Quaker tradition tells of a young man of rank who joined the gathering of Friends*. At the time, it was customary for young men in his social class to carry swords. It was, however, customary for the Friends to wear simple, non-distinctive attire – people of all walks were equally valued and welcomed. Meeting up with George Fox (the “founder” of the Quakers) one day, the young man wondered aloud whether he would be able to carry on wearing his sword now that he was a Quaker. George’s wise response was, “Wear it for as long as you are able”.
On Tuesday morning, I sat crying as a beautiful, gregarious 24-year old told a group of us how, as a popular, gifted 14-year old, she had attended a sports practice one afternoon after school. After consuming an energy drink which had been given to the team, she woke up a few hours later in the back of a truck with 3 other team mates, being driven from Burundi to South Africa, where they were locked up in a room in Durban and raped multiple times daily by various men. The men drugged the girls to stop their screaming and, eventually, the girls begged for the drugs as the only way to numb the pain they were experiencing on every level.
She isn’t clear about the timespan, but has calculated it to be around 2 years that this went on, before a security guard helped the 4 escape, leaving them at the train station. Only being able to speak French and Swahili (how could they have learned any South African languages through that time?), they were now living on the street, not sure where to turn, and in serious withdrawal. They took to staving off hunger by shop-lifting pieces of fruit.
After a few days or weeks (it was a blur) of living on the street, Dania** heard a man walking past busy on his cellphone, speaking her home language. She approached him and begged for his help to get her to the police so she could get home to Burundi. He took her home with him, fed her and gave her a place to sleep. After 3 days and no sign of him taking her to the police, he told her that, if he was going to look after her, she would have to have sex with him. He then locked her in the house (“a toilet is all you need and there is one here”) and, for the next few years, raped and beat her. Whenever the neighbours would ask him who the woman was they sometimes caught a glimpse of, he would move them to another house.
It was when she was pregnant with his second child (and allowed out only to go to the clinic) that someone at the clinic recognised her: she was apparently the spitting image of her mother. This woman managed to get Dania’s mom’s contact details and, after 4 long years, Dania heard her mother’s voice again…A funeral had been held for Dania a year or so after she had gone missing, but her mom had always believed that she was still alive…
“It is over. Come home.”
Filled with indescribable joy, she told her abuser (he was the only person in her life and she thought he might be happy for her). He beat her and kicked her as she lay on the floor. The next time Dania was able to sneak to the clinic to phone home, she was greeted with the news that her mother, on discovering that her daughter who had been lost was now found, had been so overwhelmed with emotion that she had suffered a heart attack and passed away…
Nowhere to go, she stayed with her abuser. A few years later, seeing the violence being played out between her children, she made an incredibly brave decision for their sakes. She and her children have been staying in a shelter for a while now, but have exhausted their allotted time there and have to leave in 4 weeks time. She speaks of a deep yearning for, and absence of, belonging. She doesn’t know anyone in the outside world except her abuser. She doesn’t know where they are going to go…
Later that day, I sat in a parent meeting discussing my 15-year old’s sports tour to Europe next year. With the ever-expanding budget, it had been decided that they would not have special playing tops made. But, it was wondered, could they not get the tour emblem embroidered on to their normal tops to help them feel a bit special? Conversation ensued around the positioning of the embroidered emblem so as not to cause painful nipple chafing…
* another name for the Quakers
** not her real name
From the Outer Limb 