My thoughts
April 12, 2015
2:00 AM, PST
Below my post is the news in CNN from Afghan, a victim was forced to marry her rapist. I have seen this news and was very saddened by the fact that this kind of injustice really do exist. So sad for the girl.. she is left with no choice.
I hope society will be a better place to live in.
I'll be closing my eyes in this wee hours with a weeping heart for the people who experience the same ordeal.
Eliza, :'(
==============================================================
An Afghan nightmare: Forced to marry your rapist
By Nick Paton Walsh, CNN
It is an unimaginably hideous outcome.
To be raped by your cousin's husband; be jailed for adultery as your attacker was married; to suffer the ignominy of global uproar about your jailing and assault, but be pardoned by presidential decree; and then to endure the shame and rejection from a conservative society that somehow held you to blame.
The solution in this society? Marry your attacker.
READ: Women's rights in Afghanistan: Are we witnessing a revolution?
That's what happened to Gulnaz, who was barely 16 when she was raped. She's now carrying the third child of her attacker, Asadullah, who was convicted and jailed -- though this was then reduced.
Gulnaz's plight -- like so much in beleaguered Afghanistan -- disappeared from the world's gaze once she was pardoned and released courtesy of a presidential pardon. Instead of a new start, what followed for Gulnaz was a quiet, Afghan solution to the "problem" -- a telling sign of where women's rights stand in Afghanistan despite the billions that have poured into this country from the U.S. government and its NATO allies during more than a decade of war.
'Rescued' from shame
We found Gulnaz in her family home. Smile, the name of the daughter born of the rape, is now a shining little girl, bouncing around the house that her mother shares with Asadullah's first wife -- who is also Gulnaz's cousin.
Asadullah agreed to let us speak with him and Gulnaz because, it seemed, he wanted to show us that things were now settled, that under Afghanistan's version of social morality he had done the right thing. He had rescued Gulnaz from shame.
"If I hadn't married her, (but) according to our traditions, she couldn't have lived back in society," he tells us. "Her brothers didn't want to accept her back. Now, she doesn't have any of those problems."
2011: Thousands sign petition for Gulaz release
Gulnaz remains subdued throughout our meeting and does not once look her husband in the eye. "I didn't want to ruin the life of my daughter or leave myself helpless so I agreed to marry him," she says. "We are traditional people. When we get a bad name, we prefer death to living with that name in society."
As Smile attempts to pour tea, the other seven children in this household run around the courtyard. The first wife remains unseen in the house. A portrait of Gulnaz's liberator in 2011, the then-president Hamid Karzai, hangs on the wall. But the sense of order here is undermined by the fact that this is a house built around a crime.
Pressure to marry
How Gulnaz ended up here requires some explanation. There was pressure upon her to marry her attacker after her release. But at the same time, other activists were trying to assist her with an asylum bid abroad.
"Unfortunately, Gulnaz was heavily pressured to marry her attacker by various people within the government which, in and of itself, was immensely disappointing," her former attorney, an American citizen named Kimberley Motley, tells us.
"Gulnaz was constantly told that neither she nor her daughter would be protected if she did not succumb to their pressure to marry... Gulnaz essentially became a prisoner of her environment.
"As an uneducated, young, single mother with no family support, it would have been an uphill battle for Gulnaz and her daughter."
Local pressure won out. She was introduced to her attacker in the shelter where CNN first interviewed her upon release from prison. They talked and it was agreed she would marry him.
Most disturbingly, the woman who -- despite knowing the stigma it would create around her -- defiantly insisted she had been raped when we spoke nearly four years ago, now says she was told by her relatives to make up the allegations.
"Now she is beside me and knows that it was not as big as they had shown it," says Asadullah.
"No I am not thinking about it anymore," Gulnaz adds. "I don't have a problem with him now and I don't want to think about the past problems. My life is OK... I am happy with my life... It is going on."
She is then permitted to talk with us alone. Asadullah moves away but stands close to the door of the room. Though she now maintains she was not raped, she explains her decision. She contradicts her husband, saying her brothers would have taken her back, had she not married him.
"My brothers opposed the marriage and told me to take my daughter and go to Pakistan to live with them instead," she says. "But now we're married, they disowned me and won't see me again."
Her decision was for her daughter.
"No, I couldn't fulfill my wishes in life. I married this man; I cut relations with my family only to buy my daughter's future."
It is truly chilling to see how things have gone for Gulnaz after the level of international attention her story received -- pregnant with the third child of the man who was once her rapist, accepting a life as his second wife, trapped in his home.
(link: http://www.cnn.com/2015/04/07/asia/afghanistan-gulnaz-rape-marriage/)
Sabado, Abril 11, 2015
Linggo, Marso 29, 2015
Where is Lisa Floyd now? (The child who called 911 when her mom was beaten by stepdad)
I am sure many people are familiar with Lisa (the child who called 911 when her mom was beaten by her stepdad in 1991. Her call is frequently use nowadays for discussion about domestic violence and what does it bring to children. If you are not yet familiar to her, visit this link -
(link: http://www.upworthy.com/listen-to-this-6-year-old-call-911-when-her-stepdad-beats-her-momVide for the call: https://youtu.be/G_ht2vAYPoc)
According to to the blog a certain Ms. Kit Gruelle, a social worker, was able to track her down. Lisa is now a grown-up woman. But since because of the trauma she experienced during her childhood, she found herself also in an abusive relationship. Good thing, Kit was there to help her out. Lisa was saved from that relationship.
Nowadays, Lisa's firsthand account of what happened during her childhood days, and what it caused her is posted online, She is also attending conferences to help people like her.
(link here: http://cdv.org/story/lisas-story/)
Why am I sharing this to you?
Somehow a part of myself is a Lisa also. You will know it in my future entry for my diary why am I telling this.
I realized that through the painful experience we had in the past, we can change someone's life in the future for the best.
Eliza,
First memories - living without a father
(2nd post for my diary)
My first memories were mom was always with us. I barely saw my father for things I did not know. At times when he was at home, I knew back then that he was always drunk. So every time I saw him, I was so scared to him. There was an instance when he was forcing me to have a photograph with him and I did not want to, so I cried so hard because I was so frightened.
Then after sometime, something happened. It was a bright afternoon, it was the last time I remembered my father went home. But he was not there to sleep or to stay for a while, he was there to pack his things. I was so shocked by that thing, that until now the day he left us is still in my mind, very clear memory, it's as if it just happened yesterday.
He left us when I was still very young (around three years old) and my sister was still a newly born baby, mama had to work hard to earn a living. I had these memories back when I was three, mom had to go to work. Since we did not have any relatives who lived nearby, she was forced to leave us in our house. I was in charge to take care of my baby sister at the age of three (and probably our neighbors looked for us while she was still at work.)
There was a time when I had to be separated for a while from my mom because I had to attend school. She had to work in a far place, but she couldn't do it if I would be studying already, plus she had to take care of my younger sister. So my auntie helped her, I lived for sometime in my auntie's house together with my uncle and my cousin. There, countless times I envied my cousin because she had a complete family. Her parents were loving; Auntie and Uncle were kind. Auntie was my second mother and Uncle was like a father to me. I felt at home during the time I was with them, I was loved.
Since I knew that mother was working hard in a far place in Manila, at a young age I tried to study well. I knew I had to do something to make her happy. Thank God that I was able to made it and had high grades and honors. After I graduated in nursery, I immediately entered primary school. I was the youngest in our class but I was able to do well. I was sure Mama was proud of me.
And things continued to happened for us - a family of a single mother with two young daughters. Until I reached 2nd grade in primary school. I did not know that another chapter in our lives was about to happen - a chapter I wish did not happen anymore.
Until my next entry. Hopefully, I would be posting frequently from now on.
God bless us all.
Eliza,
Miyerkules, Enero 7, 2015
Magkapatid na biktima ng rape sa Nagcarlan, Laguna, nailigtas mula sa amain
(Siblings victime of rape in Nagcarlan Laguna, saved from their stepfather)
Another case of rape in my country. It pains my heart every time I see news like this, knowing the pain it would cost to these girls' life. The eldest was raped for five years (she's 19 years old now) the youngest was raped for two years (16 years old now). I could imagine the horror and the shame that they received.
The only good thing here is the victims got courage and decided to put an end in this wickedness and reported the crime their stepfather had been doing to them for years. I wish these girls would be able to move on with their lives and use this bitter thing to make them successful someday.
(Unlike me who became coward when I was a child and decided not to speak up and did not report anything to the authorities. I always wish that I was the first and last one that was abused by that evil man. ) But it's not yet too late to take opportunity and help other people, in my own little way I maybe a help. Abuse to any human being will never be a good thing...especially in the eyes of the Lord.
Until my next post. I will be updating my story.
Eliza
(Siblings victime of rape in Nagcarlan Laguna, saved from their stepfather)
Another case of rape in my country. It pains my heart every time I see news like this, knowing the pain it would cost to these girls' life. The eldest was raped for five years (she's 19 years old now) the youngest was raped for two years (16 years old now). I could imagine the horror and the shame that they received.
The only good thing here is the victims got courage and decided to put an end in this wickedness and reported the crime their stepfather had been doing to them for years. I wish these girls would be able to move on with their lives and use this bitter thing to make them successful someday.
(Unlike me who became coward when I was a child and decided not to speak up and did not report anything to the authorities. I always wish that I was the first and last one that was abused by that evil man. ) But it's not yet too late to take opportunity and help other people, in my own little way I maybe a help. Abuse to any human being will never be a good thing...especially in the eyes of the Lord.
Until my next post. I will be updating my story.
Eliza
Linggo, Disyembre 14, 2014
Pregnant After a Brutal Rape and Encouraged to Abort, Here’s How My Husband and I Responded
Reposted from a survivor:
Last January, I was traveling on business, staying in a little hotel in a college town.
I like to think I’m usually more aware of my surroundings, but it was so snowy and windy that I wouldn’t have heard his footsteps even if he had he been stomping. It happened so fast. I got the door open, turned around to close it, and he was there – a huge man. My first instinct wasn’t fear, just confusion. In an instant, he punched me in the face. I don’t remember being dragged from the room, but I was found in the stairwell. I don’t know why — maybe I was trying to go for help.
The rape kit came back negative for HIV, gonorrhea, chlamydia, syphilis, herpes, and dozens of other things I’d never heard of. God is gracious.
The following month, I was scheduled to work on a cruise ship. Struck with dysentery on day two and not getting better with antibiotics, I was taken to what passes for a hospital when we docked in Cartagena, Colombia. Concerned about intestinal obstruction, I was given an ultrasound. And we saw the pea — my son. Happy Valentine’s Day.
Last January, I was traveling on business, staying in a little hotel in a college town.
I like to think I’m usually more aware of my surroundings, but it was so snowy and windy that I wouldn’t have heard his footsteps even if he had he been stomping. It happened so fast. I got the door open, turned around to close it, and he was there – a huge man. My first instinct wasn’t fear, just confusion. In an instant, he punched me in the face. I don’t remember being dragged from the room, but I was found in the stairwell. I don’t know why — maybe I was trying to go for help.
The rape kit came back negative for HIV, gonorrhea, chlamydia, syphilis, herpes, and dozens of other things I’d never heard of. God is gracious.
The following month, I was scheduled to work on a cruise ship. Struck with dysentery on day two and not getting better with antibiotics, I was taken to what passes for a hospital when we docked in Cartagena, Colombia. Concerned about intestinal obstruction, I was given an ultrasound. And we saw the pea — my son. Happy Valentine’s Day.
Back on the ship, I told the doctors an abbreviated version of my story, which resulted in me being quarantined. Suicide watch? In danger of a psychotic break that will have me running naked across the shuffleboard courts? Who knows. What I know is that I spent the next week listening to a team of very well meaning doctors and nurses console me with how “easy” it would be to “take care of it” — to kill the child. To start over. Easy???
There were a lot of things discussed over scratchy, tearful transatlantic phone calls home that week, but the possibility of “taking care of it” never came off my lips. Or my husband’s. When I told him I was pregnant, he said with his voice calm and steady, “Okay. Okay . . . all right . . . this is all right.” I asked him, “What do you MEAN this is all right?” “I mean we can do this. We’ll get through this. It’ll be okay. And, . . . I love babies. We’re going to have another baby. Sweetheart, this is a gift. This is something wonderful from something terrible. We can DO this.” And I began to feel the stirrings of joy for the new life in my womb, blossoming under my heart. That new love that would grow so fierce it overwhelmed any trepidation or angst. And my husband was right. We could do it.
On my last morning aboard the ship, I said to this caring team, “If you ever think about this again, if you ever wonder what happened to me — I had a beautiful baby in October 2014.” Their reaction . . . , the looks on their faces . . . , the doctor who had pushed abortion more vehemently than the others — she had tears in her eyes. For the first time, I thought of how God can use this, this nightmare I’d endured. Use me.
I live in North Carolina. My OB who delivered my last two children was running in the Republican primary for U.S. Senate. He talks to people all the time who challenge him with the “What about in cases of rape?” question. What about them? My son will have a voice. Until he can use it, it’s my responsibility — my privilege — to speak for him. That’s my story.
During my pregnancy, I was in and out of the hospital for a couple of months – more in than out. I had preeclampsia, high blood pressure and uncontrolled seizures. It was terrifying at 26 weeks when they admitted me saying they might have to deliver that night — terrifying because I desperately wanted my son to live! We got past that fear. I had strict bed rest, but was home. Every week we made it further was awesome, knowing how glad I’d be once he got here safely in my arms. Emotionally, I was doing very well.
We were working with a really godly team of doctors. It’s just a matter of trusting utterly. This wasn’t new. I’d felt completely out of control since the assault in January — not that “control” is ever anything but an illusion, but, you know. 8-1/2 months ago the world upended and hadn’t righted since — until my son was born. It’s not a bad thing. It keeps me on my knees, keeps me from my arrogant, self reliant “It’s okay, God. I got this” attitude, which I’m so quick to adopt.
Our little boy may have been conceived in violence, but he is a gift from God — a delicious gift that filled the hole in our family that we never realized was there. He made us complete.
I’m so thankful to have been connected to other mothers who became pregnant by rape as well. We are survivors. Not victims. My son has healed me.
The pressure to abort from the medical community was extremely eye opening to me. So many times I was told how “simple” it would be and how quickly I could just “get on with my life” once it was over. It was heartbreaking to have to repeatedly hear it. Even some friends thought keeping the baby was a mistake — that I wouldn’t be able to handle things emotionally. Every time we, as rape survivor mothers, share our stories, we are strengthened as we strengthen others. . . . And who knows what lives might be spared?
There were a lot of things discussed over scratchy, tearful transatlantic phone calls home that week, but the possibility of “taking care of it” never came off my lips. Or my husband’s. When I told him I was pregnant, he said with his voice calm and steady, “Okay. Okay . . . all right . . . this is all right.” I asked him, “What do you MEAN this is all right?” “I mean we can do this. We’ll get through this. It’ll be okay. And, . . . I love babies. We’re going to have another baby. Sweetheart, this is a gift. This is something wonderful from something terrible. We can DO this.” And I began to feel the stirrings of joy for the new life in my womb, blossoming under my heart. That new love that would grow so fierce it overwhelmed any trepidation or angst. And my husband was right. We could do it.
On my last morning aboard the ship, I said to this caring team, “If you ever think about this again, if you ever wonder what happened to me — I had a beautiful baby in October 2014.” Their reaction . . . , the looks on their faces . . . , the doctor who had pushed abortion more vehemently than the others — she had tears in her eyes. For the first time, I thought of how God can use this, this nightmare I’d endured. Use me.
I live in North Carolina. My OB who delivered my last two children was running in the Republican primary for U.S. Senate. He talks to people all the time who challenge him with the “What about in cases of rape?” question. What about them? My son will have a voice. Until he can use it, it’s my responsibility — my privilege — to speak for him. That’s my story.
During my pregnancy, I was in and out of the hospital for a couple of months – more in than out. I had preeclampsia, high blood pressure and uncontrolled seizures. It was terrifying at 26 weeks when they admitted me saying they might have to deliver that night — terrifying because I desperately wanted my son to live! We got past that fear. I had strict bed rest, but was home. Every week we made it further was awesome, knowing how glad I’d be once he got here safely in my arms. Emotionally, I was doing very well.
We were working with a really godly team of doctors. It’s just a matter of trusting utterly. This wasn’t new. I’d felt completely out of control since the assault in January — not that “control” is ever anything but an illusion, but, you know. 8-1/2 months ago the world upended and hadn’t righted since — until my son was born. It’s not a bad thing. It keeps me on my knees, keeps me from my arrogant, self reliant “It’s okay, God. I got this” attitude, which I’m so quick to adopt.
Our little boy may have been conceived in violence, but he is a gift from God — a delicious gift that filled the hole in our family that we never realized was there. He made us complete.
I’m so thankful to have been connected to other mothers who became pregnant by rape as well. We are survivors. Not victims. My son has healed me.
The pressure to abort from the medical community was extremely eye opening to me. So many times I was told how “simple” it would be and how quickly I could just “get on with my life” once it was over. It was heartbreaking to have to repeatedly hear it. Even some friends thought keeping the baby was a mistake — that I wouldn’t be able to handle things emotionally. Every time we, as rape survivor mothers, share our stories, we are strengthened as we strengthen others. . . . And who knows what lives might be spared?
I am Eliza, an adult survivor
Dear everyone,
Thank God for allowing me to have another day, an opportunity to pursue my longtime wish to somehow help a person or two who are facing the same ordeals like me through this blog.
I am Lady Eliza Minhyung-Lee (my pen name) from Philippines, I just turned 27 last month. I came from a poor family, I lived with my late mother, our breadwinner, together with my younger sister. We were abandoned by our father when I was only around three years old.
Living a life without a father to grow up with is indeed difficult. When I was young, I envied my playmates and even my cousin who had their fathers together with them. But it was okay for me to live without a father than to live with a negligent one. (Yes, when I was younger I hated my father for leaving us, I just later on learned to accept the fact that's how life is and I get used to live a life without a negligent father.)
While growing up, I strove to study hard because I knew that by doing that, I would be able to help my mom to raise the family we had. Then around February 1994, my mom's lover came into our life. Starting then, horror events happened to me that made me scared to my core
How I was able to make it until this very hour?
I would be posting my next entries for the update next time.
Eliza,
While growing up, I strove to study hard because I knew that by doing that, I would be able to help my mom to raise the family we had. Then around February 1994, my mom's lover came into our life. Starting then, horror events happened to me that made me scared to my core
How I was able to make it until this very hour?
I would be posting my next entries for the update next time.
Eliza,
Sabado, Nobyembre 1, 2014
Welcome to my blog!
Hello, everyone!
Welcome to my blog!
Let me introduce to you my full pen name "Lady Eliza Minhyung-Lee." As you can see in the title of my blog this is an autobiography of an adult survivor. I have long been thinking to write a book to help and inspire fellow adult survivors, children who are victims of any manner of abuse or even those who are not victims who happened to know somebody facing the same ordeal. My hope is beyond my death I would continue to help these people in my own humble way. I know the hardships we have to encounter because of the bitter past.
I have thought in writing a book on my 30th birthday. I did try to make a draft but I couldn't finish it.
What made me to decide to start making a blog about my longtime plan? Time. Time is running out. I am turning 27 this year and I just do not know whether I would be alive tomorrow or in the next years to come. So, I finally decided that as long as I have an opportunity, I would grab it in helping anyone through this blog.
In the next days, God willing, hopefully this blog would be able to help even a person or two. I would post here my autobiography, and also the stories that touches my heart, that helps me to fight..to survive.
PS: I am not a professional writer, so pardon me if sometimes I would be having some grammatical errors in my posts. One thing I am assuring you, I would be doing this blog with all my heart.
Sincerely,
Eliza Lee
Welcome to my blog!
Let me introduce to you my full pen name "Lady Eliza Minhyung-Lee." As you can see in the title of my blog this is an autobiography of an adult survivor. I have long been thinking to write a book to help and inspire fellow adult survivors, children who are victims of any manner of abuse or even those who are not victims who happened to know somebody facing the same ordeal. My hope is beyond my death I would continue to help these people in my own humble way. I know the hardships we have to encounter because of the bitter past.
I have thought in writing a book on my 30th birthday. I did try to make a draft but I couldn't finish it.
What made me to decide to start making a blog about my longtime plan? Time. Time is running out. I am turning 27 this year and I just do not know whether I would be alive tomorrow or in the next years to come. So, I finally decided that as long as I have an opportunity, I would grab it in helping anyone through this blog.
In the next days, God willing, hopefully this blog would be able to help even a person or two. I would post here my autobiography, and also the stories that touches my heart, that helps me to fight..to survive.
PS: I am not a professional writer, so pardon me if sometimes I would be having some grammatical errors in my posts. One thing I am assuring you, I would be doing this blog with all my heart.
Sincerely,
Eliza Lee
Mag-subscribe sa:
Mga Post (Atom)