How I saved girls from being trafficked

Ruchira Gupta, the activist and writer talks about her life's mission -- rescuing young girls pushed into sex work.

As a journalist, my path to activism and authorship was not one I had foreseen. It became an essential extension of my commitment to create a world where no child is bought or sold. 

One harrowing encounter stands out in my memory — a man, brandishing a knife, threatening to silence me. But the women I was trying to rescue, brave and defiant, surrounded me, declaring that they had chosen to tell their stories, and he would have to go through them first. In that moment, I learned a profound lesson about the power of collective action, of women coming together to defy the odds and demand justice.

My journey with activism is paved with heart-wrenching encounters and life-altering experiences.

It all began in the remote villages of Nepal, where I stumbled upon a chilling reality — missing girls. They were snatched from their families and thrust into the shadows of the sex trade. Determined to uncover the truth, I followed the trail, which led me to the bustling red-light district
of Mumbai. 

What I witnessed there shook me to my core. Little girls, locked in tiny rooms, some even displayed in cages like commodities for sale. Anger and sorrow welled up within me, but amidst the darkness, I found a flicker of hope — the courage of mothers determined to break the silence and end the normalisation of sexual exploitation.

As a reporter, my first instinct was to tell their stories, to shine a light on the horrors they endured. Thus, ‘The Selling of Innocents’ was born. Released in 1996, the documentary gave voice to the voiceless and exposed the brutal reality of sex trafficking. Despite the dangers that lurked around every corner, I forged ahead, spending countless hours interviewing women in the brothels, each one a testament to the resilience of the human spirit.

Making the switch 

The documentary won me an Emmy, the American award given for excellence in the television industry. But when I was on stage collecting my trophy, all I could see beyond the lights and the applause were the eyes of the mothers from Mumbai’s brothels. In that instance, I decided to use the recognition to make a difference, instead of building a career in journalism.

I stepped off the stage and turned to the lady who handed me the award — she was the US Secretary of State for health — and asked for her help. I told her I wanted to change the existing laws so that the traffickers are punished and not the women being trafficked. She introduced me to congressmen, senators and UN officials.

I worked with these contacts to screen my film at multiple venues, testify to the crime and propose a law that would decriminalise victims and punish perpetrators. With friends and allies I made in the process, I can proudly report that I played a role in the passage of both the UN protocol to end trafficking in persons and
the US Trafficking Victims Protection Act.

Seeds of change

But of course that was not enough. I went back to the women in Mumbai’s brothels and asked them what they wanted. They had four dreams — a school for their children, a room of their own, a job in an office and punishment of the perpetrators. Together we set up the NGO, Apne Aap, in 2002 and the four dreams became our business plan.

We rented a room in a municipal school and hired a teacher. However, we were ill-prepared for our first obstacle. The principal objected to educating children of “prostitutes”. That’s when we took our first women’s circle — the Apne Aap Mahila Mandal of mothers — to the principal and begged, cried and cajoled. Soon the principal relented.

Today that first batch is among the 3,000 children from the Apne Aap community centres across India. They completed school and college and have even found jobs as teachers, nurses, police officers, chefs, security guards, managers, animation artists and call centre workers.

Thousands of women have exited systems of prostitution because of Apne Aap. Two red-light areas where we work are now green-light areas — traffickers are in jail, children are in school and the women have converted the brothels into safe homes and small businesses like tea and masala shops and tailoring units.

These empowered women took to the streets for a march, to demand a change in the UN trafficking protocol to punish the perpetrator. I took one of them with me to testify in Parliament. As I addressed India’s Parliament, I surprised the MPs by giving half my speaking time to Meenu Chettry, a survivor leader. 

Meenu’s impassioned speech resonated deeply, emphasising the importance of investing in empowering at-risk women and girls. Her presence brought a sense of empathy and resolve to the chamber, inspiring all who listened. I did this because I believed in the power of lived experience to drive change and wanted to give Meenu equal participation in shaping policies that directly impact survivors.

We only succeeded after the Jyoti Singh Pandey rape in December 2012 when more survivors met politicians, made submissions to the Verma Commission and held press conferences. We marched on the streets once again to demand that prostitution be treated as commercial rape. We wanted the new law on sexual assault to punish traffickers and sex buyers along with other perpetrators. And that’s how Section 370 of the Indian Penal Code came about. It defines trafficking under Indian law.

One step at a time

A total of 64 traffickers are in jail thanks to the women of Apne Aap. We have succeeded girl by girl and law by law.

One pivotal moment came in Forbesganj, Bihar, where girls from the nomadic Nat tribe were groomed for prostitution. Determined to break the cycle, we empowered them with karate and kung fu, teaching them to respect their bodies and defend themselves against traffickers. The ripple effects were profound — self-confidence soared, bullying ceased, and communities rallied around their daughters, fuelling a movement for change.

We also educate the women about recognising signs of trafficking, testifying in court and filing complaints. 

Priya, a woman we worked with, lived in a modest hut made of bamboo and thatch, surrounded by verdant fields and towering trees. When I visited her one afternoon, the air was thick with the scent of earth and foliage, mingled with the distant hum of village life. 

As I sat with Priya beneath the shade of a banyan tree, she shared her story with me. Her voice trembled with both fear and resolve as she recounted the day she was approached by a smooth-talking stranger promising a better life in the city. The memory of that encounter filled her with dread, yet amidst the fear, there was a glimmer of hope. Priya spoke of her dreams of becoming a teacher, of lifting herself and her family out of poverty.

Moved by her courage, I took her hand in mine, offering her the support and guidance she needed to resist the snares of traffickers. Together, we devised a plan to raise awareness in her community, empowering other girls to recognise and thwart the tactics of exploitation. As we parted ways that day, I promised Priya that she was not alone in her struggle, that I would stand by her side every step of the way. And I did. 

When the trafficker approached her again, she told him to wait at the bus stop while she fetched her clothes. Then, armed with the training from Apne Aap, she went back with our social worker and a local police officer to the bus stop. The man was arrested and later jailed thanks to Priya’s testimony. 

Activist to author

The intricate and often harrowing experiences I encountered through my activism provided me with deep insights into the human condition. Each story of struggle and survival I came across was a testament to the indomitable spirit of those fighting against all odds. 

These stories needed a different medium to reach a wider audience. ‘I Kick and I Fly’, which was released last year, was born from this realisation. The novel, while fictional, draws deeply from real experiences and
challenges faced by survivors of trafficking.

I see my transition from activist to author not as a shift but as an expansion of my advocacy. Writing has provided another avenue to fight against trafficking, to influence perceptions, and to foster empathy. It’s a powerful tool in our arsenal — a means to sow seeds of change in the minds of readers across the globe. 

The UN says human trafficking is the second largest organised crime in the world. It generates more than $150 billion for traffickers and trades in millions of people. In 2022, the number of registered victims in
India as per the National Crime Records Bureau was 6,533 but NGOs report that the number runs to
hundreds of thousands.

Voice for the voiceless

As I continue my work, both at Apne Aap and as a professor at New York University, I am reminded daily of the impact of storytelling. Whether through documentaries, activism, or novels, the essence of our efforts lies in giving voice to the voiceless and in shining a light on the darkest corners of human exploitation. 

The journey from the streets of Forbesganj to the publication of a novel has been long and fraught with challenges. Yet, it has been immensely rewarding. As an activist author, my hope is to continue bridging the gap between awareness and action, to educate, inspire, and mobilise a new generation of advocates. The battle against sex trafficking is far from over, but with every story we tell and every life we touch, we move closer to a world where freedom and dignity are inalienable rights for all.

Today, as I look back on my journey from activism to authorship, I am filled with gratitude for the opportunities I have had to make a difference in the world.

I have dedicated my life to fighting for justice and equality for all. And though the road ahead may be long and challenging, I am more determined than ever to continue the fight — one word, one girl, one story, one law at a time.