>> Hannah Beech, The New York Times
Published: 2019-08-18 01:28:22 BdST
The man said he was her husband — at least that’s what the translation app indicated — and he pressed himself against her. Nyo, a girl from a mountain village in the Shan hills of Myanmar, wasn’t quite sure how pregnancy worked. But it happened.
The baby, 9 days old and downy, looks undeniably Chinese. “Like her father,” Nyo said. “The same lips.”
“Chinese,” she added, like a curse.
China’s “one child” policy has been praised by its leaders for preventing the country’s population from exploding into a Malthusian nightmare. But over 30 years, China was robbed of millions of girls as families used gender-based abortions and other methods to ensure their only child was a boy.
These boys are now men, called bare branches because a shortage of wives could mean death to their family trees. At the height of the gender imbalance in 2004, 121 boys were born in China for every 100 girls, according to Chinese population figures.
To cope, Chinese men have begun importing wives from nearby countries, sometimes by force.
“Bride trafficking is very common here in Shan state,” said Zaw Min Tun, a member of the police anti-human-trafficking task force in Lashio, a town in northern Shan. “But only a few people are really aware of the trafficking.”
A study by the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health and the Kachin Women’s Association Thailand estimated that about 21,000 women and girls from northern Myanmar were forced into marriage in just one province in China from 2013 to 2017.
The father of Nyo, an ethnic Wa girl who became a victim of human trafficking, holds a picture of the accused broker Daw Hnin Wai who has been fleeing at large with a police warrant, in Mong Yal, Myanmar, March 30, 2019. With women far outnumbered by men in China, some Chinese men are importing wives from neighboring countries, and using force to do so. (Minzayar Oo/The New York Times)
After finishing school last year, Nyo and her classmate, Phyu, who are being identified by their nicknames because they are minors, decided they wanted more than what this impoverished army outpost offered.
A neighbor, Daw San Kyi, promised them waitressing jobs on the border with China, through the connections of another villager, Daw Hnin Wai.
Hnin Wai had the nicest home in the village, much fancier than anyone else’s, so the waitressing offer carried weight.
“We trusted them,” Phyu, now 17, said.
Early one morning in July 2018, a van came to Mongyai to pick up the girls. The mountain road made Phyu carsick. San Kyi offered her four pills for her nausea, one pink and three white.
After that, Phyu’s recollection of events is fuzzy. Someone also injected her arm with something, she said. A photo taken of her during that time shows her face puffy and eyes dazed.
“Before this happened, Phyu was so happy and active,” said Daw Aye Oo, her mother. “But they gave her something to make her forget and trigger her sexuality. They beat her. She doesn’t know she is ruined.”
Nyo, also now 17, refused to take any pills. Her memory is clearer but no less confusing. There were stops at guesthouses along the border and a story about the heavy rain closing the restaurant where they were supposed to work. There was a boat ride and more cars.
After more than 10 days in transit, the idea of working in a restaurant receded from their futures, Nyo said. She and Phyu tried to run away twice, but they didn’t know where to go. The traffickers caught them and locked them in a room. Their phones had no signal.
Men who spoke Chinese came to see them. Some pointed at one girl, some at the other.
“I had a sense I was being sold, but I could not escape,” Phyu said.
Neither girl remembers a border crossing, but suddenly they were in China. The girls were split up, each paired with a supposed husband, although no marriage paperwork was ever filled out, to their knowledge. After a long train ride, Phyu thought she had ended up in Beijing. The man who had bought her was Yuan Feng, 21.
The city had lots of bright lights and escalators. “The buildings were so tall that I couldn’t see the tops,” she said.
Baby swaddle-cloths dry outside the house of Nyo, an ethnic Wa girl who became a victim of human trafficking, in Mong Yal, Myanmar, March 30, 2019. With women far outnumbered by men in China, some Chinese men are importing wives from neighboring countries, and using force to do so. (Minzayar Oo/The New York Times)
“I felt numb,” Phyu said. “He smelled sour. He smoked.”
Eventually, she pretended to be happy, Phyu said, and the injections stopped. They went out to a shopping centre, but Yuan followed her everywhere, even to the bathroom. Another time, they went to an amusement park with Yuan’s sister and her young children. He rode the rides. Phyu did not.
Phyu learned some phrases in Mandarin. “‘Bu ku le’ means ‘don’t cry,’ ” she said.
She learned the passcode to her husband’s phone, and when he was drunk at night she called her mother through a social media app.
“I was glad to see her, but she didn’t look like herself,” Aye Oo, her mother, said. “She said, ‘Ma, I’ve been sold.’ ”
Nyo wasn’t sure where she had been taken in China, but she was determined to find out. At first, Gao Ji, her husband, also locked her in a room without any internet. He beat her, Nyo said.
But as the days passed, he began to trust her and allowed her to use social media, including WeChat, the Chinese social media platform.
Gao’s mother, who lived with them, fretted that Nyo was too thin to bear children. She made her foreign daughter-in-law fortifying rice porridge, thick wheat noodles and steamed buns.
“She would always say, ‘chi, chi,’ ” Nyo said, using the Mandarin word for “eat.”
With her phone, Nyo secretly filmed what she could to determine her whereabouts: a drive on the back of Gao’s scooter, the license plate of the family car, the entrance to their two-story house. She geotagged each video and photo.
The place was Xiangcheng County in Henan province. Located on China’s central plains, Henan is one of the country’s most populous provinces, with about 100 million people, double Myanmar’s population.
It turned out that Phyu was in Xiangcheng, too, not Beijing. To girls from an isolated village in Myanmar, Xiangcheng seemed impossibly big.
The house, too, was big, Nyo said, spacious enough that Gao’s parents couldn’t hear when she screamed as he forced himself on her.
“I think he was rich,” she said. “Because otherwise he couldn’t afford to buy a wife and have such a big house.”
In truth, it is poorer Chinese men who tend to buy trafficked women as wives. Still, even they must pay a lot. Nyo was sold for $26,000, said Myo Zaw Win, a police officer in Shan who tracked her case.
Through a Shan woman who has helped rescue girls sold into sexual slavery in China, Myo Zaw Win started corresponding with Nyo on Gao’s WeChat account, pretending to be her brother.
Then the policeman, who had been in communication with Chinese authorities, made his move. Gao had become suspicious and asked who Myo Zaw Win really was. He responded with a single word in English: “Police.”
Two months after the girls arrived in Xiangcheng, the Chinese police knocked on their husbands’ doors.
Yuan and Gao, the girls’ husbands, were detained for at least 30 days, as mandated by the law, said Niu Tianhui, a spokesman for the Xiangcheng police bureau. He said he did not know whether they spent further time in detention.
The girls’ home in Shan state, in the foothills of the Himalayas, has been torn by ethnic warfare for decades. With the Myanmar Army battling various ethnic militias and committing what the United Nations says are war crimes, peace and security are unknown commodities. Women and children are the most vulnerable to abuse.
“Bride trafficking is the consequence of civil war,” said Lauh Khaw Swang, a project manager for the Htoi Gender and Development Foundation in Kachin state, which neighbours Shan and is also embroiled in armed conflict.
San Kyi, the neighbour who the girls say kidnapped them, is now in jail in Lashio. Hnin Wai, the other woman believed to be a local trafficker, is on the run.
As her pregnancy progressed, Nyo decided she would give up the child for adoption. Then her baby was born.
“I wanted to give her away, but I looked at her and I loved her,” Nyo said. “Even with that Chinese animal’s lips.”
c.2019 New York Times News Service