Vorschlag B2
Modern-day slavery
Dieser Vorschlag bezieht sich auf Zadie Smith: The Embassy of Cambodia.
Aufgaben
Der vorliegende Vorschlag enthält in Aufgabe 3 alternative Arbeitsanweisungen.
Outline information on Hannah and the family she works for. (Material)
Compare the excerpt to Zadie Smith’s short story “The Embassy of Cambodia.”
Choose one of the following tasks:
Taking the excerpt as a starting point, assess to what extent different measures help fight modern-day slavery.
or
You are taking part in an international youth forum called “Then and Now – how the past informs the present”. You have been assigned the UK as a country of reference and are supposed to give the opening speech.
Write a speech commenting on the question whether the UK’s past puts it under a special obligation to fight modern-day slavery.
Material
Kim Purcell: Trafficked (novel, 2012)
Hannah is a teenager from Moldova who has been trafficked to the U.S., where she illegally works as a maid for a family of Russian immigrants.
(799 Wörter)
1 baba– literally: old woman or grandmother in Slavic languages; here possibly meant as a short form ofbaba yaga, a sorceress/witch in Slavic folktales
Kim Purcell: Trafficked, New York 2012, S. 155–160.
Weiter lernen mit SchulLV-PLUS!
monatlich kündbarSchulLV-PLUS-Vorteile im ÜberblickDu hast bereits einen Account?The excerpt from Kim Purcell’s novel Trafficked (2012) centers on Hannah, a teenage girl from Moldova who has been trafficked to the United States. The text outlines her difficult circumstances as she illegally works as a domestic maid for a family of Russian immigrants, highlighting both her exploitation and the abusive dynamics within the household.
Hannah comes from a poor background in landlocked Moldova, where her family never had enough money to afford a trip to the sea, despite her lifelong dream of experiencing the ocean (lines 14–17). For the past two months, she has been working for the immigrant family, performing exhausting household chores such as dusting, cleaning up after them, and cooking their meals (lines 3, 5, 29–30, 51). Hannah harbors deep anger and resentment because her employers treat her poorly and exclude her from family life, exemplified by her being left behind to clean the house while they go to the beach to celebrate the end of summer (lines 1–2, 4–7). Furthermore, she faces severe economic exploitation: she has not been paid any of her promised wages of four hundred dollars a week, an issue she was initially too intimidated to bring up due to her fear of their reaction (lines 21–23, 33, 51). In addition to being financially deprived, she is subjected to constant, petty psychological abuse, such as being unjustly blamed for leaving hair in the shower and being criticized for her cooking techniques (lines 24–27, 39–41).
The family Hannah works for consists of the parents, Lillian and Sergey, and their young daughter, Maggie, who is about to enter the fourth grade (lines 6, 21, 37). Maggie is portrayed as talkative and entirely oblivious to Hannah's underlying fury and desperate situation, innocently chatting about her day at the beach and assuming that Hannah could simply choose to join them next time (lines 8–11, 18). Lillian, the mother, is the primary source of Hannah's mistreatment, deliberately dehumanizing her and treating her like a stray dog (lines 1–2). When Hannah finally summons the courage to ask for her unpaid wages, Lillian dismisses the request with cold indifference, claiming that Hannah actually owes the family money for her plane ticket, passport, and agent fees (lines 31–38). Lillian openly mocks the promised payment, insults Hannah by calling her condescending names like "baba" and "girl," and tells her to simply be grateful for having a beautiful home and food (lines 45, 52–58). Through these manipulative tactics, Lillian reveals her exploitative nature, utilizing unpaid labor while deflecting any sense of moral or financial responsibility.
Kim Purcell’s novel excerpt from "Trafficked" and Zadie Smith’s short story “The Embassy of Cambodia” both explore the harsh, hidden realities of modern domestic slavery. By focusing on vulnerable migrant women, both texts illustrate striking parallels in their submissive conditions while highlighting distinct differences in how power, control, and personal agency are manifested in Western societies.
At the core of both narratives is a shared framework of migration and marginalization. Both protagonists, Hannah from Moldova and Fatou from the Ivory Coast, leave their countries of origin to find work, only to end up as complete outsiders. Furthermore, both work for relatively affluent immigrant families: Hannah cleans and cooks for a Russian family in the US (lines 3, 5, 29), while Fatou performs menial chores and cares for the children of a Pakistani family, the Derawals, in the UK. This domestic servitude effectively keeps both women hidden from public view and entirely dependent on their respective employers.
The economic and psychological manipulation employed by the families reveals further deep commonalities, particularly regarding withheld compensation. In both cases, the employers withhold wages under a fraudulent guise to maintain control. Lillian tells Hannah that she cannot be paid because she still owes money for her plane ticket, passport, and agent fees (lines 34–38). Similarly, the Derawals withhold Fatou's wages under the pretense of covering her living expenses. However, the tone of their disrespect varies. While Lillian is overtly aggressive, using verbal abuse and condescending labels like "baba" and "girl" to treat Hannah like property (lines 45, 55), the Derawals rely on a passive-aggressive atmosphere where the children mock Fatou and Mrs. Derawal eventually resorts to physical violence by hitting her.
This severe mistreatment leaves both protagonists trapped in a state of profound isolation and powerlessness. Lacking legal protection or a social support system, both women have limited control over their lives and hesitate to demand fair treatment due to fear of repercussions. For example, Hannah waits two months before nervously asking about her wages (lines 21–23, 51), while Fatou suffers in silence to avoid homelessness. A significant contrast, however, lies in how their restriction and agency are depicted. The Derawals actively confiscate Fatou’s passport, creating a strict physical barrier to her escape. Yet, unlike Hannah, who is left behind to work while her family enjoys the beach (lines 4–7), Fatou retains a small sense of independent agency. By secretly using her employers' guest passes to visit a local swimming pool, she successfully carves out a private space for autonomy and self-worth.
In conclusion, both texts powerfully unmask the grim mechanics of modern domestic exploitation. While both families utilize isolation and financial deception to subjugate their workers, Lillian enforces her rule through overt verbal hostility, whereas the Derawals rely on document confiscation and passive-aggression. Ultimately, while Fatou finds a temporary escape at the swimming pool, both narratives vividly illustrate the crushing reality of individuals who remain invisible and powerless on the margins of a globalized world.
In the novel excerpt from "Trafficked", Hannah’s distressing situation highlights the complex, often invisible reality of modern-day slavery. Trapped in a foreign country, she faces severe psychological mistreatment through Lillian's hurtful comments (lines 1–2, 45, 55) and extreme economic exploitation in the form of withheld wages (lines 33–35, 51). Her vulnerable position as an undocumented, underpaid maid operating completely outside the legal framework raises a critical global question: to what extent can different social, political, and legal measures effectively fight modern-day slavery?
On the one hand, a variety of promising initiatives can theoretically provide powerful tools in this fight. Public awareness and advertisement campaigns are crucial first steps, as they draw necessary attention to the staggering number of modern-day slaves and expose their hidden working conditions to the wider public. On an individual level, targeted educational programs can inform vulnerable workers about their fundamental human and legal rights, empowering them to assert themselves against exploitative practices. Furthermore, the political implementation of strict fair wage laws can guarantee that laborers receive a living wage, backed by proactive law enforcement agencies that systematically inspect workplace environments and contractual agreements to set binding standards for all employers. Finally, for those who manage to escape, providing immediate humanitarian relief—such as pro bono legal aid from dedicated lawyers and the establishment of secure shelters and safe houses—offers an essential lifeline, ensuring free access to food, legal counsel, and physical safety.
On the other hand, the devastating reality of human trafficking often renders these well-intentioned measures completely ineffectual in practice. As Hannah’s narrative demonstrates, increasing public awareness does little to alter a victim's immediate plight, if the exploitation remains locked behind the closed doors of private households. Informing workers about their rights through educational programs is nearly impossible when trafficked individuals are kept strictly hidden, lack legal documentation, and face insurmountable language barriers in their host countries. Moreover, political frameworks like fair wage laws and official contract checks fail completely because these victims are unregistered, working illegally, and left entirely at the mercy of manipulative employers who use psychological intimidation or manufacture artificial debts. Tragically, even the most robust support systems, including free legal aid and emergency safe houses, remain completely inaccessible when a worker's freedom of movement is physically or psychologically restricted, preventing them from ever reaching outside help.
Ultimately, while structural, legal, and humanitarian measures are indispensable components of the global fight against exploitation, their efficacy hits a severe ceiling due to the underground nature of human trafficking. Relying solely on passive laws or voluntary shelters is insufficient because the most vulnerable victims are systematically cut off from society. To truly combat modern-day slavery, these measures must be integrated into a highly proactive, international strategy that actively regulates isolated domestic labor industries, punishes traffickers, and provides safe, unpunished pathways for undocumented victims to come forward without the fear of deportation or financial ruin.
Dear fellow delegates, distinguished guests, and friends from all around the world,
Welcome to this year’s international youth forum, "Then and Now – how the past informs the present." Standing here today as a representative for the United Kingdom, I cannot think of a more fitting title for our discussion. When we look at the UK, we are looking at a nation whose history is deeply woven into the fabric of the modern world. But that history is not just one of industrial revolutions and democratic milestones; it also contains some of humanity's darkest chapters. This brings us directly to the urgent question before us today: Does the UK’s past put it under a special, undeniable obligation to lead the global fight against modern-day slavery?
To understand why many argue "yes," we must look honestly at the past. The United Kingdom played a monumental and devastating role in the transatlantic slave trade. For centuries, British ships forcibly transported millions of African men, women, and children across the ocean, tearing families apart and inflicting a generational trauma that still echoes today. This colonial legacy of exploitation in Africa and Asia did not vanish when the empires dissolved. Instead, it left behind profound economic instability and systemic vulnerabilities in former colonies—the very conditions that modern-day human traffickers exploit to ensnare desperate people. Historically, the British Empire profited enormously from the immoral idea that human beings could be owned as property. Therefore, a powerful argument can be made that the UK bears a unique moral responsibility to dismantle the modern remnants of the very systems of dehumanization it helped create. Furthermore, as a proud, modern multicultural country of immigration and a key signatory of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the UK has a duty to show that its commitment to human dignity is absolute.
However, if we truly want the past to inform our present, we must also examine the complexities of this obligation. Many pragmatists argue that it is unjust to burden the current generation with the guilt of their ancestors. The people living in the UK today are not the ones who ran the slave ships. Modern-day slavery is a contemporary, highly multifaceted phenomenon. People fall victim to trafficking today due to a complex web of modern crises: climate displacement, regional wars, poverty, and corrupt local governance—factors that exist independently of historical British colonialism. Because modern slavery is a global hydra, defeating it requires shared global responsibility, not the hyper-focus on a single nation's historical guilt. Moreover, it is worth noting that the UK has not been idle; it has actively led by example in recent history, notably through the implementation of the pioneering Modern Slavery Act. Expecting the UK to carry a disproportionate financial or practical burden because of its past ignores the reality that a global crisis demands a united, globally funded response.
So, where do we draw the line between past guilt and present duty? My position is that while historical guilt should never be used to paralyze or unfairly penalize a modern society, history absolutely serves as a powerful moral compass. The UK’s past does not mean it must fight modern slavery alone, but it does mean the nation can never afford to look away.
The special obligation of the United Kingdom is not about carrying a burden of shame; it is about utilizing its current global privilege, its wealth, and its international platform to right a historical imbalance. We cannot change the horrors of yesterday, but because we know how deeply the past informs the present, we have the power—and the duty—to ensure that the future belongs to freedom.
Thank you very much.