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Elder Sim
Living in a cramped concrete house in the heart of Liberia’s sweltering capital, 8-year-old Famatta Massalay always dreamed of seeing snow.
One day, her mother told her she was about to get her chance.
But first, “we have to play a game,” Massalay’s mother said.
The mom taught the girl how to write a name that wasn’t hers and to tell authorities she was 10, not 8. Then she took her daughter to the immigration office in Monrovia to get a visa.
Soon after, on a stifling January afternoon in 1978, Massalay set off for JFK Airport for what she was told would be the adventure of a lifetime — the chance to see New York City blanketed in a perfect swirl of white.
The child wore a freshly sewn bell-bottom pantsuit and no coat and carried a small suitcase as she kissed her parents goodbye and waved to them from the stairs leading to the plane.
“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Massalay recalls telling them, confused by the tears pouring down her father’s face.
It was the last time she ever saw them.
Shortly after her arrival in New York City, the girl’s exciting journey became a waking nightmare. Massalay learned she had been sold into the modern-day slave trade as a “house girl.” She would be trapped in domestic servitude for the next six years — cooking, cleaning and caring for strangers while being beaten, forced to sleep in a bathtub and raped, giving birth on the day she celebrated her 14th birthday.
Massalay believes her parents were duped into paying a family to take her to the US, thinking their daughter would be provided safety and an education they could never give her.
It turned out the other family was part of a labor-trafficking network.
“I remember spending hours and days crying, just praying, ‘God, come get me. When are you going to come get me?’ ” Massalay told The Post.
Now, 40 years later, the dark clouds behind her eyes are nearly impossible to discern. Massalay is of one of the city Department of Education’s brightest stars, starting her 23rd year with the agency. She has worked as a substance abuse counselor and high school teacher in Brooklyn, this year teaching history and English at the Academy for College Preparation and Career Exploration in East Flatbush.
She says she wants to share her story to raise awareness about modern-day slavery. There are about 14.2 million people currently trapped in forced labor across the globe, with hundreds in New York, according to the Polaris Project, a nonprofit that runs a national hotline for trafficking victims with assistance from the federal government.
Massalay also has another, equally important message — hope.
“I tell my students all the time, when you learn something, you have to teach someone else what you learn — you have to always pay it forward because that’s what’s going to propel this world to evolve,” said Massalay, 48.
“There is a kid, just like me, in this city right now, and that kid needs to know . . . ‘You don’t have to take this. And we can give you information to leave today.’ ”
Massalay says her saga began when her mother, Selena, a teacher at a Monrovia primary school, was persuaded by the facility’s headmistress to send her daughter to America to live with her relatives to give her a US education.
Massalay said she believes the headmistress and her family were in on the human-trafficking scheme — and they had an easy target in her mother.
Civil war was coming to Liberia, and within a decade, the West African nation would be ravaged by unthinkable atrocities — child soldiers as young as 10 raping and killing relatives and drinking the blood of enemy kids straight from their ripped-out hearts.
“Political unrest was brewing,” Massalay said. “My dad was a police officer, and my mom was a teacher. Those are the people they come for first.
One day, her mother told her she was about to get her chance.
But first, “we have to play a game,” Massalay’s mother said.
The mom taught the girl how to write a name that wasn’t hers and to tell authorities she was 10, not 8. Then she took her daughter to the immigration office in Monrovia to get a visa.
Soon after, on a stifling January afternoon in 1978, Massalay set off for JFK Airport for what she was told would be the adventure of a lifetime — the chance to see New York City blanketed in a perfect swirl of white.
The child wore a freshly sewn bell-bottom pantsuit and no coat and carried a small suitcase as she kissed her parents goodbye and waved to them from the stairs leading to the plane.
“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Massalay recalls telling them, confused by the tears pouring down her father’s face.
It was the last time she ever saw them.
Shortly after her arrival in New York City, the girl’s exciting journey became a waking nightmare. Massalay learned she had been sold into the modern-day slave trade as a “house girl.” She would be trapped in domestic servitude for the next six years — cooking, cleaning and caring for strangers while being beaten, forced to sleep in a bathtub and raped, giving birth on the day she celebrated her 14th birthday.
Massalay believes her parents were duped into paying a family to take her to the US, thinking their daughter would be provided safety and an education they could never give her.
It turned out the other family was part of a labor-trafficking network.
“I remember spending hours and days crying, just praying, ‘God, come get me. When are you going to come get me?’ ” Massalay told The Post.
Now, 40 years later, the dark clouds behind her eyes are nearly impossible to discern. Massalay is of one of the city Department of Education’s brightest stars, starting her 23rd year with the agency. She has worked as a substance abuse counselor and high school teacher in Brooklyn, this year teaching history and English at the Academy for College Preparation and Career Exploration in East Flatbush.
She says she wants to share her story to raise awareness about modern-day slavery. There are about 14.2 million people currently trapped in forced labor across the globe, with hundreds in New York, according to the Polaris Project, a nonprofit that runs a national hotline for trafficking victims with assistance from the federal government.
Massalay also has another, equally important message — hope.
“I tell my students all the time, when you learn something, you have to teach someone else what you learn — you have to always pay it forward because that’s what’s going to propel this world to evolve,” said Massalay, 48.
“There is a kid, just like me, in this city right now, and that kid needs to know . . . ‘You don’t have to take this. And we can give you information to leave today.’ ”
Massalay says her saga began when her mother, Selena, a teacher at a Monrovia primary school, was persuaded by the facility’s headmistress to send her daughter to America to live with her relatives to give her a US education.
Massalay said she believes the headmistress and her family were in on the human-trafficking scheme — and they had an easy target in her mother.
Civil war was coming to Liberia, and within a decade, the West African nation would be ravaged by unthinkable atrocities — child soldiers as young as 10 raping and killing relatives and drinking the blood of enemy kids straight from their ripped-out hearts.
“Political unrest was brewing,” Massalay said. “My dad was a police officer, and my mom was a teacher. Those are the people they come for first.