Human Trafficking in Oaxaca, Mexico Part 2

The truck stopped at an isolated farm. Juanito was forcibly taken out and brought by the boss, the same man in a neat suit who had bought him.

—This is my new servant —said the boss, looking at Juanito with disdain—. I will use him for everything.

Juanito was taken to a stable, where they put a harness on him and a heavy load on his back. But soon he realized that the heaviest burden would be the boss himself.

—You will carry with me —said the boss, climbing onto Juanito's back—. You're strong, right?

Juanito felt humiliated and hurt. The weight of the boss was crushing, and his shoulders and back cried out in pain.

—Let's walk! —shouted the boss, hitting Juanito with a whip—. Do not dare to fail me!

Juanito began to walk, with the boss on his back. He felt he was becoming a pack animal, an object without dignity or respect.

—Faster! —shouted the boss—. Don’t slow down!

Juanito quickened his pace, sweating and gasping. His body was exhausted, but his spirit still resisted.

—I am not an animal —he told himself—. I am Juanito. I am a person.

But the reality was cruel. He was a slave, an object to be used and discarded.

Night fell over the farm, and Juanito collapsed in the stable, exhausted and in pain. His fate seemed sealed, but he still held on to the hope of escape, of regaining his freedom and dignity.

After months of forced labor, Juanito had become just another tool of the farm. The boss's children, two youths aged 15 and 17, had begun to take an interest in him.

—Let's play with the slave! —shouted the older one.

Juanito shuddered upon hearing those words. He knew they meant hours of humiliation and pain.

The youths forced him to do ridiculous tricks, like running with a heavy load, jumping like a monkey, or even fighting against them. Juanito felt like a broken toy, devoid of dignity and respect.

—Make him kneel! —shouted the younger one.

Juanito knelt down, feeling the shame and anger swell inside him.

—Make him crawl! —shouted the older one.

Juanito crawled on the ground, feeling the dust and dirt on his face.

The youths laughed, enjoying their power over him. Juanito felt like an object, without soul or heart.

But amid the humiliation, Juanito found moments of resistance. He looked at the youths with disdain, reminding them that he was a person, not a toy.

—I am not an animal —he told himself—. I am Juanito. I am a person.

And with that spark of dignity, Juanito kept going, enduring the pain and humiliation, hoping one day to find freedom.