I (Joel) arrived at the workshop a little early this morning and thought I would treat myself to a second breakfast. I put my bag down in the office and began the short walk to get my egg-toast. The thing about The Loyal Workshop is that we are situated right in the heart of the red light area. So, stepping out the front door, I walked past a large brothel just a few metres from our doorstep. On any given day, at any given time, five to twelve women can be found sitting outside this brothel on plastic stools waiting for customers.

As I walked past, I overheard two women talking. One was visibly upset, saying to the other, “Amader jiboner d aam nei.”

Translated, this essentially means, “Our lives have no value.”

I kept walking, but her words were stuck running round my head over and over again. I really wanted to offer some kind of reassurance to her, but in that moment what could be said that wouldn’t first sound like a platitude or a token band-aid to a weeping wound? I didn’t agree, yet I could understand her. She, and those working alongside her, are exploited for a few rupees every single day and are then tossed aside. I regularly walk past at various times throughout the day and see customers approaching them. Sometimes I overhear these men whittling down the price of the service they are purchasing as if they are buying vegetables from the market. Explicit and incessant exposure to this communicates a very particular message about a human being’s perceived value.

In the Loyal office, there is a green folder which is stuffed full of papers. Each piece of paper represents a woman working in the red light area who has come into The Loyal Workshop seeking a job. These women often break down and cry as they share a small piece of their story and plead for help. They are desperate for an alternative way to provide for their families. The names of the individuals in this folder represent women who have a desire to leave the exploitation that they experience in the sex trade. They come to our door because they have seen the gradual transformation that has occurred in the lives of the Loyal artisans who also once sat on plastic stools outside of brothels, waiting for customers to purchase their services.