-From Vancouver Activist
Evelyn Zaccheus, a 36-year-old Liberian woman, was trafficked to Oman in November 2021, where she was forced to work as a maid in a large Muscat residence. During her harrowing ordeal, she recorded a voice note describing her situation, whispering in fear from within her trafficker’s home. This message was sent to Ward Reddick, a Vancouver resident who had become her lifeline through their WhatsApp exchanges.
For nearly a year, Zaccheus endured domestic servitude, working approximately 20-hour days in a house with six men, cleaning nine bedrooms and eight bathrooms. She communicated with Reddick about her grim reality: her employers kept her confined, denied her medical treatment for swollen feet and back pain, and subjected her to constant fear, including sexual harassment from the men in the house.
Zaccheus’s plight highlights the broader issue of human trafficking, which affects millions globally. The United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC) has noted that factors such as conflict, climate-related disasters, and economic inequality are driving more individuals into the hands of traffickers. Furthermore, the International Organization for Migration reported that 2023 was the deadliest year on record for migrants.
Reddick, an activist who has assisted over 200 women from sub-Saharan Africa escape trafficking in Oman, Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Dubai, and India, became involved in this cause almost by accident. After returning to British Columbia in 2015, he was compelled to help a friend of a former employee who had been trafficked. His efforts initially began as a one-man operation from his living room, aided by his wife, Lydia, for translation.
In July 2022, Reddick formalized his efforts by joining Rain Collective, an NGO dedicated to repatriating trafficked women. He learned to navigate the complexities of trafficking by communicating with victims through voice notes and texts, helping them apply pressure on their recruiters to terminate contracts or file complaints with labor ministries.
Zaccheus and Reddick exchanged over 700 voice messages over 167 days. When she finally escaped in April 2023, it marked a significant success in Reddick’s ongoing mission. He described the moment of hearing a woman declare her freedom as “magical,” a testament to the resilience of those he helps.
Reflecting on the horrific realities of trafficking, Reddick stated, “I just discovered this most horrific world and set of circumstances that I’d ever run into personally.” As he continues to manage around a dozen cases weekly, he remains committed to providing support and hope to those trapped in similar situations.
The economics
Liberia has been on the U.S. State Department’s human trafficking watch list for years. However, the economic impacts of the COVID-19 pandemic mean poverty-stricken victims have become even easier prey for traffickers.
Before she left, Zaccheus sold beans, flour, and other dry goods at a market stall in Liberia’s capital, Monrovia. She had wanted to keep her nine-year-old son Blessing in school, but she needed more money for the fees. She took a loan from friends to start the business but only made the equivalent of $80 Cdn a week.
CBC met Zaccheus in Monrovia in July 2023, three months after she returned home. During the interview, she explained that in 2021, she met a woman advertising well-paid jobs in Oman who told her she could make $500 US ($679 Cdn) a month. So Zaccheus decided to go.
CBC spoke with Uganda-based recruitment agent Francis Kereba, who said he earns up to $5,000 a month from trafficking women — 25 times the average salary in Liberia.
Christian Mayanja, a former agent, told CBC he used to recruit workers from Uganda to work in Saudi Arabia and admitted he knew the women he sent overseas were at risk of being exploited and abused.
“The only business [traffickers] know is numbers. The more numbers, the more commission, and the more payment,” said Mayanja. “Very few of them … will factor in the concept that as much as we try to sell this commodity, this product, once these people buy it on that side there, there’s a chance of [the trafficked individuals] being tortured.”
When she first arrived in Oman, Zaccheus was taken to a so-called recruitment office in Muscat, where she lived for a while. She later told Reddick that even though things were awful with her “employers,” she was most terrified of going back to the recruitment office.
Credit: CBC
