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IT’S AROUND six p.m., and 15-year-old Ryan is at his favorite hangout: a popular mall in Quezon City. He stands by a rail on the shopping center’s second floor, his hands clasped but his eyes in seeming search of something.
A few minutes later, he is joined by friends who are equally as young, and soon they are chatting and laughing away.
It looks like the beginning of another gimik for Ryan and his friends. Gimik in teeners’ lingo is any leisurely activity that is usually done outside the home. But these teenagers—all dressed in casual but expensive-looking clothing—are not out only for fun tonight.
There is money to be made in this particular outing, and it does not take long for a man to approach Ryan and invite him, ostensibly, to a meal. The boy goes with the stranger. In less than an hour, Ryan is back at the rail, a grin on his face, and an additional P300 in his pockets. By evening’s end, he is likely to have a total haul of between P900 to P1,200.
Ryan is no streetchild, and neither is anyone among his friends. The third year high school student belongs to a family who, while not exactly rich, is by no means so destitute that the boy would have to sell sex to help add to the family income.
Ryan is one among a growing number of teens selling sex in the malls of Metro Manila. But unlike young prostitutes who are lured into the flesh trade by poverty, he represents a new—and troubling—phenomenon: teenage prostitution in urban areas spurred not by financial need but by troubled family lives and increasing materialism.
It is a phenomenon that is causing concern to social workers, nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) and psychologists, who are just beginning to study and understand the problem.
There is no estimate of how many young people are involved in this trade, but anecdotal evidence suggests their number is increasing. “Nagdagsaan (They’re here in droves),” says a security guard at one mall, adding that he has never seen this many teeners out on this kind of gimik yet in his 10 years of service.
He even says that the problem has become so distressing that security guards at the mall where he works have been instructed to make frequent checks at the male restrooms. There are now also signs in the toilets that say: “This is a public CR. Anyone caught in an act of lasciviousness will be apprehended.”
Archie, who says he also turned tricks in high school but has since stopped, agrees that the situation is getting worse. “Malala na talaga (It has become very bad),” says the 19-year-old. He also says many high school students, boys and girls alike, are being lured into prostitution, not so much because they need the money, but because it enables them to indulge in luxuries, as well as provides them kicks.
Noted child psychologist Lourdes Carandang believes prostitution cannot always be blamed on poverty. More than anything else, she says, the most crucial factor behind a child’s involvement in the sex trade is the family, no matter what its economic status is.
This much could also be gleaned from numerous interviews conducted in the last few months by this writer with pre-teens and teeners working the malls as well as NGO workers doing similar research. Carandang herself cites a recent study on child prostitution she and other child experts did. Child sex workers interviewed for the study said they experienced either abuse—physical, sexual, or verbal—in the family or the loss of one or both parents due to death, separation or abandonment.
Still another study, this time by End Child Prostitution, Child Pornography, and the Trafficking of Children for Sexual Purposes (ECPAT Philippines), asserts that children from dysfunctional families appear to be more susceptible to the evil influences in their environment.
These may include sex work, which may be introduced to these children by peers who are already into it, or by adult strangers who lure them into the trade through deception or the promise of easy money.
Archie, for instance, says his first commercial sex encounter was prompted by the thought that the money he would get would enable him to buy a jacket then in vogue. Not that his parents could not afford to buy it for him, he says. But Archie says he simply did not want to be subjected to the usual probing he is sure he would have gotten if he asked his parents for one.
Ryan, though, seems to have gotten into the sex trade because his friends were already doing it. The handsome boy had apparently taken to spending more time with his barkada to escape problems at home. Ryan says his mother has been working in Japan for several years now, leaving his father behind to take care of him and his siblings. But Ryan’s father has been too busy with other women, most of whom he even brings home, to give the children the attention they need and crave for.
Studies show that peer groups often take the place of the kind of family that children like Ryan seek, even if they still live at home. According to the head of an NGO advocating the protection of children rights, most of the teen prostitutes she and other NGO workers have met and observed inside malls are still living with their families. “They go home, they go to school,” she says.
But these teenagers also spend a lot of time with their friends at shopping centers and elsewhere. In its research on child sex workers, Carandang’s group says, “prostituted children have always regarded their friends as providers of emotional and even financial support.”
Ria, whose parents are separated, has even chosen not to live with either her mother or father. Although she can well live with other kin, the college drop-out would rather stay with her friends. “Hinahanap ko ‘yung pagmamahal sa barkada (I look for love in my group of friends),” says Ria, who would not admit to doing sex work, although her friends say otherwise. “Sama-sama kayo, ang sarap (You’re all together, it’s wonderful).”
The study done by Carandang’s group notes that many prostituted children not only spend most or all of their free time with their friends, but often also try to devise ways in which they can stay together longer. Some of these children said in interviews with this writer that that sometimes, an apartment or room where one of them just had sex with a customer becomes their temporary hideout.
To be sure, the mall restrooms are not the only places where the young sex workers perform what they call diskarte or hada. Some are taken to nearby motels or “apartelles,” where their customers sometimes book a room for 12 or 24 hours. But the customers leave shortly after their sexual cravings have been satisfied by their young partners. This means the young sex workers are left with the room for the rest of the paid time, and thus are able to share it with their friends.
Some of the teen sex workers interviewed by the author in Cubao, Quezon City in fact gave the names of the nearby establishments where their clients usually rent rooms. When confronted, however, owners and staff of three of these establishments denied that they accommodate minors in their premises. But a resident of an area where one of these motels is located confirmed seeing minors going inside these places.
Republic Act 7610, otherwise known as the Special Protection Against Child Abuse, Exploitation, and Discrimination Act, expressly forbids any public or private place of accommodation from allowing minors inside their premises. If caught, erring establishments could suffer immediate closure or outright cancellation of their authority or permit to operate.
But whistleblowers for this particular crime are scarce. A police officer who has been with the Police Station 7 in Cubao for the last decade even says that prostitution can be proved only if the sex worker and the customer are caught in the act. He argues that even if a minor is seen with an adult inside a place like a motel or an inn, there is still no ground to apprehend the adult. “What if they were just chatting?” he asks. The officer also insists that child prostitution does not exist in Cubao, only vagrancy.
Chief Inspector Ildebrandi Usana, who heads the Women’s and Children’s Division at the Philippine National Police headquarters in Camp Crame, meanwhile, explains that under RA 7610, minors engaged in sex work cannot be held liable for their actions because the law considers them as the victims. It is the customer of a prostituted child who is accountable to the law, as well as the pimp, if there is one.
Anecdotal evidence indicates that teeners like Ryan often have no need for pimps and “go to business” on their own. But there are nevertheless cases where one member of a barkada takes on the role of the pimp, another as the sex worker and the rest as lookouts. Comments one NGO worker: “Sila-sila ang kumikilos (They do all the tasks themselves).”
That malls have become their choice spot to get picked up by clients is not only because these places are packed with potential customers. Despite the work they do, these prostituted minors are still children, after all, and the malls offer many diversions in air-conditioned comfort. They get to play while they wait for customers, and indeed, many hang out in the video game arcades while others prefer to sit and chat at the food court.
Some, though, stand in front of the movie theatres inside the malls, looking as if they are waiting for a companion. Others simply loiter in the mall premises in search of customers. Although many of these youngsters begin their “stakeout” in the afternoon, after school, there are also some who head for the malls as soon as they open.
More often than not, it is the potential customer who makes the first approach. Idle chitchat is conducted as both parties take stock of each other, and then the client-to-be comes up with some excuse to invite the youngster to accompany him somewhere.
Archie says he was approached by a stranger one time while he was playing his favorite video game, “Streetfighter,” at a mall. The man even played the game with him, recalls Archie, and only began hinting about what he really had in mind after they had finished and Archie had stood up and had begun walking away. But by then, Archie says he had quit doing sex work, and he stopped the stranger from going further with any proposition. “Nahihiya na rin ako sa sarili ko (I was getting ashamed of myself),” says Archie, who is now studying business management.
Archie echoes all the young sex workers interviewed for this report in saying he had hated his first commercial sex outing. But he says he got used to it in time and enjoyed the financial benefits his gimiks gave him.
Archie does not seem surprised at being mistaken for still being “available” when he had long quit. Experience has made him more adept than his “Streetfighter” playmate at spotting which teeners are selling sex at shopping centers around Metro Manila. The management of these malls could probably use this kind of expertise as well. When asked if they were aware of what some teeners were up to inside their malls, they all said no and expressed alarm.
“That’s distressing, if it is true,” said a mall manager in Quezon City. But he also pointed out that because malls are public places, security guards cannot ask just anyone to leave the premises on mere suspicion.
“We can’t just shoo them away without any proof,” he said. “(But) we will definitely put in other measures if we can’t ask them to leave.” One way to do so, said the mall manager, is by instructing their guards to be extra vigilant, especially when making their rounds.
Another mall manager also said he would instruct his guards to discreetly monitor the youth who go to their establishment. A security officer in a mall in Mandaluyong, who claimed he is not privy to such reports, said they would deploy more security guards to each mall. Assuming, he stressed, that the reports are true. This is the same mall, though, which has already posted warning signs in the men’s toilets, and whose security guards have been instructed to tail “suspicious-looking” couples headed for the men’s room and to tell them that the facilities are about to be cleaned.
But ridding the malls of teeners selling sex obviously does not mean that these youngsters would no longer peddle their bodies—only that they would do it elsewhere. Child experts and NGO workers alike say any solution to the problem has to go deeper. They also say much of what these children are looking for lies with their families.
Ana, a winsome 17-year-old who has turned to the flesh trade, herself says, “Kasi feeling ng mga magulang, pera lang ‘yung kailangan namin sa kanila. Diyan sila mali. Pagmamahal ‘yung hanap namin. (Parents feel that money is the only thing we need from them. That’s where they are wrong. It’s love that we need.)”
Ria, who happens to be Ana’s friend, agrees. She says she receives between P9,000 to P10,000 a month from her mother, who is now living abroad. But she says, “Hindi ka man lang kumustahin. Ako rebelde ako, pero tinatanong ko’ng mommy ko, ‘Mommy, kumusta ka na? (She doesn’t even ask how I’m doing. Me, I’m a rebel, but I ask my mommy, ‘Mommy, how are you?’)”
Ria blames her parents for how her life has turned out. Even years after her parents’ separation, she remains bitter toward them, and declares that she will never forget how they tried to make her choose in court between the two of them. But she says she told the judge, “I won’t choose either one. I hate them both!”
Ana, whose parents are also separated, seems to harbor less hatred than Ria toward her own family. But she also thinks her parents have a lot to answer for. Still, she admits receiving a monthly stipend from her mother, who is working overseas “as a professional,” although it is unclear if Ana still goes home regularly.
Ana does say she misses her family, especially her mother, who is due for a short vacation here soon. The teener, who at her young age is already a single mother, says she looks forward to having a reunion in their house in Marikina, one of three residences she says her family has.
Carandang says most of the prostituted children interviewed by her group expressed a wish for a happy family.
“In their hopes, wishes and prayers, (that was) their wish, to go back to a family that can take care of them,” says Carandang. “So you can see here, from the beginning to the end, the family is crucial. Family life is crucial in terms of whether they get into prostitution or not, in terms of what they long and wish for when they’re already into it. (The children’s) most intense feeling is to be taken care of and nurtured.
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