Ring the Bells! A Beza Threads Battle Cry
Walking down the alleyways of Markato - the largest open air district in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia where 150,000 girls are exploited and sold multiple times a night - I fought against every urge in my body that screamed to grab a girl and run away from that alley way horror.
In my mind - I would hold her tight whispering “you’re safe”, “it’s over now”, and “you’ll never have to go back” until she, too could believe it to be true.
Pimps stand by on the corner or patrol the streets making sure the girls are “working” because they only care about their own payout.
I wanted to smack them upside the head, twist their ear, give them a good “what-for”.
“Use your skills for GOOD - stop hurting people for your twisted benefit”, I tried to yell at them from inside my own head.
The didn’t hear me. Or they didn’t listen.
Instead, in groups of three - we held tight to one another, gripping the hands of our trusted friends and protectors, one foot in front of the other.
Faces mostly cast down, avoiding direct eye contact, but still trying to take it all in being as inconspicuous as 6 white young women at midnight in the largest outdoor district in Ethiopia would allow.
I’d glance up every other step or so - absorbing the sheer number of girls lined up in front of a never ending row of doors.
A quick peek through an open door into a space barely large enough for a crib sized mattress on the dirt floor with a toddler potty chair in the corner.
The hollow, empty eyes nearly stopped me in my tracks if it weren’t for the human linking arms with me dragging me forward.
Afterwards, the van ride back to our hotel was silent. Yet our collective thoughts were deafening.
Our group gathered in one room, sitting at various spots on beds, the floor, a chair.. we weren’t ready to be alone yet .
And none of us would be falling asleep anytime soon.
We took a few more moments to sit in the discomfort of our thoughts - the privilege of a safe place to do so was not lost on us.
.
.
As we were sitting in that hotel room trying to process what we just saw, what we briefly experienced as bystanders… I couldn’t.
I couldn’t sort the thoughts.
I couldn’t process the information.
My brain had no clue what to do with any of it.
Various versions of “how”, and “why”, and “what in the actual world” were rolling in my head with no clear direction.
…How is this real?
…How much more broken can the world become?
…How do the pimps get away with it?
…How dare they?!
…Why is there such a place?
…Why are people so cruel?
…What in the world is happening?
I was lost in my own thoughts and the brokenness of this world.
And then…a song started playing I’d never heard before.
“Ring the bells this time I mean it,
Give back the pieces of my Jesus,
take your counterfeit to hell.”
As the words started washing over me, I felt the dam of tears release.
My body knew what this song meant before I’d even heard it.
“Bang the drums this means war
And not the kind you’re waiting for.
We say mercy won’t be rationed here
That’s what we’re fighting for.”
A battle cry for justice and mercy.
Compassion and hope.
The song goes on to say…
“I’ve got faith to move a mountain
And to watch that mountain move
It's time for words to fall like thunder
Time for justice breaking through.”
When things feel so out of control, we are never alone. We don’t have to do it all - even more, we can’t.
But we can take the tiniest amount of faith and watch the mountain move.
“If we can’t sing it loud enough
We’ll keep on adding voices up.
In the midst of my hopelessness, I found a tiny seed of hope.
A reminder that I’m not alone in this journey of action.
A call to add my voice to the chorus of others looking for hope and acting in faith.
As the song ended, I drew a shaky breath.
All the more fired up - no longer suffocating in despair and helplessness.
.
.
As a group we sat there for hours. Hooouuurrrs.
Well into the night processing through our collective hows and whats and whys.
The next morning - although absolutely exhausted - we woke with a renewed and deeper appreciation for our work.
This particular trip to Ethiopia lined up with the start of a new program year, meaning we could have seen any of these girls standing by a door in an alleyway just weeks prior.
In fact, one of the girls escaped her pimp days before our arrival in country.
These girls were fresh and fragile on their journey of healing.
With this renewed perspective we gave extra care to hold safe and sacred space for our friends.
We took every opportunity of our remaining time to love on them however we could.
It was a tearful 45-min on the corner near our hotel when we eventually had to say goodbye to these girls whom we felt bonded to for life.
We were there to help change their lives by supporting the program that helped them to escape exploitation.
In reality - they changed our lives just as much.
There are over 150,000 girls exploited and trafficked every single night in that same district we visited.
That number can be overwhelming and overpowering if we let it.
(And that number is well above 200,000 now five years later…)
But we can’t.
We can’t let it.
If i could have grabbed one girl by the hand and taken her with me that night - it would have been enough for her. It would have mattered to her.
And so we do what we can, with what we have, where we’re at.
Sometimes that’s hugging survivors on the ground in Ethiopia, holding a safe place for their healing.
Most of the time it’s fighting the fight stateside.
Selling leather goods to fund the rescue of girls trapped in human trafficking.
Sharing first-hand experiences of the impact it makes.
Teaching our kids how to see injustice around them and what options for actions are available.
Connecting with our team in Ethiopia - supporting their needs from afar.
Inviting friends into the mission and purpose alongside us - adding voices up.
Our work, it isn’t done. So we keep going.
That’s why I’m here. That’s why you’re here.
Adding voices up….Ring the bells.
-Breanna-
Beza Threads
EPILOGUE
10 months later, I found myself in Ethiopia once again visiting our partner team.
This trip aligned with graduation.
The girls did it - they did the hard work mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and technically.
They took tests to be certified by the government in their field of choice (leather working, food preparation, sewing, and hairdressing.) They had saving accounts to start the next phase of their life, and every single student had job placements to work in spaces with dignity and autonomy, while earning a living wage.
We had much to celebrate - including finalizing some new leather products for Beza Threads.
Standing in the workroom one afternoon, there was only one song to play...
It was a full circle moment…No mercy was rationed, justice broke through, and faith moved mountains.
And so we continued on, making leather and “raising voices up” for our cause.
P.S. That first trip to Ethiopia cemented me as a forever fan of Johnnyswim + DrewHolcomb and the Neighbors. Check out their music - and if you happen to know them, please forward them this post. Their music has a direct impact on the world changing work we do every single day.
We heard their battle cry, we add our own voices, and we ring the bells.
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