Chapter One
The Girl Effect
What would men be without women? Scarce, sir, mighty scarce.
— MARK TWAIN
Srey Rath is a self-confident Cambodian teenager whose black hair
tumbles over a round, light brown face. She is in a crowded street
market, standing beside a pushcart and telling her story calmly, with
detachment. The only hint of anxiety or trauma is the way she often
pushes her hair from in front of her black eyes, perhaps a nervous tic.
Then she lowers her hand and her long fingers gesticulate and flutter in
the air with incongruous grace as she recounts her odyssey.
Rath is short and small-boned, pretty, vibrant, and bubbly, a wisp of a
girl whose negligible stature contrasts with an outsized and outgoing
personality.When the skies abruptly release a tropical rain shower that
drenches us, she simply laughs and rushes us to cover under a tin roof,
and then cheerfully continues her story as the rain drums overhead. But
Rath's attractiveness and winning personality are perilous bounties for
a rural Cambodian girl, and her trusting nature and optimistic
self-assuredness compound the hazard.
When Rath was fifteen, her family ran out of money, so she decided to go
work as a dishwasher in Thailand for two months to help pay the bills.
Her parents fretted about her safety, but they were reassured when Rath
arranged to travel with four friends who had been promised jobs in the
same Thai restaurant.The job agent took the girls deep into Thailand and
then handed them to gangsters who took them to Kuala Lumpur, the capital
of Malaysia. Rath was dazzled by her first glimpses of the city's clean
avenues and gleaming high-rises, including at the time the world's
tallest twin buildings; it seemed safe and welcoming. But then thugs
sequestered Rath and two other girls inside a karaoke lounge that
operated as a brothel. One gangster in his late thirties, a man known as
"the boss," took charge of the girls and explained that he had paid
money for them and that they would now be obliged to repay him."You must
find money to pay off the debt, and then I will send you back home," he
said, repeatedly reassuring them that if they cooperated they would
eventually be released.
Rath was shattered when what was happening dawned on her. The boss
locked her up with a customer, who tried to force her to have sex with
him. She fought back, enraging the customer. "So the boss got angry and
hit me in the face, first with one hand and then with the other," she
remembers, telling her story with simple resignation. "The mark stayed
on my face for two weeks." Then the boss and the other gangsters raped
her and beat her with their fists.
"You have to serve the customers," the boss told her as he punched her.
"If not, we will beat you to death. Do you want that?" Rath stopped
protesting, but she sobbed and refused to cooperate actively. The boss
forced her to take a pill; the gangsters called it "the happy drug" or
"the shake drug." She doesn't know exactly what it was, but it made her
head shake and induced lethargy, happiness, and compliance for about an
hour.When she wasn't drugged, Rath was teary and insufficiently
compliant—she was required to beam happily at all
customers—so the boss said he would waste no more time on her: She
would agree to do as he ordered or he would kill her. Rath then gave
in.The girls were forced to work in the brothel seven days a week,
fifteen hours a day. They were kept naked to make it more difficult for
them to run away or to keep tips or other money, and they were forbidden
to ask customers to use condoms. They were battered until they smiled
constantly and simulated joy at the sight of customers, because men
would not pay as much for sex with girls with reddened eyes and haggard
faces.The girls were never allowed out on the street or paid a penny for
their work.
"They just gave us food to eat, but they didn't give us much because the
customers didn't like fat girls," Rath says. The girls were bused, under
guard, back and forth between the brothel and a tenth-floor apartment
where a dozen of them were housed.The door of the apartment was locked
from the outside. However, one night, some of the girls went out onto
their balcony and pried loose a long, five-inch-wide board from a rack
used for drying clothes. They balanced it precariously between their
balcony and one on the next building, twelve feet away. The board
wobbled badly, but Rath was desperate, so she sat astride the board and
gradually inched across.
"There were four of us who did that," she says."The others were too
scared, because it was very rickety. I was scared, too, and I couldn't
look down, but I was even more scared to stay.We thought that even if we
died, it would be better than staying behind. If we stayed, we would die
as well."
Once on the far balcony, the girls pounded on the window and woke the
surprised tenant.They could hardly communicate with him because none of
them spoke Malay, but the tenant let them into his apartment and then
out its front door.The girls took the elevator down and wandered the
silent streets until they found a police station and stepped inside.The
police first tried to shoo them away, then arrested the girls for
illegal immigration. Rath served a year in prison under Malaysia's tough
anti-immigrant laws, and then she was supposed to be repatriated. She
thought a Malaysian policeman was escorting her home when he drove her
to the Thai border—but then he sold her to a trafficker, who
peddled her to a Thai brothel.
Rath's saga offers a glimpse of the brutality inflicted routinely
on women and girls in much of the world, a malignancy that is slowly
gaining recognition as one of the paramount human rights problems of
this century.
The issues involved, however, have barely registered on the global
agenda. Indeed,when we began reporting about international affairs in
the 1980s, we couldn't have imagined writing this book.We assumed that
the foreign policy issues that properly furrowed the brow were lofty and
complex, like nuclear nonproliferation. It was difficult back then to
envision the Council on Foreign Relations fretting about maternal
mortality or female genital mutilation.Back then, the oppression of
women was a fringe issue, the kind of worthy cause the Girl Scouts might
raise money for. We preferred to probe the recondite "serious issues."
So this book is the outgrowth of our own journey of awakening as we
worked together as journalists for The New York Times. The first
milestone in that journey came in China. Sheryl is a Chinese-American
who grew up in New York City, and Nicholas is an Oregonian who grew up
on a sheep and cherry farm near Yamhill, Oregon. After we married, we
moved to China, where seven months later we found ourselves standing on
the edge of Tiananmen Square watching troops fire their automatic
weapons at prodemocracy protesters. The massacre claimed between four
hundred and eight hundred lives and transfixed the world. It was the
human rights story of the year, and it seemed just about the most
shocking violation imaginable.
Then, the following year, we came across an obscure but meticulous
demographic study that outlined a human rights violation that had
claimed tens of thousands more lives.This study found that thirty-nine
thousand baby girls die annually in China because parents don't give
them the same medical care and attention that boys receive—and
that is just in the first year of life. One Chinese family-planning
official, Li Honggui, explained it this way: "If a boy gets sick, the
parents may send him to the hospital at once. But if a girl gets sick,
the parents may say to themselves, 'Well, let's see how she is
tomorrow.' "The result is that as many infant girls die unnecessarily
every week in China as protesters died in the one incident at Tiananmen.
Those Chinese girls never received a column inch of news coverage, and
we began to wonder if our journalistic priorities were skewed.
A similar pattern emerged in other countries, particularly in South Asia
and the Muslim world. In India, a "bride burning"—to punish a
woman for an inadequate dowry or to eliminate her so a man can
remarry—takes place approximately once every two hours, but these
rarely constitute news. In the twin cities of Islamabad and Rawalpindi,
Pakistan, five thousand women and girls have been doused in kerosene and
set alight by family members or in-laws—or, perhaps worse, been
seared with acid—for perceived disobedience just in the last nine
years. Imagine the outcry if the Pakistani or Indian governments were
burning women alive at those rates. Yet when the government is not
directly involved, people shrug.
When a prominent dissident was arrested in China, we would write a
front-page article; when 100,000 girls were routinely kidnapped and
trafficked into brothels, we didn't even consider it news. Partly that
is because we journalists tend to be good at covering events that happen
on a particular day, but we slip at covering events that happen every
day—such as the quotidian cruelties inflicted on women and
girls.We journalists weren't the only ones who dropped the ball on this
subject: Less than 1 percent of U.S. foreign aid is specifically
targeted to women and girls.
Amartya Sen, the ebullient Nobel Prize–winning economist, has
developed a gauge of gender inequality that is a striking reminder of
the stakes involved. "More than 100 million women are missing," Sen
wrote in a classic essay in 1990 in The New York Review of Books,
spurring a new field of research. Sen noted that in normal circumstances
women live longer than men, and so there are more females than males in
much of the world. Even poor regions like most of Latin America and much
of Africa have more females than males.Yet in places where girls have a
deeply unequal status, they vanish. China has 107 males for every 100
females in its overall population (and an even greater disproportion
among newborns), India has 108, and Pakistan has 111. This has nothing
to do with biology, and indeed the state of Kerala in the southwest of
India, which has championed female education and equality, has the same
excess of females that exists in the United States.
The implication of the sex ratios, Professor Sen found, is that about
107 million females are missing from the globe today.Follow-up studies
have calculated the number slightly differently, deriving alternative
figures for "missing women"of between 60 million and 101 million. Every
year, at least another 2 million girls worldwide disappear because of
gender discrimination.
In the wealthy countries of the West, discrimination is usually a matter
of unequal pay or underfunded sports teams or unwanted touching from a
boss. In contrast, in much of the world discrimination is lethal. In
India, for example, mothers are less likely to take their daughters to
be vaccinated than their sons—that alone accounts for one fifth of
India's missing females—while studies have found that, on average,
girls are brought to the hospital only when they are sicker than boys
taken to the hospital. All told, girls in India from one to five years
of age are 50 percent more likely to die than boys the same age.The best
estimate is that a little Indian girl dies from discrimination every
four minutes.
A big, bearded Afghan named Sedanshah once told us that his wife and son
were sick. He wanted both to survive, he said, but his priorities were
clear: A son is an indispensable treasure, while a wife is replaceable.
He had purchased medication for the boy alone. "She's always sick," he
gruffly said of his wife, "so it's not worth buying medicine for her."
Modernization and technology can aggravate the discrimination. Since the
1990s, the spread of ultrasound machines has allowed pregnant women to
find out the sex of their fetuses—and then get abortions if they
are female. In Fujian Province, China, a peasant raved to us about
ultrasound: "We don't have to have daughters anymore!"
To prevent sex-selective abortion, China and India now bar doctors and
ultrasound technicians from telling a pregnant woman the sex of her
fetus.Yet that is a flawed solution. Research shows that when parents
are banned from selectively aborting female fetuses, more of their
daughters die as infants. Mothers do not deliberately dispatch infant
girls they are obligated to give birth to, but they are lackadaisical in
caring for them. A development economist at Brown University, Nancy
Qian, quantified the wrenching trade-off: On average, the deaths of
fifteen infant girls can be avoided by allowing one hundred female
fetuses to be selectively aborted.
The global statistics on the abuse of girls are numbing. It appears that
more girls have been killed in the last fifty years, precisely because
they were girls, than men were killed in all the wars of the twentieth
century. More girls are killed in this routine "gendercide" in any one
decade than people were slaughtered in all the genocides of the
twentieth century.
In the nineteenth century, the central moral challenge was slavery. In
the twentieth century, it was the battle against totalitarianism.We
believe that in this century the paramount moral challenge will be the
struggle for gender equality in the developing world.
The owners of the Thai brothel to which Rath was sold did not
beat her and did not constantly guard her. So two months later, she was
able to escape and make her way back to Cambodia. Upon her return, Rath
met a social worker who put her in touch with an aid group that helps
girls who have been trafficked start new lives. The group, American
Assistance for Cambodia, used $400 in donated funds to buy a small cart
and a starter selection of goods so that Rath could become a street
peddler. She found a good spot in the open area between the Thai and
Cambodian customs offices in the border town of Poipet.Travelers
crossing between Thailand and Cambodia walk along this strip, the size
of a football field, and it is lined with peddlers selling drinks,
snacks, and souvenirs.
Rath outfitted her cart with shirts and hats, costume jewelry,
notebooks, pens, and small toys. Now her good looks and outgoing
personality began to work in her favor, turning her into an effective
saleswoman. She saved and invested in new merchandise, her business
thrived, and she was able to support her parents and two younger
sisters. She married and had a son, and she began saving for his
education.
In 2008, Rath turned her cart into a stall, and then also acquired the
stall next door. She also started a "public phone" business by charging
people to use her cell phone. So if you ever cross from Thailand into
Cambodia at Poipet, look for a shop on your left, halfway down the
strip, where a teenage girl will call out to you, smile, and try to sell
you a souvenir cap. She'll laugh and claim she's giving you a special
price, and she's so bubbly and appealing that she'll probably make the
sale.
Rath's eventual triumph is a reminder that if girls get a chance,
in the form of an education or a microloan, they can be more than
baubles or slaves; many of them can run businesses. Talk to Rath
today—after you've purchased that cap—and you find that she
exudes confidence as she earns a solid income that will provide a better
future for her sisters and for her young son. Many of the stories in
this book are wrenching, but keep in mind this central truth:
Women
aren't the problem but the solution.The plight of girls is no more a
tragedy than an opportunity. That was a lesson we absorbed in
Sheryl's ancestral village, at the end of a dirt road amid the rice
paddies of southern China. For many years we have regularly trod the mud
paths of the Taishan region to Shunshui, the hamlet in which Sheryl's
paternal grandfather grew up. China traditionally has been one of the
more repressive and smothering places for girls, and we could see hints
of this in Sheryl's own family history. Indeed, on our first visit, we
accidentally uncovered a family secret: a long-lost stepgrandmother.
Sheryl's grandfather had traveled to America with his first wife, but
she had given birth only to daughters. So Sheryl's grandfather gave up
on her and returned her to Shunshui, where he married a younger woman as
a second wife and took her to America.This was Sheryl's grandmother, who
duly gave birth to a son—Sheryl's dad.The previous wife and
daughters were then wiped out of the family memory.
Something bothered us each time we explored Shunshui and the surrounding
villages:Where were the young women? Young men were toiling
industriously in the paddies or fanning themselves indolently in the
shade, but young women and girls were scarce.We finally discovered them
when we stepped into the factories that were then spreading throughout
Guangdong Province, the epicenter of China's economic eruption.These
factories produced the shoes, toys, and shirts that filled America's
shopping malls, generating economic growth rates almost unprecedented in
the history of the world—and creating the most effective
antipoverty program ever recorded.The factories turned out to be
cacophonous hives of distaff bees. Eighty percent of the employees on
the assembly lines in coastal China are female, and the proportion
across the manufacturing belt of East Asia is at least 70 percent. The
economic explosion in Asia was, in large part, an outgrowth of the
economic empowerment of women. "They have smaller fingers, so they're
better at stitching," the manager of a purse factory explained to us.
"They're obedient and work harder than men," said the head of a toy
factory."And we can pay them less."
Women are indeed a linchpin of the region's development strategy.
Economists who scrutinized East Asia's success noted a common pattern.
These countries took young women who previously had contributed
negligibly to gross national product (GNP) and injected them into the
formal economy, hugely increasing the labor force. The basic formula was
to ease repression, educate girls as well as boys, give the girls the
freedom to move to the cities and take factory jobs, and then benefit
from a demographic dividend as they delayed marriage and reduced
childbearing.The women meanwhile financed the education of younger
relatives, and saved enough of their pay to boost national savings
rates.This pattern has been called "the girl effect." In a nod to the
female chromosomes, it could also be called "the double X solution."
Evidence has mounted that helping women can be a successful
poverty-fighting strategy anywhere in the world, not just in the booming
economies of East Asia.The Self Employed Women's Association was founded
in India in 1972 and ever since has supported the poorest women in
starting businesses—raising living standards in ways that have
dazzled scholars and foundations. In Bangladesh, Muhammad Yunus
developed microfinance at the Grameen Bank and targeted women
borrowers—eventually winning a Nobel Peace Prize for the economic
and social impact of his work. Another Bangladeshi group, BRAC, the
largest antipoverty organization in the world, worked with the poorest
women to save lives and raise incomes—and Grameen and BRAC made
the aid world increasingly see women not just as potential beneficiaries
of their work, but as agents of it.
In the early 1990s, the United Nations and the World Bank began to
appreciate the potential resource that women and girls represent.
"Investment in girls' education may well be the highest-return
investment available in the developing world," Lawrence Summers wrote
when he was chief economist of the World Bank. "The question is not
whether countries can afford this investment, but whether countries can
afford not to educate more girls." In 2001 the World Bank produced an
influential study, Engendering Development Through Gender Equality in
Rights, Resources, and Voice, arguing that promoting gender equality is
crucial to combat global poverty. UNICEF issued a major report arguing
that gender equality yields a "double dividend" by elevating not only
women but also their children and communities. The United Nations
Development Programme (UNDP) summed up the mounting research this
way:"Women's empowerment helps raise economic productivity and reduce
infant mortality. It contributes to improved health and nutrition. It
increases the chances of education for the next generation."
More and more, the most influential scholars of development and public
health—including Sen and Summers, Joseph Stiglitz, Jeffrey Sachs,
and Dr. Paul Farmer—are calling for much greater attention to
women in development. Private aid groups and foundations have shifted
gears as well."Women are the key to ending hunger in Africa," declared
the Hunger Project. French foreign minister Bernard Kouchner, who
founded Doctors Without Borders, bluntly declared of development:
"Progress is achieved through women." The Center for Global Development
issued a major report explaining "why and how to put girls at the center
of development."CARE is taking women and girls as the centerpiece of its
antipoverty efforts.The Nike Foundation and the NoVo Foundation are both
focusing on building opportunities for girls in the developing world.
"Gender inequality hurts economic growth," Goldman Sachs concluded in a
2008 research report that emphasized how much developing countries could
improve their economic performance by educating girls. Partly as a
result of that research,Goldman Sachs committed $100 million to
a"10,000Women" campaign meant to give that many women a business
education.
Concerns about terrorism after the 9/11 attacks triggered interest in
these issues in an unlikely constituency: the military and
counterterrorism agencies. Some security experts noted that the
countries that nurture terrorists are disproportionally those where
women are marginalized. The reason there are so many Muslim terrorists,
they argued, has little to do with the Koran but a great deal to do with
the lack of robust female participation in the economy and society of
many Islamic countries. As the Pentagon gained a deeper understanding of
counterterrorism, and as it found that dropping bombs often didn't do
much to help, it became increasingly interested in grassroots projects
such as girls' education. Empowering girls, some in the military argued,
would disempower terrorists.When the Joint Chiefs of Staff hold
discussions of girls' education in Pakistan and Afghanistan, as they did
in 2008, you know that gender is a serious topic that fits squarely on
the international affairs agenda.That's evident also in the Council on
Foreign Relations.The wood-paneled halls that have been used for
discussions of MIRV warheads and NATO policy are now employed as well to
host well-attended sessions on maternal mortality.
We will try to lay out an agenda for the world's women focusing
on three particular abuses: sex trafficking and forced prostitution;
gender-based violence, including honor killings and mass rape; and
maternal mortality, which still needlessly claims one woman a minute.We
will lay out solutions such as girls' education and microfinance, which
are working right now.
It's true that there are many injustices in the world, many worthy
causes competing for attention and support, and we all have divided
allegiances.We focus on this topic because, to us, this kind of
oppression feels transcendent—and so does the opportunity.We have
seen that outsiders can truly make a significant difference.
Consider Rath once more.We had been so shaken by her story that we
wanted to locate that brothel in Malaysia, interview its owners, and try
to free the girls still imprisoned there. Unfortunately, we couldn't
determine the brothel's name or address. (Rath didn't know English or
even the Roman alphabet, so she hadn't been able to read signs when she
was there.) When we asked her if she would be willing to return to Kuala
Lumpur and help us find the brothel, she turned ashen. "I don't know,"
she said. "I don't want to face that again." She wavered, talked it over
with her family, and ultimately agreed to go back in the hope of
rescuing her girlfriends.
Rath voyaged back to Kuala Lumpur with the protection of an interpreter
and a local antitrafficking activist. Nonetheless, she trembled in the
red-light districts upon seeing the cheerful neon signs that she
associated with so much pain. But since her escape, Malaysia had been
embarrassed by public criticism about trafficking, so the police had
cracked down on the worst brothels that imprisoned girls against their
will. One of those was Rath's.A modest amount of international scolding
had led a government to take action, resulting in an observable
improvement in the lives of girls at the bottom of the power pyramid.
The outcome underscores that this is a hopeful cause, not a bleak one.
Honor killings, sexual slavery, and genital cutting may seem to Western
readers to be tragic but inevitable in a world far, far away. In much
the same way, slavery was once widely viewed by many decent Europeans
and Americans as a regrettable but ineluctable feature of human life. It
was just one more horror that had existed for thousands of years. But
then in the 1780s a few indignant Britons, led by William Wilberforce,
decided that slavery was so offensive that they had to abolish it. And
they did.Today we see the seed of something similar: a global movement
to emancipate women and girls.
So let us be clear about this up front:We hope to recruit you to join an
incipient movement to emancipate women and fight global poverty by
unlocking women's power as economic catalysts.That is the process under
way—not a drama of victimization but of empowerment, the kind that
transforms bubbly teenage girls from brothel slaves into successful
businesswomen.
This is a story of transformation. It is change that is already taking
place, and change that can accelerate if you'll just open your heart and
join in.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from "Half the Sky"
by Nicholas D. Kristof.
Copyright (C) by Nicholas D. Kristof.
Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.