In 2019 one of Mimi’s sisters met a plausible young businessman in a nightclub. They started to date. He told her he could help her get to Europe, where with her skills as a hair stylist she would “make it big” in no time. All the sisters – three in their 20s, one still a teenager – were short of cash; Mimi had dropped out of university for lack of it. They asked the man if they could all go together. He seemed to think that was an excellent idea. The sisters snuck off without telling their parents. Their journey was hair-raising. The first smuggler’s car stopped in the bush, and the women were told to ride on the back of motorbikes. They raced across what the riders described as dangerous terrain, full of bandits, and sneaked across their first international border, into Niger. They travelled by night, usually by bus, from safe house to safe house. In Agadez, a city in the centre of Niger, the smugglers took their phones “for safekeeping”. The women were told they would get them back when they reached Libya. Mimi and her sisters were packed into a truck with other young women – perhaps 30 of them in total – each one squeezed between the legs of the woman behind her. After six days they arrived in Libya. A soldier at the border took a wad of cash from the driver and waved them through. At another roadblock, soldiers gave them a choice: pay 100 Libyan dinars each, or be raped. Mimi and her sisters found the money; some of the other travellers didn’t have enough. At their destination, the traffickers told Mimi and her sisters that they each owed 20,000 Libyan dinars (about $4,000) for the ride, and would have to pay it off by selling sex. At first they refused, but after days of beatings “we finally gave up,” said Mimi. | | |