by Mildrède Béliard, Press Officer, CARE Haiti
Tania* is a beautiful 17-year-old girl. She’s in the third year of secondary school, and thinks of herself as romantic -- an artist. She loves to sing, dance and listen to music, as well as write. Her dream is to become a famous singer like Rihanna or Ciara.
She lives far from the bustle of Port-au-Prince. A quiet neighborhood where an unfamiliar face is noticed right away. But since the earthquake on January 12, many people have left their homes to set up camp in the remote countryside near her house. People from far away -- and familiar faces like that of the boyfriend of one of her friends.
Since the earthquake, there’s been no running water here. Tania, the oldest of four children, is responsible for fetching water, which means a half-kilometer walk along a wooded and little-used road.
This past February 7, between 5:30 and 6 p.m., she was returning from the well when she felt a cold blade against her neck. She turned around and smiled, thinking it was a joke, when she recognized the man who was threatening her as her friend’s boyfriend. She greeted him and was surprised to see him keep his threatening posture and his machete pressed against her. “You move, you scream, and I’ll cut you into pieces,” he said to her.
Shocked, she looked once more at the young man, who many times had given her a ride home on his motorcycle taxi, wondering what could be going on in his mind. “I want to do it and I want to do it with you. You let me or I’ll kill you!” She looked around but there was no one to come to her aid.
“He took off my skirt and tied my wrists with it. He didn’t stop hitting me with the flat of his machete and its point. Until I collapsed.” She stopped for a moment, her eyes filled with tears. Her lips trembled and she lifted her head to try to stop them.
“I don’t remember what happened after that. I don’t want to remember. But it didn’t stop with that. After he got up, he untied the knots and, still under the threat of his machete, he ordered me to walk. All around me it was dark, so I made a leap to escape. Finally I could yell and scream for help.”
Tania’s mother, not seeing her return, had gone looking for her. “I fell into my mother’s arms and I told her what happened.” Right away, went to the police station to file a complaint.
“The station chief told me several times not to lie, that I had to be sure that the guy had raped me. After taking my deposition, he advised me not to wash myself and to go, early the next morning, to the closest hospital to have tests that are essential in order to prosecute. He congratulated me effusively for having filed a complaint against my attacker.
“Then I had to return home, ashamed, to confront the anger of my parents, who were surprised not to find blood in my underwear. My father started shouting at me and accusing me of losing my virginity before my rape. That was all that mattered to him at the moment.
“That night was a real nightmare. Along with unceasingly reliving the horror I’d just experienced, I was rejected by the very people who should have supported me during such an ordeal. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the bite of the blade on my neck, the hot breath of my attacker and the weight of his body on mine.
“I wanted to kill myself. I felt so guilty! Why did I use that road? Why did I respond to his greetings? I should have seen him for what he really was and ignored him. Maybe I encouraged him by being polite.”
Tania did not close her eyes that night. Neither did her parents. Later, they realized that their attitude wouldn’t help their daughter to survive this ordeal. It took time for her mother to put herself in Tania’s place and understand what she was going through -- this suffering she couldn’t express.
They both accompanied her, first to the hospital, and then to the magistrate to press charges. “The doctor, the nurses, everyone was very nice to me. But the medicines! That was a different matter.”
For a month, Tania had to take medicines against a potential pregnancy and any sexually transmitted infection she could have contracted from the attacker. She had nausea and dizzy spells, but she made it through.
The hardest thing was the visit of the rapist’s parents. They came to offer her money and anything she wanted, in return for asking the judge to be lenient with their son, “too young for prison.” “They went so far as to tell me to tell the judge that it wasn’t his fault,” she said with bitter irony.
“It took me time and the support of my parents to understand that I bore no responsibility for what happened. I thought mine was an isolated case but there were a lot of girls at the clinic for the same reasons as me. Some even younger than me, and some grown women.
“It was then that I understood why the policeman insisted that I press charges. I felt a sort of anger toward other women who were victims before me but kept quiet. Because of them, I could have lost my life. Because of them, a part of my youth and innocence were stolen from me.
“I will press charges and I will go to court in order to ensure that no other girl will ever be a victim of this guy. As for the money his parents offered me? Well, let them use it to turn back the clock so that this never happened.
“Every time a woman who is raped remains silent or lets herself be intimidated, she is condemning a sister, a cousin, a friend – me -- to undergo the same fate. She is letting a monster roam the streets free. I want my testimony to help them understand that they aren’t alone and they are leaving themselves more in danger by remaining silent than by speaking up.”
Tania is part of a cultural club that, since January 12, has turned itself into a microenterprise. She has found a small job there and earns enough to help her family out a bit. Since her attacker was arrested, she feels freed from the fear that made her tremble every time she was alone. Meanwhile, she hasn’t broken off contact with her male classmates and friends.
During the first half of 2009, the group SOFA (Solidarite Fanm Ayisyèn - Haitian Women’s Solidarity) reported 136 cases of rape in four departments (West, Southeast, Artibonite, Grande’Anse), including 68 cases of rape against minors, three resulting in pregnancy, four repeat offenders, 17 gang rapes, and five attempted rapes.
*The victim’s name has been modified for the sake of confidentiality.
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