News, views and top stories in your inbox. Don't miss our must-read newsletter Sign up Thank you for subscribing We have more newsletters Show me See our privacy notice Invalid Email

Eliska Tanzer tells the horrifying but ultimately uplifting story of her childhood in Slovakia in her own words...

For as long as I can remember I’ve known me and my family were vermin. We lived in East Slovakia in huge, grey, Soviet-style blocks.

My mum and aunties, who I lived with, worked as prostitutes. The money they earned was used to feed them, with us children being given the scraps, and when we travelled for our weekly water, it was used to clean them.

We occasionally got a rub-down with a rag. My mother was a gypsy, and my grandma had been in Auschwitz where she’d been tortured for her gypsy heritage. She had a scar down her side from a vile experiment – the Nazis had sewn her and another woman together.

My father was a German civilian, and on the rare times he’d take me out, he was treated differently. People would smile at him and frown at me. But my hair was matted, I stank. Often, adults spat at me.

(Image: Contributor)

My grandma was keen to get me and my cousins working as prostitutes from age six. But my aunties said we weren’t to be sent out until we started our periods.

My dad, also a volatile man with a criminal record, was kinder in comparison to my mum, and stopped my grandma from sending me to work. He didn’t want to be associated with it.

It didn’t mean I was sheltered from it. My aunt would force bananas down my throat to train me for work, and when I was seven I was taken along to work with my mum.

I never did anything, but I would have to dance naked while she was on her knees. Sometimes the men would touch themselves while they watched me, but a couple of times they’d swear at my mum for bringing me.

I know it sounds odd, but I loved dancing and being with my mum, so to me it was normal. In fact, the men would throw so much money at me, which made Mum happy, it made me feel special. Even if I was still rifling through bins for food.

I was six when I had my first bath. My dad, for all his faults, could be affectionate, and one day saw the state I was in and took me to a hotel. He ran a bath with bubbles – but I was terrified.

The steam reminded me of when my grandma cooked vegetables. I thought he was trying to boil me alive.

After screaming my head off, I was sat in the water while my dad washed me. It was the best feeling. My skin was a completely different shade afterwards!

My mum would regularly scream and shout at me, but she was abused as a child and struggled with demons. It seems weird, but I loved her, and still do. I know going to work with her could have been far worse, and I’m grateful to her that it wasn’t.

I was 13 when my mum decided to ship me to the UK. Her reasoning was she wanted me to learn to read and write, so I could ‘come back and buy her a house’.

Dad also wanted me to have an education, and with that, the arrangements were made. As I told my mother I’d miss her, she told me I should miss her for all she’d done for me, called me an ‘ungrateful leech’ and told me that she couldn’t wait to not see my face every day.

(Image: Alamy)

We turned up late at night and met a scruffy man in a white van. Two other children, a girl and a boy my age, were waiting with their mothers, who they hugged then kissed goodbye. I got a grip to the face and the words ‘be good’ before she flounced off.

Me and the other two children were shoved in a washing machine box in the windowless vehicle, cramped, scared and uncomfortable.

Once we arrived in the UK we were dropped off at a lady’s house in South Shields, where brown envelopes full of cash were exchanged. She used to hide us away as much as possible, terrified she’d be caught with us.

To me, the house was beautiful. Colourful curtains and ornaments. We were even allowed to watch TV sporadically.

We weren’t fed much, but I was used to that. The three of us shared a plate of beans and toast and were allowed a few bites each before it was refrigerated for the next day. Still, she started teaching us how to read and write in English.

One day, the lady had friends over and there was music on the telly. I loved dancing and was showing them my moves when one of them saw talent in me and took me along to dance lessons with her.

She started taking me out to dance at parties, with our main work coming from Punjabi hen do’s. I was given gorgeous dresses to wear and it was the time of my life – until one night when I was 16.

This particular party was heaven because the bride-to-be was so kind. As I walked home, I felt full for the first time ever, having enjoyed a buffet, and I skipped down the street in my gorgeous costume. Three men shouted at me, I tried to get away from them, but it was too late. They raped me, and filmed it.

I woke up on the floor to two girls stroking my face in tears. My mouth was so swollen and my jaw had misaligned, so I was unable to speak, but they called an ambulance.

I was in and out of consciousness in hospital for a few days and although they took swabs, the police didn’t take a statement. They were harsh to me because I didn’t have any ID. No one was ever charged.

What followed was a deep depression – I wished I was dead. Dad had got wind of the incident somehow and turned up on my doorstep. He marched to my room, packed me a bag and took me to a hotel.

There he cuddled me and I sobbed. It was the first time I’d cried or let anybody touch me since the rape. He let me lie down on the bed and popped out to buy nice oils and ran me a bath. It was full circle from my first bath all those years ago.

Dad sat on the floor and we spoke about me going to university. He told me I had to close this chapter of my life and carry on dancing and learning. I felt so much lighter when I got out of the bath.

Mum wasn’t so kind. When I told her what had happened she said, ‘You let them do that to you for free?’ It devastated me, but I was determined to prove it wouldn’t break me.

(Image: Contributor)

Dad helped me find my feet and I went on to get my degree in professional and creative writing. I work hard to earn money, even missing my graduation for my cleaning job. I was scrubbing a toilet, but I thought to myself, ‘I’m the most qualified cleaner in this building! Not bad for a feral child from East Slovakia.’

I still dance at hen parties and sew dresses on the side. I love cleaning and I’m happy at work, but my dream is to write full time.

I’ve written a book about my life and my family have read it. I still have a good relationship with both my mum and my dad. But this is my time. I’ve proved my worth to others, but more importantly, I’ve proved how strong I am to myself.

Child trafficking: the facts

– At any given time, an estimated 40.3 million people worldwide are in modern slavery, including 24.9 million in forced labour and 15.4 million in forced marriage. 70% of these are women and girls.

– 45% of all potential victims of trafficking (3,137 people) were children aged 18 and under.

– Last year there were 6,993 victims of human trafficking.

– 1 in 4 victims of modern slavery are children.

– Women and girls account for 99% of victims in the sex industry.

– Save £5 off Eliska’s book, The Girl From Nowhere, with offer code RA9 (RRP £14.99.) Call 01256 302 699 or order online by clicking here (free P&P on orders over £15).