Athletes Against Exploitation had officially been launched, with a big GAA match and gala. Eileen, Sheila and I were holding several press conferences to discuss the issue and the sponsors behind all the events. Eileen McGrath-Roth was the one primarily in the spotlight at these conferences, with Sheila promoting the sponsors and me “as the voice of conscience and catalyst” for the campaign. I didn’t get to say too much, but I had gotten enough attention to get an interview on Dublin’s newest FM radio station, Christian Soul.
Christian Soul had started out as Soul, a station at the end of the dial that played R&B music. It lasted two years before folding and being bought out by an American Christian student organisation, who kept the name. A lot of the music they play doesn’t appeal to me, being a lot of country and western style songs, but some of the interview and talk shows they run at night are inspiring and uplifting. Cara changes the station immediately when I listen to Christian Soul in the car; these days, Niamh is often in the car with us, and she tunes it right back in.
The researcher who contacted me to come on the Christian Soul “Joy Cometh in the Morning” show asked me all about the Red Light Prayer, and if I could speak specifically about that. An hour later, they called back to say I wouldn’t be on “Joy Cometh in the Morning”, but on the evening “Rhythm and Praise” show, which was a music programme, not a talk show. Christine, the lady who called me, said the host of that programme, Tenneh Dumbuya, specifically asked to do the interview.
“We’ll re-run the interview on Joy Cometh in the Morning, but you’ll have a larger audience with Rhythm and Praise.”
According to Niamh, Rhythm and Praise was the one show on Christian Soul Cara would listen to without protest. She liked the urban music they played, and found the host, Tenneh Dumbuya from Sierra Leone, entertaining and funny. I took it as a sign from God that appearing on that programme would help me reach out to Cara. She had started counselling, but was still sullen and withdrawn. Ever since Niamh had decided to turn her life over to Christ, Cara had less and less patience with me, convinced that I was on some sort of crusade for converts. I tried to tell her that I was delighted Niamh had found Jesus, but leading people to Him didn’t give me any brownie points. Cara groaned and rolled her eyes when I said that, reminding me an awful lot of the way Niamh used to be. I prayed to God for perseverance and strength; again, two things I used to pray for in dealing with Niamh.
“I’ll be happy to do Rhythm and Praise,” I told Christine. I wasn’t so happy that the interview would be tonight at 9 – I had hoped for more time to prepare. But Rhythm and Praise was only on Wednesday and Saturday evenings, with Saturday being mostly a repeat of Wednesday.
I told Sheila I would be doing the interview; out courtesy, not asking permission. Christian Soul was the media, but they were small potatoes compared to the national news and newspapers we had done press conferences with. She still suggested we run it by Eileen.
“Of course Lisa should do it. This is for the Christian circle she’s a part of,” Eileen said immediately. She looked a bit annoyed that Sheila had delayed a conference call to mention the interview. “I couldn’t be happier with the campaign and the exposure it’s brought us,” she said to me. “You and I need to have a talk about a bonus and upping your responsibilities around here.”
I was momentarily stunned by this hint of a promotion. Sheila quickly jumped in, clapping me on the back and congratulating me. Eileen waved us out of her office, telling her assistant to start the conference call.
“I guess I’m not your boss anymore,” Sheila said rather stiffly to me. I shrugged – I hadn’t talked with Eileen yet, so I had no idea what anything meant. I could tell Sheila was worrying about her position, so I felt I should be comforting to her.
“You’ll always be a mentor to me,” I told her. She pulled me into an awkward hug; after a beat of two seconds, we separated and went our different ways. I wondered how it would be between us once I had the talk with Eileen and the promotion was more concrete.
Back at my desk, I called everyone I knew to listen in to Christian Soul that night – my family, the bible study group and Niamh. They all wished me luck. I wasn’t worried about talking about the campaign; this was my job, after all. I was a bit worried that I wouldn’t give a good testimony, but Tommy was quick to remind me per text not to listen to Satan’s lies. U will b fine – GOD is with U!
They told me to come a half hour early, which Christine said was mostly to do with traffic, as Christian Soul was in Irishtown. I was surprised by how professional the place looked – as the station depended on donations, there were evidently a lot of Christian funds to establish different sound desks and studios. I didn’t get to meet Tenneh Dumbuya before the interview, because she was doing the newsbreak before the hour. I swept in the studio just as the theme music to Rhythm and Praise started, and Tenneh waved to me across the mike. I took my seat and Tenneh started speaking with a big smile.
“Tonight on Rhythm and Praise, we are doing something very different. We will get to our fabulous Christian music, but first I want to welcome my special invited guest, Lisa O’Toole. This beautiful Christian lady works in Public Relations, and is doing something in the name of the Lord! Lisa, would you please tell us about Athletes Against Exploitation?”
I wasn’t sure if I should say hello and thanks for having me on the show, or just answer the question. I looked at Tenneh, who batted her big brown eyes at me, and pointed to my microphone.
“Can it be this PR executive is afraid of speaking on the radio?” she teased. She laughed a wonderful rich laugh, putting me at ease immediately.
“No!” I said into the mike, laughing. “Athletes Against Exploitation is a big campaign against sex trafficking, I got the idea for this campaign from my church prayer diary, where I learned about the Red Light Prayer. We’re getting famous sports stars in Ireland to speak out against the sex trade.”
“What is this Red Light Prayer?” Tenneh asked, zeroing in on this.
“It’s something you do when stopped at traffic lights, but the name comes from the red light district, where you’ll find prostitutes, people who have been trafficked to work in the sex trade. These people aren’t there willingly – they have been lied to, abused, abducted, taken advantage of…and they’re being used. They’re not treated like people –they are commodities, something to be used for someone else’s gratification.” I took a breath.
Tenneh took advantage of the pause. “The question people ask, is does prayer work? Lisa, have you seen this prayer work?”
“Yes, prayer works. And since I’ve been doing the Red Light Prayer, there have been a number of arrests of sex traffickers in the United States. As Christians, we believe in the power of prayer. With the Red Light Prayer, you’re not just praying for the victims, you’re also praying for an end to the sex industry, for a change of heart in the people traffic and who use prostitutes. Prayer is a powerful weapon – in the days of slavery, trading African people, the abolitionists relied on prayer to help them end that disgraceful industry. They were praying for their fellow man – both slave and slave-trader. Some people may think this sounds wimpy, but you are asking for God’s help in this struggle. The African slave trade ended; we believe that prayer will also help end the sex trade, which is a modern day slavery.”
“Powerful words, saying prostitution is slavery,” Tenneh said. “A lot of people will shy away from making that comparison.”
I nodded. “We often have this idea that there are people who work in such a degrading industry of their own free will. We think of places where prostitution is legal, and think as long as it’s regulated, it’s okay, but really, what child says I want to be a prostitute when I grow up? Why are prostitutes often drug addicts, victims of domestic abuse and sexual assault? These are people in despair! The prostitute almost never sees the proceeds from the sex trade – the money goes to the pimps and brothels. Going to a prostitute is abusing someone, using their situation against them. “ I exhaled. “And that’s just western society – what about places in Asia where a girl’s body is sold to repay a family debt? Or where children are sold to brothels because families can’t afford to feed them? These people are bought and sold, then rented out…that sounds like slavery to me!”
“It is slavery!” Tenneh pronounced, closing her eyes and nodding. She opened her eyes, which were now tear filled. “Lisa you haven’t talked about when this sexual degradation of women and children is being used as a weapon, a war crime.”
I bit my lip. “There’s a lot of sexual slavery in war. For example, when people become the spoils of war, like the Japanese comfort women. Or part of a systematic punishment, like the rape camps in the former Yugoslavia. Or simply when people take advantage of chaos to abuse people.” Like the Chinese-Korean snakeheads who prey upon refugees from North Korea.
Tenneh wiped the tears away and took a deep breath. “I specifically requested to be able to interview Lisa about the Red Light Prayer and Athletes Against Exploitation because it is an issue very close to my heart.” She paused, brushing another tear away, and continued. “For you see…I was a sex slave.”
I covered my mouth with my hands in shock at this revelation. Tenneh swallowed hard, then kept speaking.
“As many of you know, I am from Sierra Leone. As many of you should know, my country was ravaged by civil war for eleven years. I and my family were casualties of this civil war…my father and older brother were killed. My other brother was taken away to be a child soldier and presumably, eventually killed. My mother, sister and I were raped by the army that took over our town. My mother was murdered after they were done with her, right in front of us. My sister and I weren’t murdered, but given to SLA soldiers as wives.” Tenneh closed her trembling mouth to hold back a sob. “I was nine years old.”
My hands muffled the gasp I breathed. I kept one hand over my mouth, and flung the other out to Tenneh, to grasp her hand in mine.
Tenneh laughed, a shadow of the hearty laugh she had greeted me with. “This beautiful Christian lady is holding my hand,” she told the listeners. “But we are not sitting here in misery!” She raised our joined hands up to the ceiling. “We are raising our hands in triumph, because of the Lord who has rescued me and is reaching out to others in need.” She squeezed my hand and brought it down, but did not let go.
“I am no longer a slave. In Romans 6, we are told we are no longer slaves to sin. I am not a slave to hatred. I can say to my so-called husband I forgive you…but he is dead. So I say in the spirit of Truth and Reconciliation, to the soldiers who killed my family, I forgive you! To the one who brutalised and killed my mother, I forgive you! To the men who raped my sister and me, we forgive you, and we only hope you can find the one who gives us this freedom to forgive. Jesus, you saved the adulteress and told her to sin no more…we are calling on you to save the people who enslave others, and convince them to go and sin no more. Join with me in the Red Light Prayer – God, please free these slaves of sin!”
“Amen!” I sobbed, and Tenneh brought our hands up to the ceiling again. She smiled brightly, and let go of my hand to fade music in. “And now, as I promised, good Christian music! Let Jesus do what you can’t!” As soon as she turned the song up and muted our mikes, I threw myself at her in a hug. We laughed and cried together, but Tenneh kept an ear out for what she was doing. As soon as the song ended, she pounced on the desk, turning her mike on. “Hallelujah, what a great song! What a great God!” I took my chair and Tenneh turned my mike up. “Lisa…how can our listeners get involved with Athletes Against Exploitation?”
I was moved by Tenneh’s story, but in awe of how professional she was. Wiping my eyes, I stammered out the dates of the matches being held for the campaign, and the times and venues for the associated parties. She asked me what else people could do, so I said pray. Once again, Tenneh took to the mike in open prayer.
“Jesus, Lord, we thank you for all you have done for us. We thank you for our salvation, in so many ways.” She squeezed my hand again. “We come to you now to ask you to save others. Save people from being forced to sell or trade their bodies. Lord, we ask you to save people from abusing others. We are all brothers and sisters, made in your image. Don’t let us forget this…don’t let us abuse our brothers and sisters. Save us, Jesus, save us!”
“Amen,” I put in.
“Amen,” Tenneh repeated. She faded music in. “And now, so more music about how faithful our God is!” I’m glad she turned our mikes off, because we sang along with the song. I couldn’t take my eyes off the dynamo of a woman who was Tenneh – I thanked God for letting me meet her. But mostly I thanked Him for the change in her life…she was a shining beacon of hope to anyone who had been trafficked.