Like, now.
So here goes. It all started with cake. This cake, to be exact:
This is because you can't strap a cake box into a car seat. Seatbelts don't hold them. And no one else was around to hold the box - my cousin was at work, my mother was going to take my little sisters swimming, and my older sister was... frolicking in the meadows with flowers in her hair... or whatever it is she does. So it had to be me.
This is kinda irrelevant. Fun facts, you know?
Anyhow, so off we went. Picked up the cake. Dropped off the mother and sisters. On our way home, and then we saw... Louise.
Okay, I donno why I'm calling her Louise, her name is nothing like Louise, and she is nothing like a Louise, but this was the first thing that came to mind.
Who is Louise? you ask.
Louise is a Pakistani lady that my mother is friends with. She has three daughters, two of whom are twins that are my second sister's age, and that's how my mother met her - through school. This was five years ago, I guess, and back then, Louise didn't speak much English, she wasn't covered and had a strictly cultural perspective on religion. What do I mean by that? Well, for example, she was brought up with the teaching that it was haraam to say the word 'pig'.
O_O
Yeah. But she was a lovely lady - soft spoken, sweet, genuine - so my mother, as she does, invited her to the Islamic studies class we have at our house. She came, enthusiastically, and masha'allah she was really devoted. For example, you know how some of us... most of us... when we learn something new, religion wise, it takes us a while to implement? We sort've skiddadle and ease our way in? I don't think there's anything wrong with this, so long as you're trying to get there, but Louise - Louise was an immediate I-hear-and-obey. Once she learned that wearing the headscarf was mandatory, as well as the overall dress code, she did it overnight. No beating around the bush or baby steps, just shebang. She's walking out covered top to toe. We were impressed.
Also, though she's soft spoken, she's not what I'd call... shy? Introverted? What I mean to say is, despite the difficulties of language barriers, she was never the type to sit and be at home. Like, the streets where we live are connected to a main road, and we'd forever see her up and down this road, at a bus stop or walking somewhere with her youngest. She drops her kids off to school, and then takes the youngest to the library, or to different shopping centres where they have kids activities and stuff, etc. She basically adjusted to the country, learning to use the public transport system, and really improving on her English too.
So, back to Saturday.
Saturday we saw Louise at a bus stop, as usual, with her three daughters, and there were these two guys with her. She waved when we drove past, and at first we thought it was just that. But then, looking in the rearview mirror, we realised that she was waving us over.
"She wants to talk to me," my dad said vaguely, pulling a U-turn and parking on the opposite side of the road, across from the bus stop. Then he said something that I can't ever forget, just because I don't understand how he could have possibly known. "Her husband is a peculiar fellow."
Weird, right?
So you may have noticed that I have failed to mention her hubby so far. Generally speaking, I assumed she was that independant because her husband works. After all, there were times, very early on, where he wouldn't even be around for Eid. That's big for me, because I don't know - even if families don't go out of their way to celebrate crazily, Eid has always been emphasized as at least a family event. So him not being in the picture around that time was just weird... but that just meant my mother invited Louise and her daughters to spend Eid with us.
But we did meet him - he was present one Eid, and they visited us. I think we also invited them to a dinner once, and they invited us too. I've never personally met the guy, but my father had, and somehow he knew, I guess.
So. My dad got out of the van, crossed the road, and a conversation ensued. At this point, the two guys that were with her had left. I was stuck in the van, belted to my seat, weighed down by the stupid cake box, my neck craned awkwardly to watch the episode unfold. They talked for a Long Time, and then, the police showed up.
It was all I could do to stop myself throwing the cake and making a break for it. I really wanted to know what was up, but it was the main road, so I couldn't hear over the traffic. Another Long conversation went on, and then something kinda weird happened. The police got into their car, pulled a U-turn, drove just a little way down the main road - like one block down - and parked in front of a car. They got out, tapped on the window, and Louise's husband got out.
Now, doesn't that strike you as a leetle creepy? There they were, mummy and the girls at the bus stop, and a little way away, daddy's watching them in the car. He'd been there the whole time, I just hadn't noticed. It's not something you expect to see, after all. But anyhow, another conversation took place, with arm waving and sombre nods, before one of the policemen turned around and strolled back to my dad and Louise, and then I heard him say 'you can go.' After some more words I couldn't hear, Louise and her daughters crossed the road with my dad, and they got into our van.
Is the suspense killing you? It should be. It killed me.
Now, how do I say this? Well, basically... her husband is an abusive prat. Prat doesn't even describe it, but I'm not sure I can think of a better word.
Some my father explained to me, some I heard from Louise as she spoke on the phone in our house.
So he's an alcoholic, for a start, which is what sparked off the runaway that day. He'd been drinking the night before, and in the morning, he'd exploded. From bits of both sides, he'd wanted to take his daughters swimming, but they said no. They'd started covering up recently - although it's not mandatory at that age, they'd wanted to, and it was kind of a group transformation - my little sister had started with them, as well as another girl in their class. I guess they took it a little more seriously, and so swimming was out of the question. This, for some inexplicable reason, coupled with what I'd assume was a nasty hangover, made him explode.
On the phone, Louise was like: "I don't care if he hurts me, I was patient for 10 years. But he can't touch my daughters."
When I heard that, I had to go to my room and cry.
That, and watching my mother hold her while she cried, having held back the tears in front of her girls.
So in between moments of his fury, she managed to call the police from her house. But then she realised it was too dangerous to stay, and having her bags packed already, plus a list of important phone numbers ready, she took the girls and left. He thought she'd come back 'cause she had nowhere to go, so he let her. For a while, she hadn't the slightest idea of what to do, and she'd sat with her daughters at the bus stop, before she realised the police would go to her house, and what good would that be, if she was out here? So that's where the two guys came in - she asked them if she could use a phone, and that's round about where we showed up.
So yeah, 10 years of abuse that she put up with, because, for one - and a lot of women do this, from what I know - she thought that it was better for the kids to have a 'whole' family, never mind how broken. Because he didn't hurt her daughters before, she took it. Also, another popular misconception: she was under the impression she had to be a slave to her husband.
This is where I get to gloat about how awesome Islam really is. Coming to the classes, Louise started learning stuff, more than just stuff about dress codes and saying the word 'pig'. She learnt about her rights.
She learnt that her husband owed her a duty of care - he had to provide for her and the kids. From what I heard on the phone, he always said he was looking for work and that he just never had the money. He wouldn't pay for necessities like clothes and food, unless he felt like it, but oh, when he wanted to engage in some obscure kind of business, suddenly there it was. Also, although Louise learnt to drive and had a license - something none of us knew - he never bought her a car either, nor gave her the right to use his. So this is why she walked everywhere, and took public transport - no vehicle, and the need to get away.
And she learnt that she obedience to her husband was conditional. If it wasn't within the confines of Islam, then she wasn't obligated to listen.
(I'm sorry this is going back and forth - some things I learnt later, some then and there, etc :/ )
Okay, so one thing that annoyed him was religion itself. When she first started covering up, it annoyed him, so when her daughters started, she thought it was safer to keep it a secret from him. Another reason why he exploded. Also, before she'd started prepping to leave, she had tried to educate him first, to give him a chance. I had thought it was just a general thing, when she started borrowing some of our Islamic books, but now I know it was bigger than that. So anyhow, that morning, apparently he yelled that if she wanted to get all religious on him, she had to obey him because that was what Islam taught too.
And she told him, quite simply, that no - she didn't have to obey him, her duty was only to God.
And that, in the end, was what prompted her to leave, as well as giving her the strength to leave.
So anyway, after making a number of calls to organisations that helped in this situation, my parents took her to the police station, where she was eventually taken to an undisclosed safe house. It was all so ninja - we didn't know where the house was, and we couldn't contact her either. We had wanted her to stay with us, but she said she couldn't because - to paraphrase - her husband was a lunatic, and he knew where we lived. She said he'd show up, and if she was there, there'd be trouble. So she went off to her mysterious location, with the kiddies...
... and yeah, he showed up.
Gosh, he was such a smooth talker. I shamelessly eavesdropped, imagining many violent situations where I murdered him, while he told my father how he Louise had been exaggerating, he didn't know where this whole thing had come from, he was personally just hurt that she'd been doing things behind his back, with regards to raising the kids. Man, he was just worried, learning now that his daughters wore the headscarf - why didn't she talk about it with him? They were too young! What if kids started bullying them at school, calling them terrorists and such? How could she do this to him, he worked so hard to maintain the family, all he wanted to do was spend time with them and she was stopping him, blah blah blah blah BLAHHHHH.
How do I/we see through this?
Some things. Firstly, the whole daughters wearing headscarf thing. Yes, they are young. But it was something they wanted to do, were proud to do, and why was he discouraging it? Is it really something worth screaming over? And worrying about racism... ugh. I really want to just say, we live in [insertcitywelivein]. You say that around here, and everyone rolls their eyes, because we have a reputation for our mulitculturalism. Muslims dominate. Calling someone a terrorist would earn you a punishment, not the person you insulted. What the heck was he thinking?
As for spending time with them: he is never around. He doesn't pick them up from school, he doesn't drop them off, and as I said before, he wasn't even around for Eid. He never contributes, but apparently she's keeping them from him because she does everything for them?
And for all his precious words about the pain she caused him, nothing justifies abuse. Whether it was mild or serious, he does not have that right to hurt her so. And just let him explain the tears of his daughters, why dontcha?
But anyway, while I fumed away, my dad showed his awesome. Firstly, with regards to the upbringing of the kids, and how she doesn't let him raise them:
"Look, I understand where you're coming from, but this isn't something to be angry about," he said. "Your daughters - they're in my daughter's class. I've been to the school. I know what they say about them. They say your daughters are angels. They have a wonderful reputation, masha'allah - smart and good and everything. And all this is credit to your wife. Okay, you want to help raise them, you can work that out in the future. But don't be furious at what she's done for them - you should be proud."
Something to that effect :) And then this:
"Okay, brother, I've heard your side of the story. I listened to her side as well. And I don't know, maybe you're right, maybe she is. But you know what else? When I was with her, at the bus stop, I looked at your daughters, and I asked them about you. And never in my life have I seen kids so close to their mother. They were crying and scared when I just said the word 'father'. So what am I supposed to think now?"
What I was superdy pleased to say was Louise never showed any sign of weakness. A lot of women, going through this, sometimes have doubts. They think they're doing the wrong thing, they want to contact their husband, etc. But Louise never let up. We had our 'sisterhood' keep tabs on her, making sure she was okay and stuff. My mother was once swayed a little by her hubby's smooth talking, and was like: 'Would you take him back, if he changed? He says he's suffering.'
And she was like: 'Let him suffer.'
Anyway, since then, we've sort've been pushed to the sidelines. Louise stayed in the safe house for ages - her daughters didn't start school on the first week or so. We heard that her husband waited outside the school for a while, but when they did start, the school was informed so the girls were taken care of.
And then, court procedures. These take forever mind you, and they're still ongoing. I don't know all the details, and I expect much of it is a bore, but there are some interesting side notes. For one, Louise's father has long since passed away, so she also felt she never had that back up protection to leave. But she started informing her mother, and much like in The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, she told her daughter to record evidence of the abuse. I don't know what she taped, don't really want to know, but hey, I'm impressed that she could do that. Also, her husband - I guess I should start calling him her ex - being his creepy self, apparently had been calling around for ages, trying to figure out where she was. He talked to all the family friends and stuff, and eventually started a campaign against her, in their neighbourhood. And I know this sounds weird, but I found it hilarious.
What did he do, you wonder? Well, he convinced his neighbour to testify that apparently Louise was attending classes - our classes, mind you - that were so extremist, they had connections with the Taliban.
I know I shouldn't be LOL-ing, but I did. I just can't believe he's that desperate. I'm connected to the Taliban, guys. Something new to add to my resume. I'm sure my peers will be impressed. *insert major eye roll*
Okay, so I know this is long, but I have to put this here. Remember I mentioned a Dutch loony-tune? Well, this is what prompted me to put this post up before the court case actually ended. This guy is that typical Islamaphobic idiot. He's in Australia now, stirring up all sorts of controversy, basically being a raving lunatic. It angers me to listen to people like that, but mostly it makes me sick - and I mean, seriously pained. I don't know... I just feel awful when there are people who say such wrong things, and others lap it up, and there's nothing I can do about it. But I'm going to do it here, even if this isn't really relevant to most of you, not being an Aussie audience affected by this colourfulword.
One of the things he said was that when Big Bad Islam Takes Over The World, women and children will be the first to suffer... and he went on to talk about that typical crazy Islam-oppresses-women rubbish.
Well, Louise's story is a case in point why that's rubbish. Islam was what taught her her rights. Islam was what gave her that strength to stand up for herself. Our little sisterhood was what gave her strength. God was what gave her that strength. So who does this guy think he is, saying that stuff?
But also, Louise's story also shows that knowledge is power. All the stuff she didn't know was what allowed her to be pushed about by her ex, what made her think that this was what she was meant to do, to submit to all the bad things he did. It was all the years of studying, learning her rights, then learning how to deal with it that helped her get through. She's still so soft-spoken, but gosh she's one of the strongest women I know.
So despite the elements of tragedy, it's not really a tragic story. I think the tragedy let Louise shine, more than anything.
That is all. There'll be a lot of mistakes through here, but I eez tired, and it's late. Ta.
Peace in,
Laila
