Twice a month, on a Friday, Vivienne and Lenita prowl the dimly lit streets of Cubao,
a commercial district in the Philippines’ most populous city.
They check on much younger women, streetwalkers, whom they call “sisters.”
"They ask us for counseling when they have problems with the police."
"They seek us out."
Vivienne and Lenita used to ply the streets of Cubao in the 1990s too,
offering paid sex to customers.
They wanted out, almost as soon as they were introduced to the profession,
but feared their survival was at stake.
"If I leave that job, what will be my alternative?"
"I cannot be a clothes washer. My lungs are weak."
"Then I also ask myself, who will accept me?"
In the Philippines, prostitution is considered a crime committed by women alone.
The police often raid nightclubs and arrest women in the streets.
Bail is $50, equivalent to a week’s income for women like Vivienne and Lenita,
who work six hours a night, servicing at least three customers.
Vivienne recalls being arrested 40 to 50 times,
and staying in jail for a total of two years,
in her seven years as a prostitute.
Lenita says her experience is no different from Vivienne,
except that police often asked her for free sex or money in exchange for her freedom.
In 2002, after seven years in the flesh trade, Vivienne was finally able to get out.
Jean Enriquez, head of the Coalition Against Trafficking of Women-Asia Pacific or CATW,
took her under her wing, providing Vivienne with counseling and financial support.
"It’s a long process. A very, very long one."
"That’s why I am very grateful to the Coalition."
"Ma’am Jean did not give up on me."
"If she did, maybe I'd still be in prostitution."
Inspired by their own experiences,
Vivienne, together with four contemporaries in the profession, rescued also by the coalition,
formed Bagong Kamalayan Collective (Renewed Consciousness Collective) in 2004
to educate and fight for the rights of prostituted women.
They wanted to “rescue” their sisters from the flesh trade.
According to CATW, there are over 5,000 prostitutes in Quezon City alone.
"(The policeman) will throw you and kick you."
"That policeman? If he caught up with us, we would have been clobbered."
"He even kicked Lian, who's pregnant!"
Bagong Kamalayan’s first few years were tough.
Abusive policemen continued to harass streetwalkers.
Earning a living was most difficult.
Vivienne struggled with the temptation of going back to the streets.
"The most difficult part is seeing your child go hungry."
"I had no job—all I did was clean houses."
"In a week) I earned a measly Php 350 ($8) then."
But there was something to be so proud and happy about for the group.
In 2005, Quezon City passed an ordinance protecting prostituted women from arrest.
CATW-Asia Pacific had been lobbying for it for years.
Bagong Kamalayan makes sure that the ordinance is enforced.
"We go to the streets and talk to the women."
"Sometimes, we see the police (arresting) and we fight for the women."
"We take them with us. Sometimes, they’re even brought to court."
"We ask the presiding judge to let go of the women."
"Usually, we’re able to get the women without posting bail."
After six years of visiting the streets,
the ordinance is finally fully implemented today.
Now, police arrest the pimps and patrons, instead of the prostitutes.
Streetwalkers of Cubao say, cases of abuse have decreased significantly.
Aside from the street visits,
the group now rents a small apartment as a halfway house for streetwalkers.
Bagong Kamalayan counts over 300 members.
Of these, only 30 are active in the organization.
But, only 10 of them are completely out of the sex trade.
The group realizes that it needs to step up its efforts.
"A lot of them don’t want this job anymore."
"But the problem is, if they leave, what will be their alternative source of income?"
Just last year, Bagong Kamalayan formed a cooperative for active members.
They now manage a small canteen.
"It’s been our dream to be able to provide for work for the women."
"Eventually, we want this (canteen) to be able to subsidize our organization's expenses."
The group still has a long way to go in fulfilling its mission.
But, Vivienne says, it has already helped her and other women tremendously.
Vivienne and Lenita have kept their past from their children,
but they tell them of their advocacy and life-time mission.
"We really see each other as family. We help out in each others' problems."
"Even if some women leave the organization and return to prostitution,
once they decide to come back to us, we still accept them."
"Even if this happens over and over and over again, we still accept them."
"Because if we close our doors on them, who else will accept them?"
"It's just us."
Vivienne and Lenita call themselves survivors.
Both can't wait for the time when all their sisters become survivors as well.