Hunger swept through the people. Gnashing of teeth and sadness filled the air. Whining and wailing could be heard. The dark eyes of little children were sunk in, their ribs visible. The lean men had protruding stomachs and big heads. Some women were heavily pregnant, not knowing who the father was. Blood and tears replaced joy. Chains and shackles replaced love.

If one of us is for sale, none of us is free.

Currently, in Libya, thousands of migrants are being sold in slave markets. These men, women, and children fleeing West Africa in search of food, water, and shelter for their families are being sold while crossing through the country. The migrants are originally from Gambia and Nigeria; they are migrating to Europe. Along the way, they reach northern Libya where they are kidnapped, robbed, raped, murdered, separated, and sold for the price of a Michael Kors purse. Once sold, these people – including children under five years old – are subjected to hard labor and sexual assault. Similar to the experiences hundreds of years ago, they are sold for $150 to $400, less than many dogs in the United States. Amnesty International reports that over 20,000 migrants are being held in Libyan detention centers, and the U.N.’s International Organization for Migration says migrants are living in “slave-trade conditions.” 

Researching this, I found myself in a unique position. I was angry. My heart bled for the innocent victims but, more than that, my mind was enraged. When Paris and Manchester were bombed, Facebook and Instagram timelines were dedicated to posts with images and captions: “Pray for France!” “Our hearts go out to Manchester.” When Texas was flooded we did not sit in silence or turn a blind eye to the horror. We spoke up. We raised our voices. We donated money. We lent a helping hand. 

But now, we sit in solemnity? We make no posts, we do not raise awareness, and we pacify ourselves by saying, “These things happen all the time in places like those. What can you do?” There is no time like the present. Our words and convictions matter more now than they ever will. If you are asking, “What can I do?”, I assure you the question is not rhetorical.

Here is what you can do. Now.

1: Now that you know the facts, share them widely. Use your voice and platform to share the message. Get your friends, family, neighbors,and  co-workers talking about this global crisis.

2: Contact Jonathan Cohen, Acting U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations and demand that the Libyan slave trade become the number one priority for the United Nations (www.us.un.state.gov). Thousands of people have done so already, and we all know that we are powerful in unity.

Your words hold power. Use them to put an end to the Libyan slave trade before it becomes too late.