"Broken Wings"

To shed light on the silent tragedy of young African girls trafficked overseas, lured by promises of work or education, only to be trapped in prostitution, abuse, and abandonment. The exhibition confront exploitation while centering the girls’ lost innocence, stolen choices, and enduring resilience.

The Promise

“Dreams Sold Cheap”

Mama said, “Go chase your future.”
The man smiled, spoke of jobs,
of a school across the ocean,
of money to send home.

I believed him.
I folded my hope into a small bag.
How could I know
I was packing for prison?


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#3

The Journey 

“Across Borders, Into Shadows”

The plane carried me higher than I’d ever been.
My heart was light,
my head full of tomorrow.

But the air was colder there.
The streets louder, the doors heavier.
Somewhere between the airport and the city,
I lost my name.

I crossed a border,
but it was freedom that stayed behind.

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The Trap 

 “A Room Without Exit”

They said, “Give us your passport.”
They said, “This is your room.”
The lock clicked.
The silence grew heavy.

The window was small,
the walls too thick.
My phone — gone.
My voice — gone.

I sat on the bed
and realized the world had gone on
without me.

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The Exploitation 

 “Used, and Used Again”

The men came like shadows,
one after another.
Their hands heavy,
their eyes empty.

I was not a girl.
I was an object passed around,
traded in whispers,
paid for in cash.

Each night,
another piece of me vanished.

Each morning,
I wondered if I was still alive.

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The Abandonment 

 “Dumped, Not Freed”

One day, they stopped coming.
Not because I was free,
but because I was broken.

They left me on the street —
barefoot,
nameless,
carrying only silence.

I was not free.
I was discarded.

And the world walked past me,
eyes turned away.

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The Memory / The Call

 “She Could Be Anyone’s Daughter”

I once laughed under the mango tree.
I once braided my sister’s hair.
I once dreamed of becoming a teacher.

I am not a ghost.
I am not a shadow.
I am your daughter,
your sister,
your neighbor’s child.

Tell my story.
Let it not happen again.

Let no girl’s wings
be broken this way.

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Closing Wall 

“Not For Sale”

Our daughters are not for sale.
Their dreams are not for export.
Their bodies are not for rent.

Remember us —
not as victims,
but as stolen voices
demanding to be heard.

Not for sale.
Not again.

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#20

Thank you for walking through these stories with us.
Your presence honors the voices that were silenced,
the daughters who were stolen,
and the futures that were broken.

May you leave not only with sorrow,
but with courage —
to protect, to speak, and to act.

Because change begins
when someone chooses not to look away.


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