Baby Snatchers: A Story of the Oan Isles’ Darkest Secret
By Imani Lucim
Writing this story is not easy. I am trembling as my fingers hit the keys on my keyboard. My chest is full and my eyes are pregnant with tears. I am very proud of the life I built in this country and of the opportunities I got ever since I immigrated here many years ago. I feel as much Oan as someone who was born here or who is of native Oan descent. For that reason, the shame I feel is that much more searing.
I got an anonymous tip off last year in January about how there is an adoption agency in the Oan Isles that may be involved in the trafficking of children from poor countries on mainland Aurora like Volova, Nilovia and Thalria. Running with this story took editorial guts the likes of which I have never had. My editor and I sat around the table wondering what to do with the information that we had been given. We thought about alerting authorities, but there was so little evidence we did not want to raise a needless furor from a prank call. But the source was a trusted one, so we decided to look into it.
I travelled to Tauranga a te Toka. I expected to find a dingy dark establishment with a creepy person lurking behind a skull on a desk. Instead, they were all wearing fancy Oan clothes and smiled with perfect teeth. Their tattoos were so perfect, I could smell the cosmetic surgery bill lingering in the atmosphere. So, I was taken aback that there was a possibility that this place was hiding something nefarious. I pretended like I was looking to adopt a child. They ran me through the process and everything looked above board.
I started Goggling sources and I came up empty. So, I took a sabbatical in the later half of 1020 AU (2020 CE). I decided to travel to Volova. I arrived in Novugdidi and met a contact for adoption agencies at the Volovan government. I told them I want to adopt a child, but I am facing challenges in the Oan Isles. The man was suspicious but I stuck with my story for weeks and the man eventually came round. He showed me to an adoption agency in Novugdidi. They walked me through the process, but I was emphatic that the normal process would not work for me. The man charged me 20,000 KRB to “find me a baby” and forge the relevant documents. At this point we alerted the Oan embassy in Tuvaltastan (which also functioned as the embassy for Volova). The embassy alerted the Auroran Security Agency. They assisted me and gave me security and helped me conceal my identity. They also gave me a hidden mic that I took with me.
He took me to a small town in the middle of the Great Auroran Desert. In this small town, they led me to an old building where people in dark suits were standing around. A woman in dirty old clothes came through holding a small object wrapped in blankets. She was as white as milk with eyes as black coals. A stout friendly looking white woman presumably working for whoever this was, took the baby from this lady who I had not been allowed to speak to and handed it to me. I looked at this poor beautiful creature as white as snow. I looked at it and nearly said, “This child is much too light for me”, only to realise that I was a pale white woman originally from Salovia (and that’s on colourism I have to battle with, but that’s a story for another day).
Instead, I said the baby is adorable. They gave it back to its mother and told me that I have to pay an additional 50,000 KRB. I was at a cross-roads, but I decided to plough ahead, much to the irritation of the ASA handlers who didn’t want to put me in harms way, but I was in too thick and too dead-set on figuring out the truth. I then decided to follow through. Yesterday, as I was writing about the tussle between the Oan and Auroran Central Bank, and they gave a call on an unknown number. I was told to meet someone at a cafe opposite the street where the Oan adoption agency was located. I alerted my ASA handlers who alerted alerted Oan police who followed me and miced me. I recognised the man I met as being from that agency. I recoiled in shock, but kept my cool. His smile was as white as snow, hair sleek, arms burly and clothes dripping. And yet the putrid smell of child trafficking stuck on him like the fumes of a landmine.
He handed me the documents and told me to fetch the baby from an upmarket hotel in Tokapa. I met another one of those fancy men from the Oan adoption agency. They handed me the baby as ordered. Oan police captured the men as they were leaving and raided the Oan adoption agency’s offices at midnight capturing documents and they are making arrests as you are reading this. I will be writing more about this and analysing what this means. But I am exhausted and disgusted, more information will come through.