Heartless men who know that they can make money out of the dreams of innocent young boys and their parents are to blame for all this harm
I spoke to one boy today. He was selling cheap jewelry on a street corner.
"I left my home three months ago," the boy said. "I was so excited about my new life in Europe. I remember the taxi ride to the hotel. Everything looked so different and exciting. And my first night in the hotel was fantastic."
The boy closed his eyes. He seemed to be in another world, as he remembered all that had happened.
"The bed was so big and the sheets were clean and white and there was a little bar of chocolate on the pillow. Oh, and I had my own bathroom."
He stopped talking for a minute and Smiled Weakly.
"I remember everything about that hotel room. I thought that this was the beginning of a wonderful new world for me. I was going to become a famous soccer player and earn more money than I could ever imagine. But I was so wrong. Look at me now."
The boy looked down at his torn jeans and old T-shirt.
"I'm dirty and poor. During the day I sell jewelry to tourists and at night, l sleep on the street."
He showed me a pile of leather bracelets at his feet.
"Do you make much money?" I asked him.
"Not much," he admitted. "That's why I sometimes have to beg people to give me some money instead. If my mom and dad could see me now ..."
His eyes filled with tears and his head dropped.
"Have you spoken to them since you left home?" I asked.
He shook his head, "No. I sometimes write to them but I just tell them lies. They think I'm happy."
The boy suddenly looked up at me. "But I don't think I'll ever be happy again. How can I be? I don't have a visa to stay here or any money to go home. I'm so frightened that every time I see a policeman I run away. I was always such a good and honest boy at home. My mom would tell you that.