A Behind The Scenes Look at NightCare in Bangladesh

Written by: Tanya Lasko

My name is Tanya Lasko, and I am the operations manager at Saving Moses. I have been traveling with Sarah, the founder of Saving Moses, on program trips for years. I’ve seen start-up NightCare centers grow into thriving, safe nighttime homes for babies and toddlers.

 

I’d love to share a bit of our last trip to Bangladesh with you…

 

On our first full day on the streets of Daulatdia, everyone I saw was a man. They just stared at our team like we were a rare, endangered species. I found it quite unnerving, and I didn’t know what to do, so I just stopped looking around and kept my eyes on the ground. I was totally out of my element. At breakfast, two men ushered us to the back corner where no one could see us. Maybe it was out of respect, but I felt like it was to keep us out of sight.

 

That afternoon in the city, the first thing that caught my attention was the amount of trash collected near the water’s edge by a group of blue buildings. These blue buildings house the local city daycare.

Around 15 babies peeked through the bars on the windows, waving hello as we walked by. Two nannies were taking care of the criers and the little wild ones. We met so many names and faces that afternoon that I only remembered one: Morjina, one of a few women who worked her way out of the brothel and now works to help the brothel community through NightCare. Inside, the workers had prepared lunch — rice and cucumbers for me (spice and I are not friends). Thankfully, Lauren doesn’t do spicy either, so her plate looks like mine. Meanwhile, Sarah ate everything and raved about it. She is a great guest!

The next morning, we talked with Morjina about her partnership with the government to integrate the brothel and community preschoolers together. The teachers used movement and song, which are helpful aspects to help the little ones learn. After the walkthrough and meetings, Morjina and her team took us for a walk through the community and into the brothel.

Morjina is highly respected in the community, but having a few policemen with us didn’t hurt. The brothel is like a maze of narrow, dead-end paths with rooms and a main path that connects them all together.

It gave me the feeling of being a mouse within a maze.

Very little sunlight and definitely no vegetation grows within this space. Though the space is clean and orderly, the color comes from the women’s exquisite dresses.

I have come to appreciate the humanness of these people who are considered “untouchable” by a pious, patriarchal community that views women as something to be quiet, eyes down, head covered, rather than someone, personable and welcoming.

Morjina shared her story as Sarah asked her questions. There were key differences between the short version of her story — she worked her way out, which sounds like a dream success story to hear — and the reality — painful and traumatic to live through. The women who work here are the daughters of sex workers, not sex workers themselves, and yet the shame I felt as they told me their stories was palpable. It broke my heart! They did nothing wrong, yet this culture brands them as less than. They aren’t offered any redemption or new beginnings — they are fighting to survive, even outside the brothel’s walls.

I hope they felt valued as I interact with them. I hope they felt loved, as I imagine Jesus would love them.

I found myself crying out to the Lord to help them find hope and a way for their future.
Then I looked at the babies and toddlers within those walls that threatened to trap them and limit their potential, and my heart ached for them.

I don’t want to just offer them just safety and meals. Our program needs to be excellent, better than anything else offered in that area. I want them to have the best toys, the best activities, and gentle discipline to set boundaries.

My mind swirled with the words, “The least of these…” My heart swelled with love as I looked into those babies’ eyes and all I could think was that I want to give them the world, whatever that might mean in this poor, simple country. There is still so much to be done and you can be an important part of making their story a one of redemption with a bright, hopeful future.


Tanya Lasko
Program Director, Saving Moses
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