Iquibal Massai

Using Iquabil’s voice, write about the experience of working in a carpet factory. Every morning I wake at the crack of dawn and make my way to my local dusty carpet factory. I resume to my work station and begin to tie knot after knot. Hours pass and my fingers become weak and numb, but I dare not stop. I must work to survive and every second I relax reflects back on my pay. Given up by my parents when I was four, the life of a child factory worker is all I’ve ever known. I work long hours every week wishing that someday I may be free from the chains that bind me to this nightmare. I realize that all around, children like me are accepting a life of cruel punishments, but I cannot. I try to run, I try to hide, but never have I ever felt the enjoyment of actual freedom because sooner or later I am caught and brought back to the factory where I receive my consequences. Usually I am beaten with a whip. It makes a loud noise when it smacks against my back. Words cannot describe how painful this punishment is but nothing is in comparison to the burns. I have many burns all over my body from the burning oil that was poured over me after my most recent escape. They are supposed to remind me that running away is never an option. When I leave the factory after my 12 hour day the horrible smells of beautiful carpets still linger in my lungs. I rub my hands to try and relieve the pain and redness but it never goes away. At night I dream of other worlds; perfect worlds even, where children can run around and play sports and where I could get an education. In that dream world I lead the fight against child labour and free many other helpless children. Ha! If only that could be.