As she speaks, tears moisten her weary eyes. She instinctively raises her hand to wipe them away. I imagine that this young woman, introduced to me as 'Mary', has cried on countless occasions during her young life: a life that could have offered so much but had turned out to provide her with fear and regret.
I meet Mary in the dilapidated surrounds of prison 325 in Tirana, Albania's capital city, where she lives in a cramped room with six other women. However, look beneath the surface and listen carefully to Mary's story and you'll discover that she is much more victim than criminal. It's true: she was sent to prison six months previously for prostitution. But this is far from the full story.
It began when Mary was just 14. She ran away from her family and met a man who took her to Kosova with the promise of marriage. She trusted him. He took her to the city where he said his family was. 'This is when I discovered he had lied to me,' Mary tells me. 'He abused me, putting me in cold, freezing water and beating me. It was awful, I worked for six months on the streets. Then one night, I escaped from him.' She managed to return to Tirana but became desperate for money and turned to prostitution. She has been imprisoned twice. All this, and Mary is just 21.
Tragically, Mary's is not an isolated case. In Albania, thousands of women and girls, and some boys, are illegally traded for exploitation - be that for sex, forced labour or begging - in an act known commonly as human trafficking. It is a growing problem that lurks beneath Albanian society and is rarely spoken about. It rips apart the lives of individuals, families and communities. Scars run deep. How then can this trade be stopped? How might it begin to be tackled?
For six years, social worker Hannah Wilson worked in Albania with BMS World Mission. During that time Hannah and her Albanian colleagues developed a ministry for women like Mary. They recognised the need to support prisoners, including those who had been trafficked, and to give them the chance of a better future. Dozens of women in these prisons are now being equipped with vital life skills through sewing, hairdressing, computer and language classes. Regular Bible studies are held, enabling barriers to be broken down and hurts healed. Some come to faith.
This has been just the beginning. Despite leaving Albania last December and returning to Birmingham, Hannah's commitment to, and passion for, anti-trafficking work continues. In April, she became BMS representative for counter-trafficking and, in a new partnership with the Churches Alert to Sex Trafficking in Europe (CHASTE), has become their project leader for Albania.
Hannah says, 'I've worked with many victims, I've seen people suffer and treated badly, and seen people re-trafficked back into it because they feel they've got nothing else and no other way to survive'. These girls and women believe they are worthless, Hannah says, and this is not helped by the prejudice shown towards them. "I'd love for us to help these women believe in themselves again and reveal Christ to them,' Hannah adds.
She goes on to say: 'What I have noticed in talking with people in churches is that everyone has a story - they know a neighbour, friend or family member who has been trafficked - but it wasn't spoken about. For me, this was an issue that we needed to start talking about'. One of Hannah's colleagues, Sedika Fushekati, who provides support for women leaving prison, says that conversations need to happen directly with the women and relationships must be formed.
