Woman Went on A Cruise Ship with A Guy She Recently Met Online – He Sold Her to Traffickers, But She | HO

For decades, Naima Belrose lived a life defined by responsibility. At 53, she had raised her children, endured a long marriage that slowly hollowed her sense of self, and spent years working in a demanding public-service role that required her to absorb other people’s trauma while setting aside her own.

By the time she retired early in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, those close to her noticed a quiet exhaustion that went deeper than physical fatigue.

What no one anticipated was that her first attempt to reclaim joy would place her at the center of a federal investigation into international trafficking, organ harvesting, and online predation — or that her survival would expose a criminal operation spanning multiple countries.

According to court records, victim testimony, and federal indictments, Naima Belrose became one of the few known survivors of a trafficking network that used cruise tourism and social media platforms to lure older women into cross-border exploitation.

This is her story.

A Life Spent Carrying Others

Naima Belrose was not reckless. Friends and family describe her as cautious, practical, and deeply rooted in routine. As a case manager in Baton Rouge, she spent her career advocating for people navigating housing insecurity, domestic instability, and mental-health crises. Her work demanded empathy, structure, and emotional resilience.

At home, she was a mother first. Her two children, Zahara and Omari, were the center of her life. Even after they reached adulthood, Naima remained the emotional anchor of the family, the person everyone called when something went wrong.

Her marriage, by contrast, had been a long exercise in endurance rather than fulfillment. Years of emotional distance eventually led to divorce — a decision that brought relief, but also a profound sense of emptiness. When her children moved out and her career slowed, Naima found herself confronting a question she had postponed for decades: who was she when she was no longer needed by everyone else?

The Digital Doorway

In early 2017, Naima joined a private Facebook group aimed at Black adults over 50. The group was marketed as a space for connection, wellness, travel advice, and life after caregiving. For Naima, it offered something she had not realized she was missing: permission to imagine a life beyond duty.

It was there that she encountered Khalil Duval.

According to federal prosecutors, Duval presented himself as a 41-year-old wellness coach with a passion for travel, fitness, and “helping people rediscover joy.” His online persona was carefully curated: motivational posts, photographs in scenic locations, and language that emphasized growth, healing, and freedom.

At first, he blended seamlessly into the group. His comments were respectful. His messages were thoughtful. He asked questions, listened carefully, and responded with empathy. Unlike the superficial attention Naima had learned to dismiss, Khalil’s interest appeared patient and sincere.

Investigators later described this phase as targeted emotional grooming.

A Carefully Built Trust

Over several weeks, Khalil and Naima exchanged daily messages. He praised her resilience. He reframed her years of sacrifice as strength rather than loss. He spoke often about how women like her “deserved to be chosen for once.”

According to Naima’s testimony, the relationship never felt rushed. Khalil did not pressure her for explicit content or immediate travel. Instead, he allowed intimacy to grow slowly, reinforcing the idea that he respected her boundaries.

Then he introduced the idea of a cruise.

Galveston to Cozumel. Short. Safe. Easy. A chance to “breathe again.”

When Naima hesitated, Khalil offered reassurance — and financial support. He told her he would cover most of the expenses. “You just bring your joy,” he said.

Investigators later identified this phrasing as part of a repeated pattern used with multiple victims.

Warnings That Went Unheeded

Naima’s children were uneasy. Zahara questioned traveling with someone her mother had never met in person. Omari, a law-enforcement officer himself, urged caution without pressing too hard.

Naima understood their fear. But she also felt something she had not felt in years: agency. This decision, she told them, was not about trusting Khalil. It was about trusting herself.

On August 8, 2017, Naima boarded the cruise ship in Galveston, Texas.

The Port of No Return

Two days later, the ship docked in Cozumel, Mexico.

Surveillance records and port logs confirm Naima disembarked with Khalil that morning. According to her later statement, the city felt vibrant and welcoming at first. Khalil suggested lunch at a local spot “away from tourist traps.”

They walked farther from the port than Naima expected. The streets grew quieter. The crowds thinned.

Then, according to sworn testimony, two men appeared in a narrow passageway. Khalil acknowledged them without surprise.

That was the moment Naima realized she had been deceived.

Inside the Network

What followed, according to court documents, was not random violence, but a pre-planned transfer.

Federal investigators later confirmed that Naima was taken to an industrial facility outside the city — a site already under partial surveillance due to unrelated trafficking intelligence. Inside, she encountered multiple women in similar condition: sedated, restrained, and disoriented.

Medical experts who later examined Naima testified that she had been drugged with a combination of sedatives designed to immobilize without inducing full unconsciousness — a method consistent with illicit organ-harvesting operations documented by international watchdog groups.

Naima would later learn that she was not intended to survive.

A Break in the System

What disrupted the operation was not chance, but conscience.

A nurse employed at the facility — identified in court as Esperanza to protect her safety — noticed irregularities in patient handling and survival rates. According to her testimony, she had already been covertly cooperating with authorities in a limited capacity.

Esperanza made a decision that likely saved Naima’s life.

She left her a handwritten note instructing her to remain conscious and be ready to move after nightfall.

That message, prosecutors argued, created the window needed for extraction.

Escape and Recovery

With assistance from Esperanza and an external contact later identified as a cooperating informant, Naima was removed from the facility and transported across the border. Within days, she was airlifted to the United States and admitted to intensive care.

Medical records confirm she had undergone non-consensual surgery resulting in the loss of a kidney. Doctors described her condition as critical but stable.

Her children arrived at the hospital within hours.

For weeks, Naima drifted in and out of consciousness. When she began to speak, federal agents documented every detail she could recall — names, phrases, tattoos, locations, methods.

Those details would become central to a sweeping federal case.

The Manhunt

Khalil Duval returned to the United States shortly after the cruise. According to prosecutors, he immediately resumed online activity under a different alias.

What he did not know was that Omari Belrose, working alongside federal agents, was already tracking his digital footprint.

Using a controlled online decoy operation, authorities documented Khalil’s continued attempts to recruit women using the same language, promises, and financial offers.

In October 2017, he agreed to meet what he believed was another potential victim.

Instead, he was arrested by federal agents without incident.

The Scope Revealed

The investigation uncovered a pattern far larger than Naima’s case alone.

According to federal indictments:

Khalil Duval was linked to at least seven women over five years

Two victims remain missing

One was later located deceased near a nightclub in Cancun

Others survived with severe physical and psychological injuries

Prosecutors described the operation as a hybrid trafficking model, combining online grooming, tourism infrastructure, and cross-border medical exploitation.

Justice and Aftermath

Khalil Duval was convicted on multiple federal charges, including human trafficking, conspiracy, and aggravated bodily harm. He was sentenced to 120 years in federal prison.

Esperanza testified remotely under witness protection.

Naima Belrose survived — but survival was only the beginning.

A Life Reclaimed

Recovery was slow and uneven. Trauma specialists testified that her psychological injuries were consistent with prolonged captivity and betrayal trauma.

But Naima refused silence.

In 2019, she founded the Safe Escape Foundation, focused on:

Online-dating verification education

Support for older women re-entering social spaces

Trauma recovery resources

Collaboration with law enforcement on prevention strategies

On her bedroom wall, she keeps the note that saved her life.

The Larger Question

Thousands of women disappear each year.

Some are looking for love.
Some for freedom.
Some for one moment that belongs only to them.

Naima Belrose lived to tell her story.

How many do not?