The Ordeal of Setti

The Ordeal of Setti

Ksenia Kisselincheva

 

One day Setti, a fifteen year old Guinea girl came back from school at 1:00 p. m.  And as she entered her home, she found her mom, lying on the floor in the kitchen. At first, she thought her mom had fainted for she suffered from a chronic heart condition. But when Setti kneeled to take her mom's pulse, she was appalled. The body was cold and stiff and the mouth was gaping. Mother Hetti was dead! Setti broke out into tears and she roared with grief so loudly that the neighbors rushed in to see what was happening. After the neighbors, the relatives followed suit.

 Her uncle, Borun, who was her mother's older brother, had been appointed by the court as Setti's guardian, since when her dad left the family, she was only six. Now her guardian was supposed to take care of the funeral preparations, while some of her female relations occupied themselves with consoling Setti and her two younger sisters.

The doctor and the priest arrived fast on the spot. Borun took care of paying the doctor for examining the corpse and writing a cause of death statement. The priest sprinkled incense all round the house to expel the evil spirits. The funeral ceremony had been planned to take place on the following day at the Catholic Church in Konakri, Guinea.

 Hetti had been a devout Christian and had attended church service every Sunday. Borun took care of paying for the funeral ceremony in church to Father Harum. And discreetly, he gave some tip to the priest to inspire him to make an extra effort.

 

In two hours everybody had been gone and Uncle Borun was left with Setti and her younger sisters. Then he told Setti:

'I know you are still very young but you have to leave school and find a job. I have noticed that you enjoy helping your mom, let her soul rest in peace, with the cleaning and cooking. Have a look at some adverts in the newspapers about a job as domestic help in some rich country like Kuwait, Abu Dhabi or Saudi Arabia.'

Before leaving, Uncle Borun said:

'After the funeral ceremony is over tomorrow, I will leave. But I am coming back in a month's time to see how the cookie crumbles.'

 

'Uncle Borun, I'm under age, I'll have to pay for a false passport.'

'I will pay for it. Certainly, I have to check up if it is a good forgery, before paying for it.'

'All right, Uncle Borun. I'll do as I am told.'

A few days passed, before Setti was able to collect a pile of newspapers which had been read and left over on garden benches and in the teacher's lounge at her school. She folded them with great care, as if they were a priceless treasure.

Returning from school, first she took care of her younger sisters. After that, she sat in her study corner and perused them slowly to find the pages with job adverts in foreign countries. The employers in the rich Arabic countries put a lower age limit of twenty. Therefore Setti had to go now to the bars where the human traffickers hung around and she had to bargain with them. She had put some money aside, when selling merchandise on the market on Sunday and she was going to put that amount of money as a deposit for obtaining a passport.

She did not go there on her own, she asked Guran, an older male cousin of hers, to accompany her in the shady and dangerous district of Konakri where the traffickers hung around.

Guran was tough guy and he would not allow anyone to mess around with him. They ended up with a fake passport where a stamp had been placed to make it look exactly like a genuine one. Uncle Borun came round and scrutinized the fake passport with a magnifying glass. He then took it to a friend   who was a retired investigator at a police department to have a look at it. Finally, he concluded that it looked like a good forgery and produced the rest of the money required.  

Then Cousin Guran promised to Setti to accompany her to an internet cafe downtown when she was ready to write email letters to a number of prospective employers she had selected.   

 

Setti was absolutely exhilarated that at this fragile age of fifteen, she was the holder of a passport, confirming that she was twenty. She hoped that by the end of the school year, which would be in four months, she would have found a job in one of those oil rich countries which looked on adverts like paradise on earth.

 

One day, two months later, she received an email from an employer from Kuwait City, the capital of Kuwait. He, Mr Assadi, stated that he would like to employ her as a domestic help under certain conditions, laid out further. He had checked up the photocopy of her passport at the local police department and had found it looked genuine.

 On his part, he made the effort of presenting a few photos of his home. His domicile was a glamorous house on two floors, surrounded with a lush garden and a large swimming pool. Mr Assadi made it clear that he had a gardener who was supposed to take care of the garden and the pool.

He said further that her monthly salary for taking care of the house would be negotiable, depending on what duties she would agree to perform and how good she is at performing them. She received a couple of other offers from Kuwait but the one of Mr Assadi still appeared to be the most attractive one.     

By the end of June, the school year was over. So, Setti was getting ready to leave for Kuwait City. Mr Assadi was kind enough to make a money transfer for a plane ticket via Money gram in the name of Uncle Borun. Setti was extremely excited, for this was the first time she would travel by air!

When Uncle Borun brought the ticket, Setti jumped with joy like a little girl. She placed it inside her passport which she kept in a hideout behind the icon of the Holy Virgin. When she went to bed, she could not go to sleep. She had been saying all her prayers during this sleepless night and in the morning she went to Father Harum to give her his blessing, before her travel to the big wide world.

Father Harum said a special long prayer of blessing for young Setti. Then he took her delicate hand in his big coarse hand and said:

'My dear Setti, you are so young and so innocent, you are not yet ready to get launched into the big wide world. You must get in touch with Father Dominique, the priest at the Catholic Church in Kuwait City. I have duly written to him and he unconditionally agreed to be your local guardian.'

 

Father Harum was well respected in Setti's neighborhood for the multiple charity events, organized nonstop for those in dire need. Setti kissed with reverence his coarse hand which was that of a farmer, he worked hard on his plot in his spare time. He must have been busy for eighteen hours a day, combining his innumerable duties to his congregation with working on his plot of land and looking after cows, goats and sheep.

Father Harum kissed Setti on the forehead and crossed her as a final blessing. Setti was touched to the quick and tears of gratitude rolled down her cheeks. She was still an innocent child and did not suspect how hostile and cruel the big wide world could be.

 

Her first employer, Mr Assadi had been waiting for her at the super modern airport of Kuwait City. She cut out quite an attractive figure when she stepped out on the movable ladder. She had rolled up her thick curly hair into a bun at the top of her head, she wore patent leather shoes on high heels and she pushed a red and black suitcase on wheels. The shoes and the suitcase had been donated to her by Father Harum. Surely, she looked much older in appearance, but her eyes and smile vaguely betrayed the fact that she was still a child.

She was wearing a scarlet scarf around her neck, as agreed, and the man instantly recognized her. He politely cried out "Welcome to Kuwait City!" and took hold of her suitcase and her travel bag.

In an instant Setti found herself seated in the back of a white limousine, looking out of the window at this city which seemed unreal to her like a magic dream. Strangely, nobody seemed to be seen walking on the streets, since the electronic thermometers on the glass and steel skyscrapers, towering into the sky, showed forty five degrees centigrade.

 

The house was elegantly perched like a bird on a green mound. It was made of glass and steel too and was surrounded by lush greenery with sophisticated system of irrigation. Instead of a fence, there was a tall hedge which was fancifully trimmed down in English style.          

 

The wife, Mrs Assadi, opened the door for them, when the melodious bell tinkled. She was dressed in a loose gray robe and she sized up Setti from head to foot, as if she was going to sell her like an object at the market. Her dark impenetrable eyes pierced through Setti's frail figure like poisonous arrows, while her face was frozen in an artificial grin. The girl shuddered with terror for a few seconds, but then she beamed one of her charismatic smiles. She bowed gracefully as a sign of respect and humility.            

The hostess offered her black tea and biscuits with cream filling and while doing this, she repeated several times the name of her foreign visitor : Setti Jawara". The husband came along and showed his wife the passport of their prospective domestic help. Then he said:

I'm going to keep it for some time until it is validated by the local authorities.'

Setti felt cold shivers, shooting up her spine but struggled to nod in assent and uttered politely:

'Certainly, Sir. You can keep it as long as you want.'

 

The wife whom Mr Assadi called Ettel, took Setti round the huge house and showed her the most up-to-date equipment which they had for the purpose of cleaning and tidying the house. She spoke in a blurred broken English with a strong Arabic accent. On her part, Setti spoke fluently only a few words of English. Though, when spoken to, she could understand English quite well. At school, she studied English hard and she had an excellent mark in the subject. But her speaking skills were far from good for lack of practice. 'Thank God, they did not ask for her graduation diploma.'

 

Madam Ettel was trying to explain what Setti's daily schedule should be like. Setti asked if she could call home once a week. Her new mistress said that she could call once in two weeks. Setti dared to ask about a day off which was included into her contract, but Ettel replied they would discuss this clause of the contract later on. Setti did not understand the word "clause" but she did not want to show her new masters how ignorant she was.

Etel woke her up at 7:00 a.m. and gave her a meager breakfast - an apple and cornflakes with milk. When Setti dared to ask for a cup of coffee, Ettel offered reluctantly a cup of Turkish coffee which was one third of coffee and two thirds of water. Then they had business-like "briefing" and all her daily tasks had been scheduled.

 At 8:00 a.m. the poor underage girl was busy doing her job. She was quick to find out how the equipment worked and she had been cleaning and tidying up until 1:00 p.m. By that time Etel had prepared for her a modest lunch which consisted by a watery lentil soup and "tass kebab" with a very thick sauce and a few pieces of chicken meat floating in it. There was no dessert, except a rotten banana. Setti got off the table hungry but she did not dare to utter a word of complaint.

 She continued doing her tasks with shaky legs and hands and by 6:00 p.m., she had finished doing all her daily tasks, scheduled for her at the briefing. She was on the verge of fainting with exhaustion and under nourishment.

Ettel came round to inspect her work - she seemed pleased but she did not utter a single word. She acted as if she had been inspecting the work of a newly bought robot. Setti was brought to tears by this cruel treatment but she managed to fight back her tears:

'Are you pleased, Madam? Do you have any remarks?'

'None so far. Come downstairs to have your dinner.'

 

The dinner consisted of a sandwich, made of a blot of butter, some cheese and a small piece of pastrami. The sandwich which she devoured fast stuck like a lump in her throat and she wailed in a tiny voice:

'Can I have some milk or juice, please?'

'You eat too fast, you should not be so greedy.'

'Sorry, Madam. I was very hungry. Next time, I'll be more careful.'

 

Another two weeks elapsed and everything stayed the same. Setti was emaciated with hunger and fatigue but she did not dare to complain. Then she overheard through the door, which was left ajar, a chat on Instagram where both husband and wife took part in it. They were trying to sell her for more money than they had paid for her. Her hair stood on end and she felt like putting together her belongings in the trolley suitcase and getting on the run through the back kitchen door. But then she thought she might be luckier with her next employers and she pretended she knew nothing about this bargain of living flesh on the Internet. She sat it up through the inspection of her work by Mrs Monster and after this was done, she apologized and went to bed in the servant's room which was three meters long and one and a half meters wide. It did not command a view on the lovely garden but on a busy highway. 

The next day she prepared all her  belongings and her hard-won salary. Again she had no day off, so she had not spent a single penny on anything, like a proper meal, for instance.  Again she was refused to call her relatives in Konakri more than once a month.

By the skin of her teeth, she made a bundle of her belongings. In a few days Setti was transferred to her new employers. Unfortunately, the same story repeated itself. She was more and more tired, more hungered and getting extremely desperate. At least, she was lucky to get one salary from the first employers. She also managed to get her passport and her contract. However, she received no return ticket, as promised in the contract.

She started planning her escape at the end of the first week. She put huge effort to wait until the day when she was supposed to get her salary.

Then she waited until both of her masters drove away downtown in their car and she dashed out of the door. The door was locked with an electronic chip. She put away the chip in a hideout in the garden and trundled her trolley suitcase along the narrow sidewalk by the four lane highway.

 

She did not know which way she was going. She waved at the cars but nobody bothered to stop. She wanted to find out where the bus terminal to the airport was. Finally, a car stopped. Alas, it was a police car. They asked for her ID or her passport but she had none to offer. So, they decided she was suspicious and had her handcuffed. She resisted strongly but they managed to push her at the back seat and hurled her suitcase in the trunk of the car. She thought I am very lucky not to have anything in my luggage which could be broken.

 

They arrived soon at the nearest police station and again hurled brutally her suitcase on the ground. She could not hold it, for her hands were handcuffed. She wailed:

'Please, sir. Could you take my luggage. I have some valuable things in it.               

 'To hell with you! You might as well have a bomb in your luggage. We have to inspect it first.'

' Please, I'm no terrorist!'

'Don't teach us what to do.'

One of the policemen broke the lock of her suitcase and all her things spilled out on the dusty ground. Setti roared like a wounded panther and tried to collect her things with handcuffed hands. The other policeman took pity on her and helped her collect her pitiful belongings.

 

Then they took her inside the police station and put her through their grueling procedure. She had been cross examined and when she admitted she was a runaway from her job, they locked her up in a cell with a few other criminals. The night she spent in the cell was the nearest to hell she could imagine. Finally, she fainted and they poured water on her face until she came to. Afterwards she was taken to the nearest hospital. The doctors' consilium stated that she was on the brink of a heart attack. She was a foreign national and if she died she might bring disgrace on the state of Kuwait.  

 

Her second employers found out she had escaped from their house and they handed down her documents immediately to the police because they had no contract with her whatsoever. They realized they might be sued for hiring her, without a specific contract with the intermediacy of an employment agency.

Thank God, young Setti recovered quickly from her heart condition and she could name in her broken English the name of the agency which had employed her as a domestic help in Kuwait City. She kept insisting on going back to Konakri as soon as possible. She claimed her relatives could hear from her only once a month for five minutes.  Therefore by now they must have been greatly worried about the way she had been treated by her so called employers. An international agency, investigating human trafficking had contacted the agency which had found her first job and were determined to sue the employers. This international organization threatened to sue the employers on account of slave trafficking which involved a heavy punishment in jail. The officials from this organization paid an extra amount of money for Setti's longer stay in hospital. Both so called employers flagrantly lied before the police inspector that the poor girl had been taking drugs and had not been able to do her job properly.

When Setti walked out of the hospital, she looked at the blue sky and vowed before the Almighty God. I will never go to work in a foreign country. These people in Kuwait wore clothes like Moslems but they were no Moslems at heart. Actually, they were monsters under disguise. On the plane, she thought that one of the first things she would like to do is to visit Father Harum and tell him all about her ordeal. And ask him to be vigilant about persons who made the right noises as righteous Christians but who were actually monsters in disguise.