At age 15, I was married off to a man I didn't know. Soon, my baby daughter brought me much joy, until a disease took her life away 10 months later. My husband left me for another woman, and I was alone and disgraced. I started working as a maid, but the wages I received could barely keep women like me going - the pimps made sure of it.

When I was 24, I was convinced that selling my body certainly couldn't be worse than starving to death, but I was wrong. Life in a brothel kept my body fed, but my spirit withered as the years passed. Eventually, a kind construction worker paid off my pimp and married me. I thought escape from prostitution would restore my dignity, but my guilt clung to me like a wet garment. I was broken inside.

One day at the market I met Rencha, who used to work in the red-light district. This former prostitute told me about Jesus, the God who could remove my sin and shame. She took me to Hilltop of Hope, where I am learning how to read, to sew, and to walk daily with Jesus my Savior. My sisters in Christ at Hilltop of Hope care for my new infant son, while I sew bags and share Jesus with women who remain enslaved in sex trafficking.