The International Labour Organization estimates that a quarter of the 21 million people in the world trapped in forced labor or slavery are children under 18 years of age. As horrifying as this is, an even more heinous and deadly danger to children is child sacrifice. Child sacrifice, distinctly different from child slavery, is rooted in human sacrifice; specifically, it was formerly the ritualistic killing of children to appease a deity (Bukuluki, 2014). Today, those involved in child sacrifice kidnap, mutilate, and often end up killing children for their body parts, genitals, organs, or blood, which are used for rituals (Bukuluki & Mpyangu, 2014). Trafficking of children for these purposes is a crime of child exploitation, corruption, and violence committed to procure money (Eddy & Bogere, 2014). Sadly, parents and family members are often complicit. Few children survive the experience, and for those who do, the physical, psychological, and emotional consequences are lifelong, affecting not only the child victim but also family members and carers (McCormack & Son Hing, 2023). Child sacrifice is still practiced throughout the world, particularly in sub-Saharan Africa, despite being banned by the African Charter on Human and People’s Rights.
Compounding factors in Uganda have enabled a rapid rise in the practice of child sacrifice (Byansi et al., 2014). Approximately 60%–80% of Ugandans still seek health and fertility advice from traditional healers (Nxumalo et al., 2011). Poverty and the poorly regulated traditional practices of witch doctors also contribute to the phenomenon. All but no child protection workforce exists; the policing of witch doctor practices and any care and advocacy of children is largely done by nongovernmental organizations and church ministries. In remote areas, the risk to children is high (Kyampisi Childcare Ministries, n.d.). Those working at the forefront of rescue and protection run a significant risk of experiencing primary and secondary trauma and being killed.
In a study recently published in Traumatologyopens in new window, Lynne McCormack and Megan Son Hing (2023) explored the effects experienced by carers who witness the extreme disfigurement, near death, and suffering of children rescued from attempts at child sacrifice. McCormack travelled to Uganda to interview carers of child victims. Using interpretative phenomenological analysis (Smith, 1996), McCormack conducted six interviews at Kyampisi Childcare Ministries, a large faith-based primary non-profit organization combating child sacrifice and trafficking. All participants were national care workers involved in rescue operations, physical and psychological rehabilitation of child victims, and ongoing care. McCormack and Son Hing sought to understand how carers interpreted their commitment to working with child sacrifice victims; how their work affected their own well-being, relationships, and beliefs; and how they culturally and spiritually made sense of their role.
Transcribed data revealed one superordinate theme—cultural darkness, passion, purpose, and growth—and five associated subordinate themes—mission in life/a call to serve; dark society, dark future; cost to self; coming from a place of humility, openness, and learning; and healing children, healing life, and healing society. For the participants, the personal journey of self-discovery, overlaid with a fervent spiritual commitment and passionate calling, was considered protective against bleak and destructive psychopathologies such as primary and secondary traumatic distress, burnout, and altruistic disruption (Figley, 1995; Joseph & Linley, 2008; McCann & Pearlman, 1990; McCormack & Joseph, 2012; Pearlman & Saakvitne, 1995). This did not eliminate risk, but through humility and patience, mirrored by the child victims’ slow recovery with an eye toward the future, they found purpose and meaning in their work to nurture their own well-being. The participants’ exposure to brutalized young lives often isolated them from their own support groups yet catalyzed psychological and spiritual personal growth. These carers remain exposed to their own risk of kidnapping, physical violence, and even death as they confront corruption and hidden forces that shatter the lives of young children. There is no post trauma recovery in this ongoing work nor services to support them. Their perseverance in their important work reminds the international community to consider its responsibility to those who call out such crimes, and prompts psychologists to reflect on how we can professionally support them in their courage.
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