This week, I picked up a copy of Cynthia Owen’s ‘Living with Evil’ from a bookshop in Islamabad. The book is written as a firsthand account by a victim of physical and sexual abuse in childhood.
Once I started the book, I couldn’t put it down until I’d turned the last page over, my eyes as large as saucers in shock at the horrors to which Owen and her siblings were subjected by their alcoholic parents. Even more interestingly, the book, in my view, serves as an excellent case study regarding the behaviour of ‘others’ in these children’s lives: people who were outside the circle of abuse, but could still see what was going on.
Cynthia’s father began raping her, with her mother’s consent, when she was eight. Eventually, she was also ‘rented’ out to friends, relatives, and random strangers in return for money, alcohol or cigarettes. She became pregnant for the first time when she was 11. Her Catholic school teachers could see that a child under their care was pregnant; her strict, often sadistic, headmistress even asked her about it, and when Cynthia shamefacedly denied her pregnancy, the headmistress made her face the wall every time she came to class.
So they knew – these adults who were supposed to look after this helpless child; they knew. And they did nothing. Her parents were the primary perpetrators of the abuse, as were the other paedophiles who were involved in the entire transaction. But can the other adults – those in contact with the child, but outside the direct circles of abuse themselves – be exonerated? Surely they had some responsibility towards someone whose well being had been entrusted to them?
Cynthia’s story hit me hard, because it closely mirrored in some aspects the story of a dear friend of mine. Brought up in a lower middle class household in Islamabad, she was raped for the first time when she was six – by a friend of her father’s. The abuse continued, until she, like Cynthia, gave birth at the age of 11. My friend’s childbirth took everyone by surprise, apparently. She says that perhaps due to her tiny physical structure, the pregnancy wasn’t obvious, and her parents went into shock when she suddenly went into labour. Like Cynthia, my friend gave birth to a healthy, beautiful daughter. Unlike Cynthia, however, my friend’s daughter was put up for adoption by the hospital administration. Cynthia’s daughter was cruelly murdered by her mother (the infant’s grandmother); she eventually found her grave, and through an inquest, managed to get the unknown infant, who had been dumped into a mass grave, identified as her daughter, Noleen Murphy.
My friend here does not know if her daughter is even alive. The psychological repercussions of the five-year-long sexual abuse have dogged her throughout her life (she is in her early 30s now). Even worse, to date, her parents and extended family continue to blame her for the rapes and the pregnancy. They have, for more than two decades, held a six-year-old responsible for the fact that they were unable to adequately protect her. The psychological repercussions of this victim-blaming – by her own loved ones, no less –have been immense. I will not delve into the details because that story is hers to tell
My sole reason for bringing all of this up was to highlight a few things that have been preying on my mind for a while: first, that child sexual abuse exists in Pakistan; please stop denying its existence. Two, that incestuous rape, at the hands of fathers, brothers and uncles, is more common than we’d like to accept. Three, that a teenager has no business, whatsoever, giving birth; teenage pregnancies are among the leading causes of maternal mortality in Pakistan. Child marriage is nothing more than legalised paedophilia; it endangers multiple lives, including that of the mother and the foetus.
Most importantly, please know and understand the signs of abuse. Teachers have a particularly important role to play in this matter. Child sexual abuse is not a ‘private matter’. In Cynthia Owen’s case, the abuse that she and her siblings suffered destroyed the lives of at least three generations despite the immense strength that Owen displays.
As such, child abuse (physical and sexual) is a crime against society. Please keep an eye out for signs: before dismissing a child’s behaviour as ‘devilish’ or ‘hell-bound’, please examine other factors that might have contributed to it. Either talk to the child’s parents, or to someone in a place of authority.
The well being of children is our collective responsibility, not least because Pakistan is signatory to international conventions protecting the rights of children. Please remember: Silence in the face of injustice makes you party to said injustice. Silence in the face of abuse is evil.
The writer is a freelance journalist and researcher based in Karachi. She can be found lurking in the dark corners of the interwebs, and can be reached through twitter (@UroojZia) or email (contact AT uroojzia.com).
