medical assistance and follow them up. I am thankful I met Joy because I am now able to understand more deeply the struggle of these victims. In some little ways, I am able to do something for them.

The author writes from Bacolod City. She changed the name of her friend in order to preserve her privacy.