Kruse's Key: Read "Street Girls: Hope on the Streets of Brazil" and have your heart broken and then inspired

Street Girls is British author/journalist Matt Roper's first of four books highlighting the child-trafficking and child-prostitution problem in Brazil. Rather than an extensive review I've typed out verbatim the contents of one letter from a street girl that Matt worked with through MeninaDanca.  The book is filled with letters like this--heartbreaking tales of young girls--many pushed into prostitution by their families as pre-teens.                                                                                                                                    

My name is Gislaine.  My name used to be Sofia, before I left the streets.  I lived on the streets for many years, since the age of six. I ran away from home because my father used to beat up my mother, and beat me up as well. I became bitter, revolted with my life.  I left my home and went into the world, at just six years old. At first I stayed on the streets of my home town, Governador Valadares, sniffing paint thinner.  

My mother went and found me on the streets, and took me home.  But my father carried on beating me up, so I ran away again.  This time I went to Vitoria. 

 It was a big city, near the sea. I got to know the street kids there, and they taught me how to smoke cannabis. I was seven years old. From there, I took the train to Belo Horizonte.

It was in Belo Horizonte that I began to steal. The other kids egged me on. I used the money to buy food and cannabis. Then I learned how to smoke crack. The first time I smoked crack, I felt on top of the world. But only for the first time.

Smoking crack made me want to steal more and more. Everything for crack. I became completely addicted. I couldn’t stop myself. My life was out of control. I would steal 100, 200, 300 reals a day, and spend it all on crack. Sometimes I would buy clothes for myself, but I could not manage to keep the clothes. I would sell them all and buy crack.

Crack was a big illusion. It made me paranoid, afraid, petrified. When I was smoking it, I would think that the police were coming to get me. After I came down, I would become desperate to smoke more. I would sell anything, my clothes, my shoes, jewellery; whatever I had. After I had sold everything, I would go back into the city to steal. I thought that I would always be like this, that crack would not do me any harm.

Crack did not let me keep my daughter. I walked away from her, because of the drugs. I lost another baby when I was four months pregnant. I smoked drugs, without stopping, in the hot sun. I became ill, and lost my baby.

Never again will I let crack ruin my life, steal my happiness. I will never let my baby go. Only when he gets married. I will keep him close to me until then.

I lost my childhood and my adolescence on the streets. There is nothing good about the streets, nothing at all. If there was, I would still be there today. After I started using crack, my life got worse and worse. I was only interested in smoking and stealing. Nothing else mattered, not even my own flesh and blood.

I want to build a better life for myself. Before, I was always ill, always gasping for air. Now, I feel well. I am breathing and sleeping properly. Before, I would hardly sleep at all. I thank Uncle Matt for all the love he has shown me. He would go into the drug den at Holy Mary and find me, tell me that God could help me. No-one else had the courage to do that. I am sure that, now, things will work out for me.

Read more here:

https://meninadanca.org/

https://www.instagram.com/meninadanca/

https://www.facebook.com/meninadanca/

Matt Roper's Other Books:

Before the Night Comes

Highway to Hell: The Roads Where Childhoods Are Stolen

Remember Me, Rescue Me

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