Night Prowlers

There is a very heart breaking reality that hundreds of women live every night – prostitution. These “street walkers” live a life that I can barely understand and could never imagine. Unlike the prostitutes reflected in movies, many of these women are not on drugs but are just trying to earn money for food in one of the only jobs available to them. And unlike the character Julie Roberts played in Pretty Woman these women will not get swept off their feet by a rich guy who wants to offer them a better life.

Last night we went out to eat at the Bamboo Bar. The restaurant was pretty empty – my party of five and three NGO (non-governmental organization) guys having a working dinner two tables over. Then two Liberian ladies walked in and sat down next to the UN table. I watched as they ordered beers but did not drink a sip. After an hour of sitting, facing the UN guys, they finally seemed to realize that the guys were not interested. By this point my friend Sarah asked if I thought they were prostitutes. Normally I would not judge a table of ladies out for the evening in this manor. But after two years in Africa I can spot the signs: going to casual places like a restaurant dressed for a night out on the town, ordering drinks because they are the cheapest item on the menu but not drinking them, and continually looking at the prospective clients to try and catch their attention.

Eventually, after more than an hour, the ladies decided to move on to another table. By now another group of guys had come into the restaurant so they picked up their belongings and beer and walked to the opposite side of our group to sit next to these new guys. We left before them so I do not know if they were successful. But it broke my heart sitting their and watching these ladies do everything reasonably acceptable to catch the attention of these guys. What’s even sadder is that it is a common and accepted reality.

I was told that a popular beach-side restaurant exclusively hires prostitutes as waitresses because of the number of NGO men who frequent that beach and restaurant. And I have been personally approached on a number of occasions by ladies in the business and men looking for ladies in the business.

There is one local hang out in particular that I have had this happen so often that I have refused to go there since October. Below are two of my experiences:

One night a few of us wanted to go out so after trying to get a group together it ended up being four guys and myself. I did not mind since I was comfortable with all of the guys so off we went. After being there for only a few minutes I noticed a number of ladies eyeing the guys in my group, but none of them made a move until we got up to leave. This one group of three ladies walked right up to me and asked if they could join me since I “would not be able to handle all of the guys myself”. They told me to “share with them and introduce them to my dates”. After explaining to them that I was not sleeping with these men and was not a prostitute they went directly to the guys and began catcalling offers and enticing lines. This made all of the guys extremely uncomfortable and we made our way to the taxi as the guys used me as a shield between themselves and the women. This only infuriated them more as they called me selfish and other words not worth repeating.

The other event I will mention is an example of what I have sadly experienced more times than I care to count. On Friday and Saturday nights there is a live band that plays amazing music at this same location. After dancing to a number of songs I headed back to our tables only to be grabbed on my upper arm by a very large, very drunk white man. *I only mention his race because this is one of the well known facts in Liberia – the prostitutes are not supported by the locals but by the white men who come to work in various organizations (in particular the UN).* He proceeded to ask me “how much a night would be?” and even complemented me by saying I was a pretty girl. After quickly snatching my arm back I proceeded to tell him that I was not a prostitute and that he should be ashamed of himself for exploiting such a sad and unsafe activity. I think he was too drunk to listen or remember but I did. The first time this happened I cried. I was appalled that they would mistake me as one of “them”. Eventually I realized that to them I am a black girl surrounded by a group of white people and this conclusion was their most logical thought...

And sadly it is a stereotype that is justly based and not normally incorrect.