Ellen

This is a story that stays with me, not only in my mind, but in my heart. It is a story that I carry with me every day. For me, it is ultimately about visibility. Not only to make social workers and schools more alert, but also to let young people know that they are not alone.

Living as a prisoner

It was about a young girl who was sent from the Netherlands to Egypt. On the surface, everything seemed fine: she was allowed to finish school and would live with her mother. But behind that façade, she lived like a prisoner, trapped in a house full of relatives who controlled everything — from her shopping to her contact with the outside world. When it became clear that her family was going to marry her off, she was distraught. She didn’t know what to do, but using a secretly obtained phone, she managed to contact her sister in the Netherlands. Together with the LKHA and the embassy, we made an escape plan: in the middle of the night, in silence, we would get her out. But when everything was arranged — the transport, the documents, the flight — she almost didn’t dare to go. The fear of being caught, the fear of putting her mother in danger, was overwhelming. Yet she took the step. When she finally arrived in the Netherlands, there was no liberation. No hug, no celebration. What awaited her was a different kind of loneliness: shelter, mental health issues and a future full of uncertainties. You physically remove someone from a dangerous situation, but the feeling of freedom… that’s something else entirely.

You physically remove someone from a dangerous situation, but the feeling of freedom… that’s something else entirely.

What it did to her

Some stories touch you more deeply than others. They come so close to you that you can’t let them go. Especially the realisation that, as a social worker, I am the only contact for many of these young people, their only anchor in the Netherlands when they are abroad. It seems so simple: sending a text message, asking how they are doing. But for them, that sometimes means everything. It is knowing that someone cares about you, that someone sees you, even if you are far away.
I remember a girl who often asked me practical questions, long after she was safe in the Netherlands. Simple questions, but she didn’t dare ask anyone else. That realisation… that a simple question to me meant everything to her, touched me deeply. You can’t just take someone out of their past. You take someone out of a place, but real healing doesn’t come that easily.
Many young people continue to wonder afterwards: ‘Did I make the right choice? Would it have been better to stay? Would it have been better to listen to my family, to go along with their demands?’ The struggle does not end upon arrival at Schiphol Airport. That pain, that feeling of loss, lingers long afterwards.

Why these stories need to be told

For me, it’s ultimately about visibility. Not only to make social workers and schools more alert, but also to let the young people themselves know that they are not alone. You sometimes think: this happens in distant countries, in poor families, but I have seen it in wealthy families, here in the Netherlands. Sometimes it’s about money. Sometimes it’s about control. But always… always it’s about power. For me, it’s about awareness. Starting the conversation. Asking questions. Not looking away when something doesn’t feel right. Because behind every “move”, behind every forced change of life, there may be a story that we must not ignore. Sometimes… with one extra question, you can save not only a situation, but also a life.