BY TAFADZWA MWANENGURENI
CHIEDZA was trafficked and enslaved to perpetrate online scams in Myanmar. Returning home was her second nightmare.
Four months have passed since Chiedza (a pseudonym), 33, returned to Zimbabwe from Myanmar, where she was a victim of human trafficking, but her trauma remains raw.
Like thousands of Zimbabweans driven by economic hardship, this single mother of two migrated to Southeast Asia in November 2024, believing she had found a job in Thailand, but ended up in the hands of a criminal network in Myanmar.
They confiscated her passport to prevent her escape and forced her to run online scams in Shwe Kokko, a city known for its high concentration of such crimes.
More than 300,000 people worldwide have been trafficked and exploited to work as cybercriminals in Southeast Asia, according to a recent United Nations report.
The majority of survivors are from Asia and Africa.
Chiedza, who had worked as a barista for 10 years, decided to migrate after a close friend convinced her to apply for a sales position at an electronics store in Thailand.
In a single day, she received an acceptance letter and a contract via WhatsApp.
“The document I received was in English and Chinese, and they told me I would sign it upon arrival,” she recalls in a telephone interview with EL PAÍS.
But her journey took a turn when her route was unexpectedly diverted to Myanmar. It was then that she realized she was being trafficked. There, she was given a contract written only in Chinese.
“I was assigned to lure wealthy people using fake accounts on social media and dating sites, gather all the necessary information, and convince them to invest in cryptocurrencies linked to our employer’s account,” she says. Chiedza’s employer confiscated her phone and passport and locked her in a dark room for days.
In Myanmar alone, there are approximately 120,000 trafficking victims forced to carry out online scams, according to “credible sources” cited in a 2023 report by the Office of the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights. The annual profits from these operations are estimated at around $64 billion (approximately €54 billion).
Although there are no precise figures on the number of Zimbabwean women who fall into trafficking networks or what jobs they are forced into, hundreds of survivors are being assisted by NGOs. The Centre for Combating Human Trafficking (CCHT), which works in Zimbabwe, alone has helped more than 1,000 people since 2017.
“Recruitment debt”
Chiedza initially rejected the offer. But her employer demanded payment of a “recruitment debt” of $210,000 (about €179,000). Up until that point, she hadn’t paid anything for the paperwork and didn’t know she would have to pay that amount.
Her sister, from Zimbabwe, took out a loan and hastily scraped together the money in a week so she could return. However, the employer refused to pay and insisted she work for him.
She recalls how he threatened her with a stun gun after a week and asked if she was ready to work. “He offered me three options: work for him, sell myself into prostitution, or to a company that extracts body parts,” she recounts.
“To save my life, I chose to work for him.” Chiedza thus became one of 150 Africans between the ages of 18 and 35 held captive at a compound in Shwe Kokko and forced into the scam.
Deep down, the woman still hoped this was a way to earn more money and send it to her family. In Zimbabwe, 42% of the population lives in extreme poverty, meaning they cannot afford a basic food basket, according to the most recent World Bank data.
That’s why people like Chiedza seek opportunities abroad. Of the more than 372,000 women who emigrated in 2022, 75% did so to look for work, according to the latest national census.
The International Organization for Migration (IOM) advises those seeking employment abroad to be alert to warning signs such as the withholding of identity documents, pressure to accept job offers quickly, or to sign contracts in languages the employee does not understand.
“In various contexts where restrictive labor sponsorship systems exist, employment policies can increase the risk of trafficking, as they tie a worker’s legal status to their employer, limiting mobility and the ability to leave abusive situations,” explains Fadzai Nyamande-Pangeti, IOM’s senior media and communications associate in Zimbabwe.
In most cases, women like Chiedza are vulnerable and become trapped in these practices, especially in countries in the Middle East and Asia. UN data indicates that 47% of victims were unemployed at the time they were recruited.
Awaiting repatriation
Chiedza says she worked for almost a year without pay before being rescued in late 2025 by the Myanmar military, which was investigating trafficking cases at the compound. “I raised my hand when they asked if anyone had been forced to work.
Then they took me to the detention center where other survivors were gathered waiting to return to their countries,” she says.
After the rescue, she contacted the Zimbabwean Embassy. But, according to her, the officials only issued travel documents.
“They told me they were trying to get help from the government to buy the tickets, but that it was going to take time and that if we had any other options, we could try to use them.”
According to her account, after three months she had received no response. However, during that time she witnessed other countries providing support to their citizens and organizing flights for their return, while Zimbabweans remained stranded.
“We ended up eating dogs because of hunger,” she recounts. “Even if we got sick, we couldn’t get medication from our embassy.”
Human trafficking expert Gerald Shirichena explains that Zimbabwe faces several systemic and operational limitations that hinder the government’s ability to effectively repatriate survivors, primarily due to a lack of financial resources.
“Repatriation requires airfare, travel documents, escorts, accommodation, and reintegration support; however, Zimbabwe typically operates under very strict fiscal constraints and with limited, if any, emergency funds for rescues,” the expert explains by phone. He asserts that the national budget does not specify how much has been allocated to rescue funds.
In the end, Chiedza turned to the internet to seek financial assistance from compassionate individuals to enable her to return home.
A sponsor in the United States paid for her ticket. Now, she is slowly rebuilding her life while continuing to raise funds to help other survivors. “I secured sponsors for three of them, and they returned home on February 24,” she says.
Tadiwa Christian Marengo, head of programs and fundraising at the Centre to Combat Trafficking in Persons (CCHT), warns that delayed repatriation exposes survivors to greater risks.
“Victims of human trafficking often face the risk of being re-trafficked if repatriation is delayed. Some survivors, especially women, may suffer stigmatization and be unable to reunite with their families, as they could be labeled as prostitutes,” Marengo explains.
The most recent U.S. State Department report on Zimbabwe , which includes a section on human trafficking, concluded that the African nation “does not fully meet the minimum standards for the elimination of trafficking.”
It points to deficiencies in legislation, funding, and data collection. Several experts have called for urgent reforms to the country’s Trafficking in Persons Act to strengthen victim-centered approaches, institutional accountability, gender- and child-sensitive procedures, and harmonization with international instruments.
Jessie Majome, former chair of the Zimbabwe Human Rights Commission, asserts that the amendment will need to “include provisions on victim rehabilitation, compensation, psychosocial support, and effective enforcement.”
She adds that the Zimbabwean government should “enforce regulations on labor recruitment firms and hold fraudulent recruiters criminally liable with strict prison sentences.”
The IOM spokesperson echoed Majome’s call for the firm prosecution of traffickers and improved protection and rehabilitation for survivors.
“It is necessary to expand the mapping and coordination of service providers, increase resources for shelters and specialized care, and strengthen follow-up to prevent revictimization and support sustainable reintegration,” she noted.
This article was originally published by El Pais in Spanish
