Finding myself, with no help from the police

Not long after, I met the man of my dreams who promised me the world. He paid lobola after I got pregnant with our second child. After that, everything began to turn bitter. To start with he stopped me from working so I could not earn an income and solely relied on him. This began the violent lifestyle that would characterise my life. I should have left then but at that time, I did not realise that this was economic violence. In any case, I hoped things would become better.

 

He started abusing me in every possible way – economically, emotionally, physically and so on. I was even isolated from my family, friends and the rest of the community. He did not allow me to go to church because he believed I would have affairs with men from the congregation and the priest. Whenever I wanted to go out of the house, I had to inform him. The few times my family members or friends came to visit, he would accuse them of finishing his children’s food, or worse saying they had come to bewitch his home.

 

As if that was not enough, my husband did not support my children. Instead, he preferred to provide for his parents and siblings, including their children, yet they have their own homes. I could not raise concerns with him about this because that caused fights. On the contrary, my children and I never got the same attention from him. For instance, we only got a plate of food a day and little money to buy clothes once a year in December.

 

I tried to talk to him many times about how his behaviour made me feel inadequate and unhappy but that always caused a fight between us. He would even point his gun at me. Many violent times followed. Each time I reported these to the local police station, I got no joy. They would tell me that I had no physical evidence such as a “blue-eye.” They told me it was a private matter and we should resolve it ourselves. Most of them were my husband’s friends. In fact they even asked me to think about who would take care of my children if I got my husband arrested. It made me feel guilty and I often ended up withdrawing the charges.

 

The violence continued for a long time until in 2005 when for the first time I tried to apply for a Protection Order against him. I had had enough. On that day, he had threatened to kill the kids, himself and me. Thank God, it did not work out. I spent many months running from pillar to post between the magistrate court, the police station and my house whenever he was violent but got no help.

 

One weekend I got him arrested and he spent the rest of it in jail. Predictably, the case never went to court because at the time of the arrest he had more than six thousand rands in his pocket. Instead, the detective who opened the docket threatened to put me in jail. The night he came from jail, he wanted to kill us, and reported the matter to the police. They confiscated the gun and went to drop me at my sister’s place, but left without a written statement.

 

I decided to go and seek help before it was too late. I went to NISAA Institute for Women Development where they organised a shelter for my children and me. He traced me, begged for my forgiveness, and promised to change. He even booked for counselling. He promised to buy a wedding ring. Since the police had confiscated his gun, he begged me to go and sign out his gun.

 

Barely two weeks after taking me back, it was business as usual. He accused me of cheating on him, that I was a witch and a black cat. The next morning he started scolding me for refusing to close the door for him while he was standing near the door and became violent shattering glass all over the floor. I managed to escape through the window because he had locked the door.

 

I found the POWA phone number and called them. They organised shelter for me at NISAA. Officers from NISAA spoke to the police officer in charge at Lenasia who once again made us go round in circles in between different police stations. Unfortunately, I fell in the hands of officer who is my husband’s friend. He took me to my house in order to collect my children and clothes.  I could not collect my children or clothes as my husband refused. In the end, they went and dropped me by the roadside and had to go and put up at my sister’s house.

 

I just want to warn young sisters and brothers that education is the only key to success and self-empowerment and that marriage is good but also tough. Women need to unite to break the cycle of violence and this begins with breaking the silence.