A real life adventure of a part time journalist, bent on exposing the existence human trafficking and forced prostitution of foreign underage girls.
This article is submitted here due to rejection of a few reputable newspaper and magazine publishers. "We can’t publish this. Makes the cops look bad. We don’t want to provoke them." Said the editor.
"I do." Said, walking out of the door.
By St Angels
Several girls, driven in a black-windowed Toyota van stopped beside a car that is already double parked. They were not going out, until somebody from one of the many doors here signals for them to enter. Their driver, a rugged Chinese man wearing a pair of sunglasses despite the darkening dusk, puffed his cigarette uncaringly, as if he and his friends own the street – and they do. Three minutes later, they all went in to a pink colored open door, never to be seen again tonight.
The Thambipillay Street, a red-light area notoriously infamous for its activities had been on the map of pleasure-seekers in Kuala Lumpur for decades. This area is ‘owned’ by the pimps operating as middlemen for prostitutes in nine prostitution houses along the sixty meters corridors. The street itself is nothing to be curious of. Only a collection of small shops, hotels, Indian restaurant and street peddlers. But prostitution houses are the doors that is most frequented by customers on this street, averaging 70-80 customers per hour at it’s peak time, which is between 9-10pm. Of course, only a small percentage of the customers meant business, but it is a very good industry nevertheless. For the pimps, if the customer is not doing business behind his door, its the next one. They don’t care much for competition – most of the girls and buildings are owned by the same towkeys anyway. As a matter of fact, the red light businesses are in much better shape than legitimate businesses surviving out of the rooms’ customers – convenient stores selling cigarettes and condoms, drink stall, restaurants, almost all of those businesses are sub-consciously dependent on the constant stream of customers coming from or going the one the doors.
Shockingly, one of Malaysia’s most prominent landmark, The KL Sentral Monorail Station stands directly above one of the prostitution house, while other houses are within it’s glorious shadow. Thousands of commuters passed by and over the prostitutes everyday and as a journalist, I cannot help but to wonder – Don’t all these peoples know? Don’t any of these people cares? I could not believe this thriving industry is simply being ignored and denied of their existence – not only by police but by the public?
Published in: Cooking