Delivery of Death: The Shocking Story of the Ranong Human-Trafficking Incident
The story is unthinkable: 121 people, sold into human slavery, were being transported in a small container from Burma into Thailand. Even though they were suffocating and calling the driver for help, their pleas were ignored and the people locked in the container truck were deprived of oxygen. After their frantic pounding caused the truck to swerve, the driver, afraid of being caught by the police, abandoned the group. When the truck was finally discovered, 54 of the 121 people were dead.
The real story doesn't end with the horror of that day; it continues on with corruption, cover-ups and a nation ignoring that human trafficking exists in their country. This book gives a shocking look into the world of human trafficking.
The real story doesn't end with the horror of that day; it continues on with corruption, cover-ups and a nation ignoring that human trafficking exists in their country. This book gives a shocking look into the world of human trafficking.
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Delivery of Death PDF and ePub |
Excerpt
Prologue
Thiry-two year old Ko Hla pulled his nineteen year old girlfriend closer, and managed a brave smile as they surveyed the small compartment of the refrigerated truck. He could feel the girl trembling at his side, her teeth chattering softly as if she had caught a chill, and he instinctively squeezed her tighter. He knew that she was not cold, only apprehensive, as she had been ever since leaving their native Burma to begin this long journey. Now, seeing the actual container of the truck, Ko was feeling anxious himself, although he was careful not to let his girlfriend know.
The truck compartment was tiny; much tinier than he had ever imagined it would be. Ko estimated that it couldn’t measure more than 20 feet in length, and maybe 6 feet in width. Glancing around at the group of people who stood with him, he wondered how they would ever fit. The truck looked like it would have trouble carrying fifty people comfortably, let alone this crowd. Although Ko didn’t know how many people were milling about with him, it certainly appeared to be a lot more than that, maybe even as many as 85 to 100.
The exact number of those about to embark on this passage with Ko Hla was 120, to be precise, and the young man was correct in his thinking. There was absolutely no way they would ever fit comfortably inside this small container.
Ko had not seen the driver of the truck, who would be responsible for transporting them to what they hoped would be good jobs and a better life, but a man and woman who had met them on the pier were there, walking amongst the waiting crowd, hastening them on.
‘Hurry, hurry’, they urged, ‘climb up, get in. Hurry.’
The throng began to move towards the container, and Ko and his girlfriend were pushed along, inching closer and closer to the vehicle, which sat with its engine running. They pulled themselves up into the compartment, and as the rest of the waiting people struggled to climb aboard the two were forced to move further towards the front.
It was pitch black inside the truck box, and as Ko and his girl sat down, people kept coming, squeezing the couple closer and closer together until they were packed like sardines inside the stifling hot compartment.
Soon space in the tiny trailer ran out, and people were forced to sit on top of each other. Ko noticed a woman and child sitting near him, the woman holding the little girl on her lap, trying to soothe her. But no matter how much she cooed to the girl and whispered to her, Ko could see that it wasn’t helping. The child appeared to be absolutely terrified.
After what seemed like an eternity the truck doors finally swung closed, and Ko could feel the vehicle begin to move. It shifted gears and slowly accelerated, rumbling along the invisible street outside.
The inside of the container was cloistered, terrifying in the inky black darkness, and sweltering hot. The sweat began to bead on Ko’s forehead, and then seep out along the flesh of his arms. Soon it was running down his body in rivulets, soaking through his clothing and saturating his hair. It beaded up on the ends of each strand, dripping down into his eyes and creating a burning sensation that he was unable to relieve. The back of the truck was so tightly jammed with people it was nearly impossible for him to raise his hand just to wipe his eyes.
The others crammed into that tiny space were feeling the same way as Ko. Many of them desperately tried to shift position, an endeavor that was not only futile, but one which angered those sitting nearby. Several were beginning to cry, as their inability to do anything about their miserable situation increased their frustration. But it was what Ko heard next that really frightened him.
People were beginning to moan and wheeze, apparently gasping for air and unable to catch their breath. Several were muttering that they couldn’t breathe. The little girl sitting on her mother’s lap was crying and begging for help.
A dim glow began to penetrate the darkness as people lit lighters in a vain attempt to see. In the shadowy light, Ko could barely discern the appalling conditions, and the other anxious faces peering around. But it obvious that they were all in serious trouble, and he wondered how long would it be before panic set in.
In a desperate effort to get help, the people began to bang on the walls of the container, screaming for the truck driver to stop. They yelled and they pounded, using energy they couldn’t afford to spare, but their calls went unheeded.
Although those inside the truck weren’t aware of it, one man in their group had been provided with a cell phone and the number of the driver earlier in the evening. He quickly attempted to call the man, but he was panicked himself, and in the dark he fumbled with the phone, nearly dropping it. Willing himself to calm down, the man finally completed his call and was relieved when the driver answered. Nearly shouting, he begged him to stop the truck, telling him that there was no air inside and they were unable to breathe.
But the vehicle did not stop. It continued on its way, much to the dismay of those inside, and the moaning and gasping continued. And then, suddenly, there was a loud hissing noise, and cool, frosty air began to flow into the trailer. The driver hadn’t stopped, but he had turned on the refrigeration unit, bringing immediate relief and joy to those trapped inside.
Ko said a mental prayer of thanks as he smiled down at his girlfriend. Then, unable to resist, he kissed the top of her head and nuzzled her sopping wet hair. The others inside began to laugh and to shout, delighted, happy, and blissfully unaware that the relief would be only temporary.
Chapter One
Ko Hla and his girlfriend, as well as the others riding in the back of the truck, were from the country of Burma, or Myanmar, a sovereign state in Southeast Asia. Their country had been under military control since 1962, and conditions there were harsh, as well as brutal. Well known for its inhumane treatment against its own people, the government of Burma subjected its citizens not only to horrendous living conditions, but also to genocide, child labor, slavery, repeated rapes of their women, and unbelievable poverty.
As a result of these gross human rights violations, and in an effort to escape them, thousands of Burmese people began to look elsewhere, hoping to find some place that would provide a better future for them. Between 1962, and 1988 a slow trickle of Burmese citizens migrated to other countries to start a new life.
But in 1988, when the Burmese Socialist Regime collapsed, it left its people out of work, destitute, and with no way to feed their families. In an effort to survive, millions more from the country of Myanmar were forced to flee, leaving all their worldly possessions to seek work elsewhere.
Although Burma is bordered by five different countries, Thailand, China, Laos, India, and Bangladesh, it was to Thailand that the majority of the Burmese people fled. The country was close by and reminiscent of home, and the border between Burma and Thailand was the Kra Buri River, making passage between the two countries easy. But more importantly, Thailand offered greater opportunities than Burma’s others neighbors.
Many of these Burmese migrants entered Thailand in the city of Ranong, a small fishing port that bordered the Kra Buri River. Ranong was a center for the fishing and seafood industries, and in the year 2008, it had a population of 300,000. Nearly half of the city’s residents were made up of Burmese migrants.
These migrants had come to Thailand hoping to find work and make a better life for themselves, and fortunately, for some, they would realize that dream. But for many others, the dream would quickly turn into a nightmare.
**********
The government of Thailand, like most countries, was not receptive to welcoming millions of illegal immigrants crossing their borders. But unlike many other countries, Thailand had a great need for these alien bodies, and they knew it. The southern part of the country, with its beautiful beaches and balmy climate, was quickly becoming a major tourist destination, and growth in the area was rapid. And, as with any advancement, help was desperately needed.
There were jobs open for everyone; construction workers to build high rise hotels, and maids to clean them. People to work in the fish industry and on agricultural farms, ensuring there was enough food available to feed those who came to vacation. And of course women, young, sultry and sexy females, to pleasure those lonely souls who traveled there.
There was so much work in fact that the country couldn’t provide enough manpower to fill the need. More and more often, the Thais would turn to migrants, both legal and illegal, to satisfy the demand. The migrants were hard working, discreet, and extremely cheap labor.
In December of 2004, when Thailand was hit by the great tsunami that resulted from the Indian Ocean earthquake, the southern part of the country was left in ruins. In the small resort areas around Ranong and Phuket, nearly 2600 people were killed, and the devastation was vast. Thailand desperately needed workers to re-build, and the Burmese migrants were eager to fill this need.
But without the Thai Government allowing them to legally enter the country, the people of Myanmar had no way to get in. Desperate to work and have money to feed their families, the majority of them were forced to turn to migrant brokers; men and women who offered to smuggle them into the country for a fee. To many of these desperate Burmese souls, finding a job broker seemed like a godsend. But in reality, it was not.
**********
Whenever desperate circumstances arise, evil and greedy people are right there to seize the opportunity. They make their living preying on the vulnerabilities and desperate hopes of troubled and worried individuals, and the job brokers that many Burmese people turned to were no exception.
Migrant brokering is organized crime at its worst. A huge business, it generates millions of dollars in profit each year, and destroys just as many lives. It begins with the broker collecting a hefty fee, anywhere from 6,000 to 12,000 baht, (the equivalent of $180 to $360 U.S. dollars), to smuggle the illegal immigrant out of the country and secure him a job.
Since it was obvious that the typical migrant could never come up with that kind of money before he left the country, it was common for an arrangement to be agreed upon whereby the migrant would pay off his debt to the broker in installments. It seemed like the perfect arrangement, except that once the migrants were inside Thailand and working, they were quick to discover that they had blindly dug themselves into a hole they could never get out of.
Like others who desperately want something, and will agree to just about anything to get it, the migrants too rarely thought about the consequences of what they were agreeing to. They didn’t consider the fact that they would be paid far less than the Thai natives, nor did they ever contemplate the price they were paying for their freedom. A broker’s fee could be as high as 12,000 baht per person. For a lone migrant, this could take years to pay off, but for a family, with two or four children, the debt could last a lifetime.
But it was not only the broker that the migrant owed fees to, the police and military demanded a share of his wages as well. If the migrant didn’t want to face criminal charges as an illegal alien, spend time in prison, be ordered to pay a fine, and then be deported back to his native country, he would have to pay.
Too late, many of those who came into the country illegally quickly realized that often their living conditions here were worse than they had been at home. After all the payouts, there was no money left to buy decent food, clothing or medical care.
The Burmese migrants also found that working conditions could be extremely harsh. For example, those who took jobs on a fishing vessel found that they were out to sea for thirty to forty days at a stretch, with only a three to five day respite in port. For this work, the migrant would be paid 3,000 to 6,000 baht per month, ($90 to $180 US dollars), while the Thai doing the same job on the same boat was paid double that. When he finally did get a few days off at home, he was too tired to spend it with his family, finding that he slept most of the time before returning to the ship.
Those migrants who went to work on farms found their working conditions pretty much the same as those on the fishing vessels. They worked long days, in sweltering heat, for very little money. The only exception was that they were allowed to be home each night.
Even worse than the fishing and farming industries were those who took jobs in factories. These migrants found themselves working in sweatshops, toiling from 12 to 14 hours each day for little more than $50 to $75 dollars a month.
There was another routine in their new country that greatly upset the immigrants; the practice of their new employers to confiscate their passports. Ordered to release them upon being hired, this action made it impossible for the migrants to quit their jobs, or leave the country, even if they wanted to.
After only a few weeks in their new home, many of those who had come seeking a brighter future found themselves saddled with debt, living in a foreign country, and missing the one thing that could get them home; their passports.
For Ko Hla and all the others riding in the small container of that miserable seafood truck, the chance that they were heading into this very same situation, although not thought about by them, was a distinct possibility.
Thiry-two year old Ko Hla pulled his nineteen year old girlfriend closer, and managed a brave smile as they surveyed the small compartment of the refrigerated truck. He could feel the girl trembling at his side, her teeth chattering softly as if she had caught a chill, and he instinctively squeezed her tighter. He knew that she was not cold, only apprehensive, as she had been ever since leaving their native Burma to begin this long journey. Now, seeing the actual container of the truck, Ko was feeling anxious himself, although he was careful not to let his girlfriend know.
The truck compartment was tiny; much tinier than he had ever imagined it would be. Ko estimated that it couldn’t measure more than 20 feet in length, and maybe 6 feet in width. Glancing around at the group of people who stood with him, he wondered how they would ever fit. The truck looked like it would have trouble carrying fifty people comfortably, let alone this crowd. Although Ko didn’t know how many people were milling about with him, it certainly appeared to be a lot more than that, maybe even as many as 85 to 100.
The exact number of those about to embark on this passage with Ko Hla was 120, to be precise, and the young man was correct in his thinking. There was absolutely no way they would ever fit comfortably inside this small container.
Ko had not seen the driver of the truck, who would be responsible for transporting them to what they hoped would be good jobs and a better life, but a man and woman who had met them on the pier were there, walking amongst the waiting crowd, hastening them on.
‘Hurry, hurry’, they urged, ‘climb up, get in. Hurry.’
The throng began to move towards the container, and Ko and his girlfriend were pushed along, inching closer and closer to the vehicle, which sat with its engine running. They pulled themselves up into the compartment, and as the rest of the waiting people struggled to climb aboard the two were forced to move further towards the front.
It was pitch black inside the truck box, and as Ko and his girl sat down, people kept coming, squeezing the couple closer and closer together until they were packed like sardines inside the stifling hot compartment.
Soon space in the tiny trailer ran out, and people were forced to sit on top of each other. Ko noticed a woman and child sitting near him, the woman holding the little girl on her lap, trying to soothe her. But no matter how much she cooed to the girl and whispered to her, Ko could see that it wasn’t helping. The child appeared to be absolutely terrified.
After what seemed like an eternity the truck doors finally swung closed, and Ko could feel the vehicle begin to move. It shifted gears and slowly accelerated, rumbling along the invisible street outside.
The inside of the container was cloistered, terrifying in the inky black darkness, and sweltering hot. The sweat began to bead on Ko’s forehead, and then seep out along the flesh of his arms. Soon it was running down his body in rivulets, soaking through his clothing and saturating his hair. It beaded up on the ends of each strand, dripping down into his eyes and creating a burning sensation that he was unable to relieve. The back of the truck was so tightly jammed with people it was nearly impossible for him to raise his hand just to wipe his eyes.
The others crammed into that tiny space were feeling the same way as Ko. Many of them desperately tried to shift position, an endeavor that was not only futile, but one which angered those sitting nearby. Several were beginning to cry, as their inability to do anything about their miserable situation increased their frustration. But it was what Ko heard next that really frightened him.
People were beginning to moan and wheeze, apparently gasping for air and unable to catch their breath. Several were muttering that they couldn’t breathe. The little girl sitting on her mother’s lap was crying and begging for help.
A dim glow began to penetrate the darkness as people lit lighters in a vain attempt to see. In the shadowy light, Ko could barely discern the appalling conditions, and the other anxious faces peering around. But it obvious that they were all in serious trouble, and he wondered how long would it be before panic set in.
In a desperate effort to get help, the people began to bang on the walls of the container, screaming for the truck driver to stop. They yelled and they pounded, using energy they couldn’t afford to spare, but their calls went unheeded.
Although those inside the truck weren’t aware of it, one man in their group had been provided with a cell phone and the number of the driver earlier in the evening. He quickly attempted to call the man, but he was panicked himself, and in the dark he fumbled with the phone, nearly dropping it. Willing himself to calm down, the man finally completed his call and was relieved when the driver answered. Nearly shouting, he begged him to stop the truck, telling him that there was no air inside and they were unable to breathe.
But the vehicle did not stop. It continued on its way, much to the dismay of those inside, and the moaning and gasping continued. And then, suddenly, there was a loud hissing noise, and cool, frosty air began to flow into the trailer. The driver hadn’t stopped, but he had turned on the refrigeration unit, bringing immediate relief and joy to those trapped inside.
Ko said a mental prayer of thanks as he smiled down at his girlfriend. Then, unable to resist, he kissed the top of her head and nuzzled her sopping wet hair. The others inside began to laugh and to shout, delighted, happy, and blissfully unaware that the relief would be only temporary.
Chapter One
Ko Hla and his girlfriend, as well as the others riding in the back of the truck, were from the country of Burma, or Myanmar, a sovereign state in Southeast Asia. Their country had been under military control since 1962, and conditions there were harsh, as well as brutal. Well known for its inhumane treatment against its own people, the government of Burma subjected its citizens not only to horrendous living conditions, but also to genocide, child labor, slavery, repeated rapes of their women, and unbelievable poverty.
As a result of these gross human rights violations, and in an effort to escape them, thousands of Burmese people began to look elsewhere, hoping to find some place that would provide a better future for them. Between 1962, and 1988 a slow trickle of Burmese citizens migrated to other countries to start a new life.
But in 1988, when the Burmese Socialist Regime collapsed, it left its people out of work, destitute, and with no way to feed their families. In an effort to survive, millions more from the country of Myanmar were forced to flee, leaving all their worldly possessions to seek work elsewhere.
Although Burma is bordered by five different countries, Thailand, China, Laos, India, and Bangladesh, it was to Thailand that the majority of the Burmese people fled. The country was close by and reminiscent of home, and the border between Burma and Thailand was the Kra Buri River, making passage between the two countries easy. But more importantly, Thailand offered greater opportunities than Burma’s others neighbors.
Many of these Burmese migrants entered Thailand in the city of Ranong, a small fishing port that bordered the Kra Buri River. Ranong was a center for the fishing and seafood industries, and in the year 2008, it had a population of 300,000. Nearly half of the city’s residents were made up of Burmese migrants.
These migrants had come to Thailand hoping to find work and make a better life for themselves, and fortunately, for some, they would realize that dream. But for many others, the dream would quickly turn into a nightmare.
**********
The government of Thailand, like most countries, was not receptive to welcoming millions of illegal immigrants crossing their borders. But unlike many other countries, Thailand had a great need for these alien bodies, and they knew it. The southern part of the country, with its beautiful beaches and balmy climate, was quickly becoming a major tourist destination, and growth in the area was rapid. And, as with any advancement, help was desperately needed.
There were jobs open for everyone; construction workers to build high rise hotels, and maids to clean them. People to work in the fish industry and on agricultural farms, ensuring there was enough food available to feed those who came to vacation. And of course women, young, sultry and sexy females, to pleasure those lonely souls who traveled there.
There was so much work in fact that the country couldn’t provide enough manpower to fill the need. More and more often, the Thais would turn to migrants, both legal and illegal, to satisfy the demand. The migrants were hard working, discreet, and extremely cheap labor.
In December of 2004, when Thailand was hit by the great tsunami that resulted from the Indian Ocean earthquake, the southern part of the country was left in ruins. In the small resort areas around Ranong and Phuket, nearly 2600 people were killed, and the devastation was vast. Thailand desperately needed workers to re-build, and the Burmese migrants were eager to fill this need.
But without the Thai Government allowing them to legally enter the country, the people of Myanmar had no way to get in. Desperate to work and have money to feed their families, the majority of them were forced to turn to migrant brokers; men and women who offered to smuggle them into the country for a fee. To many of these desperate Burmese souls, finding a job broker seemed like a godsend. But in reality, it was not.
**********
Whenever desperate circumstances arise, evil and greedy people are right there to seize the opportunity. They make their living preying on the vulnerabilities and desperate hopes of troubled and worried individuals, and the job brokers that many Burmese people turned to were no exception.
Migrant brokering is organized crime at its worst. A huge business, it generates millions of dollars in profit each year, and destroys just as many lives. It begins with the broker collecting a hefty fee, anywhere from 6,000 to 12,000 baht, (the equivalent of $180 to $360 U.S. dollars), to smuggle the illegal immigrant out of the country and secure him a job.
Since it was obvious that the typical migrant could never come up with that kind of money before he left the country, it was common for an arrangement to be agreed upon whereby the migrant would pay off his debt to the broker in installments. It seemed like the perfect arrangement, except that once the migrants were inside Thailand and working, they were quick to discover that they had blindly dug themselves into a hole they could never get out of.
Like others who desperately want something, and will agree to just about anything to get it, the migrants too rarely thought about the consequences of what they were agreeing to. They didn’t consider the fact that they would be paid far less than the Thai natives, nor did they ever contemplate the price they were paying for their freedom. A broker’s fee could be as high as 12,000 baht per person. For a lone migrant, this could take years to pay off, but for a family, with two or four children, the debt could last a lifetime.
But it was not only the broker that the migrant owed fees to, the police and military demanded a share of his wages as well. If the migrant didn’t want to face criminal charges as an illegal alien, spend time in prison, be ordered to pay a fine, and then be deported back to his native country, he would have to pay.
Too late, many of those who came into the country illegally quickly realized that often their living conditions here were worse than they had been at home. After all the payouts, there was no money left to buy decent food, clothing or medical care.
The Burmese migrants also found that working conditions could be extremely harsh. For example, those who took jobs on a fishing vessel found that they were out to sea for thirty to forty days at a stretch, with only a three to five day respite in port. For this work, the migrant would be paid 3,000 to 6,000 baht per month, ($90 to $180 US dollars), while the Thai doing the same job on the same boat was paid double that. When he finally did get a few days off at home, he was too tired to spend it with his family, finding that he slept most of the time before returning to the ship.
Those migrants who went to work on farms found their working conditions pretty much the same as those on the fishing vessels. They worked long days, in sweltering heat, for very little money. The only exception was that they were allowed to be home each night.
Even worse than the fishing and farming industries were those who took jobs in factories. These migrants found themselves working in sweatshops, toiling from 12 to 14 hours each day for little more than $50 to $75 dollars a month.
There was another routine in their new country that greatly upset the immigrants; the practice of their new employers to confiscate their passports. Ordered to release them upon being hired, this action made it impossible for the migrants to quit their jobs, or leave the country, even if they wanted to.
After only a few weeks in their new home, many of those who had come seeking a brighter future found themselves saddled with debt, living in a foreign country, and missing the one thing that could get them home; their passports.
For Ko Hla and all the others riding in the small container of that miserable seafood truck, the chance that they were heading into this very same situation, although not thought about by them, was a distinct possibility.
