Esperance

Photo by Frank Busch on Unsplash

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Her name is Esperance.

Twenty years ago, she did something that nearly cost her her own life. She has recounted that moment several times to her 17 year old son over the years.

She always prayed that he would understand why she did what she did then and why some ghosts continue to haunt her.

I had just met Esperance in her new life and was getting to know more about her and her past. I listened intensely holding onto every word she spoke.

This particular evening, her son, Carlito, unbeknownst to Esperance and I, drifted off into a trance like siesta while she retold the story from her past …

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(20 years earlier)

On the way home, seated next to her snoring husband at the back of a black sedan, Esperance’s thoughts drifted to the daunting task she had ahead of her.

In less than 24 hours, she was about to attempt the most formidable and most daring thing she would ever do in her entire life. She knew too well that it could cost her very life. The stakes were so high.

The odds were greatly stacked against her and the people who were going to be involved. Not following through with the plan was no longer an option for she had made a vow to God in her most desperate moment, and now the time and opportunity had finally come to make good on that vow.

She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer for strength. Her faith journey had started a little over three years ago when she secretly met Pastor Juan Pablo in an underground church in the inner city. Pastor Juan’s ministry was secretly working with a few trusted allies locally and internationally to end human trafficking and sex-trade that was so notorious in Mexico.

San Carmelo was a strategic stronghold for the trade and once brought down; the rest would fall to their inevitable demise by domino effect. Esperance was now a key player in the operation. Her part was the most dangerous yet the most vital to the success of the whole thing.

“Lord, if I die, let it be for your glory.” She whispered subconsciously.

“What did you say?” a voice called from the front seat of the sedan, she was startled out of her deep thoughts.

It was Alejandro.

“Oh nothing, just sleep-talking.” She said looking aside with passive interest. She was a first class actress by now.

From the corner of her eye, she caught him glaring hatefully at her through the rear view mirror. Alejandro, her thoughts drifted wearily again. This time to ten years ago.

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Esperance recalled the day very well; it was set like cement in her memory forever. The course of her life changed drastically, sadly not for the good.

In October 1989, in the Northern Mexico country side of Santa Lucia, Esperance was an “A” student in high school and due for college in a few months. She was a very beautiful and brilliant girl with a bright future.

On that fateful October day, her world came crushing down when village goons working with a local criminal seized and abducted Esperance along with two other girls as they left school to go home. They were grabbed and shoved in a black SUV tinted van.

They were roughed up with blows to the face and then injected with some kind of sedative drug. That’s the last she recalled until she awoke in a strange place, dazed and in pain from blows upon her head.

The first thing she saw while struggling to make sense of things was a man standing above her snapping his fingers at her to gain consciousness.

It was Alejandro.

A tall and unpleasant looking man. He was the drug lord’s most trusted hench-man. From that moment, he would become her chief tormentor and abuser.

He was tasked with the job of turning the new girls into near inhumane sex-slaves, teaching them the tricks of the trade and introducing them to their unscrupulous clientele of depraved men from San Carmelo and beyond to make profit by extorting the girls.

Fast forward, Esperance had caught the interest of the drug-lord as a high value asset and also because she was beautiful in spite of the abuse, much to the displeasure of Alejandro. He had secretly wanted her for himself..***

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The story was suddenly interrupted by troubled muffled sounds of Carlito. He was visibly in a deep sleep, somewhat semi-concious but struggling to breathe, crying, and shaking.

“Carlito, wake up, wake up!” Esperance urged the young man fervently for the next 15 or so minutes. We were both in shock and tensed by the boy’s situation. He started to come out of it.

It felt like an eternity to me. By the time he woke up, I was dying to pee.

I run off to the restroom and was relieved. I washed my face and looked in the mirror. What a story this new friend was telling I thought to myself.

It’s not the end….

*** The flashback section of this piece is an excerpt from my book Candid Tales of Courage published in 2017.

© Winnie Malinga, Just Saying! 2020

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