How to Ensure Survivors of Modern Slavery Stay Free

A women’s self-help group in one of the Freedom Fund's project areas, south-eastern Nepal. Members of the group have come together against bonded labor in their communities. (Credit: The Freedom Fund)

Organizations working to end human trafficking and modern slavery frequently throw around the word “freedom” in our theories of change, and we measure our impact based on how many individuals have moved from situations of exploitation to freedom. But when we say “freedom” in the anti-trafficking space, we tend to mean liberation from slavery. We measure how many individuals have been freed from exploitation and we emphasize dramatic transitions, as when a child is reunited with their family after being trafficked, a man is rescued from forced labor on a fishing boat, or a woman is released from debt bondage in a brick kiln. But liberation from slavery is only one part of freedom: Without unconstrained choice, the absence of exploitation is not enough to make you free. Freedom can only endure if you continue to have control over your own choices and actions after liberation.

Why does a sector that purports to advance freedom spend so little time providing access to greater financial security and education, the very things that survivors say are most critical to their continuing freedom? If we focus on providing immediate liberation and urgent assistance—the “three Ps”: protection of survivors, prosecution of traffickers, and prevention against future exploitation—this framework leaves the challenge of sustaining freedom up to each individual (especially when the survivor is an adult or a foreigner). 

As a survivor of human trafficking, I can pinpoint the moments in my life that translated to sustained freedom: When I was able to access trauma-informed therapy, to finish university, and to achieve financial security through stable employment. I was able to access all of these moments—that created more freedom—because of the financial resources of those close to me and, eventually, through creating my own financial security. Financial security allowed me to take care of immediate needs like rent or food while also allowing me the freedom to choose how I spent my disposable income. Financial security means earning more than enough money to scrape by; it also means being able to have a dinner out with friends every so often. That security gave me the gift of enjoying my life more fully, which brought me more peace and ease.
 
My experience is not unique. The Freedom Fund recently partnered with the University of Nottingham and Praxis on a study that asked 88 survivors of bonded labor in India what freedom means for them and what it would take to sustain their freedom over the long term. The overwhelming finding was that both child and adult survivors see freedom as having access to choices.

For adults, this means having the ability to choose work and gain financial security. For children, this means the ability to choose education and play while not having to worry about their family’s financial situation. And while safety and mental health tend to be major focuses of anti-trafficking programs, We were most surprised to learn that survivors ranked these factors much lower on the list than financial security, or didn’t list them at all. It drives home the value of long-term financial security: How can you focus on working through your trauma when you’re constantly worried about becoming homeless or about when you and your family might eat? 

Why doesn’t the anti-trafficking space focus more on the very things that survivors say are critical? Perhaps it is because anti-trafficking organizations are so seldom led by people who have experienced exploitation. Perhaps it is because most organizations do not have the resources or foresight to track the long-term outcomes of survivors who they support. But this study should be a call for anti-trafficking organizations to reconsider how they define, support, and measure freedom by, first, employing, listening to, learning from, and being led by survivors and those they serve.

The Praxis study was not the first of its kind; over the last 10 years, Chab Dai’s Butterfly Longitudinal Research Project has also found that economic empowerment is a key imperative for survivors and their families. But more research is needed, and investing in more studies to measure the long-term well-being and sustainability of freedom for survivors will allow us to determine the true effectiveness of solutions and programs being offered. Absent this essential body of research, academics, governments and front-line civil society organizations may have the tools to remove people from coercive conditions, but they will lack the knowledge or wherewithal to establish conditions that are conducive to their sustained liberation. This compounds the ever-present risk of survivors falling back into conditions of exploitation.

There are signs that we’re at the precipice of change: A small community of relatively new organizations is emerging, dedicated to challenging the current paradigm of anti-trafficking work by implementing models based on listening to and learning from survivors, so they can continue to support their long-term freedom. These groups are democratizing anti-slavery work, a bottom-up approach bringing it closer to those whom it is intended to help by incorporating their perspectives and experiences to inform the decisions and priorities of the movement as a whole. This may seem intuitive and obvious—and outside observers may question why it isn’t more prevalent already—but those working in the anti-slavery space have long observed that, too often, it is those whose everyday lives are farthest removed from the lived experiences of survivors who most often lead organizations dedicated to helping them.

Beginning in 2019, the Freedom Fund started closely partnering with a survivor-led organization, Survivor Alliance, and through that relationship launched a fellowship to start placing survivors into paid positions in the anti-slavery sector. This partnership, which has just launched with two fellows to date, serves to provide participants with access to stable careers in the anti-slavery sector or beyond, to support long-term economic security and the opportunity to be leaders in the anti-slavery sector. Because they are versed in the traps and pitfalls of exploitation, these new and emerging leaders are uniquely positioned to speak the language of survivors to those who are hardest to reach and to guide the space to create solutions that will have a sustained impact on survivors’ journeys through liberation.

Simultaneously, the Freedom Fund has launched Freedom Rising, a program that supports women and survivors by elevating them into positions of power in the anti-slavery sector. The program starts from the assumption that survivors themselves are best suited to create real and lasting change. Women are drastically overrepresented in exploitative conditions, making up fully 71 percent of trafficking survivors, so they are natural leaders for the global fight against these abuses. Compounding the struggle for women leaders, however, is the fact that even outside their experiences as survivors, women still hold a minority of executive leadership positions in C-suites and the nonprofit sector. Targeted, deliberate, and sustained action is required to ensure these survivors have the tools they need to succeed.

Beyond training the next generation of leaders in the anti-slavery sector, other organizations are doing yeoman’s work helping survivors establish marketable skills and contacts, enabling them to stay free after liberation. AnnieCannons trains survivors as coders so that they can work as consultants and earn a substantial living doing work that is well-paid and in-demand. This not only offers survivors an avenue to gainful employment but strengthens their resolve, self-worth, and independence by helping them elevate themselves to roles that society at large places a premium on. Similarly, Freedom Forward has created a center that co-locates services and resources for survivors and youth at risk of exploitation, all of which were selected by the survivors who they serve, giving participants a direct stake and investment in the program.

This is only the beginning. While these and other organizations stand as pioneers in the burgeoning field of survivor-led anti-trafficking work, others are sure to follow. As a survivor, my hope is that these organizations and their work challenge and inspire the rest of the movement to step up, think differently and listen more closely to the people who are closest to the problem. Without listening to the voices of those we are seeking to help, and letting them guide our work, we cannot hope to serve them with the dignity and humanity they deserve.

Read more stories by Amy Rahe.