EEUU: THESE WOMEN SURVIVED DOMESTIC VIOLENCE. NOW THEY'RE TAKING A STAND TO HELP OTHERS

New Amnesty International report, Fragmented and Unequal, Shows Louisiana’s Justice System Failing Survivors of Gender-Based Intimate Partner Violence

The brave women in this article are from Louisiana, USA. All of them endured years of physical, emotional and sexual abuse. Several survived being shot. And they didn’t always get the help they needed from the system.

Amnesty International's new report, Fragmented and Unequal, shows how the justice system in Louisiana is failing survivors of domestic violence. From failing to take violence seriously, to arresting survivors who call for help, the response from the authorities is frequently inadequate and discriminatory. 

By telling their stories, these survivors are letting others know that it's possible to overcome both the trauma of domestic violence and the injustice of the system. They are using their experiences to help others, and showing that there is a way out.

These stories are powerful, heartbreaking and inspiring.

They also include graphic descriptions of violence and sexual assault.

Angela's story

In my case, it started as verbal abuse. I’d known my partner for 20 years and he was a good person. He started changing in 2015. After his mum died, he bought several guns including a machete and a shotgun.

He became more combative, not only with me but with others and through his social media. I couldn’t do anything right.

One evening in early November it turned physical. We were having a conversation and at some point it escalated and I asked him to leave. I walked over to the door, opened it and said we could have the conversation another day. He grabbed me by the hood of my sweatshirt, threw me out my door and got on top of me and started choking me. I managed to yell for our oldest son and he got off of me and left.

We’d broken up, but we were starting to work things out again, when one morning we had a disagreement. I was in the bathtub, when he came in and shot me. I can only remember the last two gunshots. I look up at him and he says “‘Look what you made me do Angie”, ‘You made me shoot you.’

He returned with my cell phone and I told him to dial 911. I felt as though I was dying. My legs felt prickly. I didn’t realize he’d shot me in the back and I was already paralyzed.

I can remember being loaded into the paramedics truck and saying to the female paramedic, “please don’t let me die, I have four children to raise." I spent 3 weeks in hospital. During that time around 400 people came to visit me. That’s when I realized I had a message I wanted to share.

Since then, I’ve been doing a lot of public speaking – not just about gun violence and domestic violence, but about gun control and mental health. If people are willing to listen, I want to talk about the things that matter.

I survived nine gunshots, but I’ve never cried about being paralyzed. I still have pity parties, but it’s because I have to rely on others, when all I want is to be a mother again. This year, I will be partnering with the IRIS domestic violence centre, where I will be talking to people about what to do if you’re experiencing an abusive relationship.

Let’s not just point people in the right direction, let’s walk with them.

Elizabeth’s story

His behaviour changed rapidly. I know I should have recognized it, but when you’re inside a situation it’s hard to get perspective.

One day my daughter called me crying saying my ex had threatened to hit her in the head with a hammer. I called the police and they removed him from the house and I got a restraining order the next day.

After a month, I went to the judge and asked him to rescind the order because I couldn’t imagine this man hurting us. Then on January 13, my whole life changed.

When my ex entered the house, my daughter was awake. I heard an argument. I came into the living area to try and calm her down. Her eyes were wide with fear - she could see him approaching with a gun. When I turned around shots rang. I managed to dial 911. I couldn’t talk because [my face] was shot up, but they traced the call home. The police came, then the medical team.

I heard a policeman say, “Oh this is just a domestic violence case.” He was just five feet from where I was fighting for my life and where my child lay dead. There was nothing “just” about it.

My entire face was reconstructed because the bullets tore it apart. I was in a coma for almost a month. When I woke up, I was hit with the reality of the situation. My brother and sister refused to bury my daughter without me. I had to go to therapy to learn to use my muscles, but a lot of it they couldn’t fix. I can’t blow my nose. My lips are still numb and when I’m eating and drinking I don’t know if something is too hot until I get a blister. It’s been a struggle.

I’ve talked to women who dated my ex and they’ve mentioned he was violent with them. Had I known he’d been abusive with other women, I wouldn’t have made him a part of my life.

The first time somebody asked me to talk about what happened, it was hard. It’s hard every time. But if it changes one life, it matters to me. Domestic violence is such a personal issue and it’s a secret. We must get people to understand that they’re not in it by themselves.

I’ve met young women and men who’ve heard my story and said it changed them. It gives them the courage to reach out and ask for help.

Twahna’s story

I was a sophomore in college. I fell in love with a wonder guy, my prince charming. It was the perfect relationship - until one day I felt his hand on my face. He said, “Bitch if you had kept mouth closed, it wouldn’t have happened.”

From that moment, my life was turned upside down. I was mentally, emotionally and sexually abused. He degraded me, he talked about me being overweight, and he stripped me of all of my power. I began to question my self-worth, self-confidence, and my true purpose in life. I thought of committing suicide many times. It was a way out for me.

I told no one in the beginning. I was too embarrassed and ashamed to share what I was going through - my family and friends adored him. He isolated me from my support system, those who loved and cared for me dearly. Lines of communication with family and friends were limited. He monitored my every move.

Eventually I built up enough courage and strengthen to tell a relative.  She said, “I believe you. You deserve better. What can I do to help?"

I left him and went to live with her for a while, but my abuser convinced me to return to him. He swore that he would seek counselling, an anger management program, but he never did. He said all the right things to get me back in his possession. I believed him with all of my heart. I gave in to another chance. 

Change never came. One day he put his hands around my neck and began strangling me. It was like he was possessed. He said to me, “I will kill you if you every leave again”. I saw myself dying at his hands.

I went to bed that night and prayed. I heard this soft spoken voice in my ear and I knew it was voice of God. The next morning, I woke up and the voice said to me, “today’s the day you leave”. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I told him I was leaving for work and gave him a kiss goodbye. I hid behind a building across from our apartment building and when I saw him get into his car I returned to the apartment to gather my things. I never went back!!

It was the  scariest time of my life. Starting over without him was very challenging, but I pressed forward determined to live again. I got busy volunteering at a local shelter and speaking out against domestic violence in some uncomfortable spaces. 

I began dating again, and decided to return to university. I had the opportunity to share my story with a gathering of young women an event remembering those who had lost their lives due to domestic violence. That night my story impacted several of the women and I realized my story could inspire me.

The Butterfly Society came to be through my personal journey. We’re a grassroots organization - boots on the ground, meeting people where they are. We go to barbershops, neighbourhood schools, and churches. We aim to educate, empower and engage the community.

There’s still so much work to be done and it’s up to us as a team to make an impact. One person can’t do this alone. It takes many hands and many voices to do this work.

#useyourvoice

Kirby’s story

I met someone in high school and we started dating. I fell pregnant 3 months before graduating and moved in with him. The first time he put his hands on me was while I was pregnant. I wanted my daughter to have a father so I stayed with him.

The violence progressed. It was sexual, physical and emotional abuse. No one knew what went on behind closed doors. He treated me like I was his property.

I got my first restraining order after he showed up at my apartment, threw me around, choked me. I got another one four years later, but I ended up dropping it because I didn’t have anyone to represent me and I was afraid of his threats.

In June 2017 I woke up to him sexually assaulting me in my bed. I stood up for myself and told him that what he was doing was rape. He told me he would show me what it was really like to be raped. He threw me onto the bed, I swung at him and bit him hard. He got back on top of me and started strangling me. My daughter came and yelled at him to stop.

I was able to call the police. They treated me like a delusional, hysterical, uncooperative person because I didn’t want to repeat what I had already said four times in front of different men. The police report says I refused to write a statement, but I was never asked to do so. They told me I needed to decide if I wanted to press charges of breaking and entering or if I wanted them to call whoever does rape kits.

One police officer talked to my daughter, then told me my husband he was being arrested for domestic abuse and battery by strangulation based on her statement. They told me: “Just sign the paper Ma’am, I’m done handling you with kid gloves.”

I met with my counsellor and next thing, I have Child Protective Services called on me for allowing my children to see spousal abuse. I was instructed to get a Protective Order for me and the kids. At the hearing, he was granted supervised visitation and required to take 26 weeks of family violence intervention classes. He was arrested four times while he was taking the classes, but he still got his certificate.

After that he decided to file for sole custody of the kids. The closer it gets to trial, the more I fear that he will kill me and my kids and flee to another country. He used to have an AK 47 and a Glock, always loaded. I don’t know if he surrendered his guns. He’s probably just hiding them in his garage. Yet I am determined to fight him every step of the way.

I co-founded VOICES of Acadiana, an organization which advocates for victims of domestic violence.

A women’s abuse group was started at the Bayou church – and that’s where I broke my silence for the first time. Now I am a trained facilitator. I spoke in front of a group of 150 women and shared my story of domestic abuse. It was an incredible feeling when these women stood up and clapped for me – it made me feel as though my chains were broken.

Tiffany’s story

I met my abuser when I was 14. At first there wasn’t physical abuse, it was emotional. He would embarrass me or make feel inferior in front of other people. It went from verbal to physical real fast. When I was seven months pregnant, he beat me until I was on the floor, curled in a ball.

While I was in the hospital having my child, he cashed my mom’s cheque and bought drugs to sell. We were behind on rent, and the landlord took everything I owned out of the home and put it on the curb.

Finally, I made up my mind: I wasn’t going back. He managed to track me down. He showed up at my doorway, and just like that, it was on again. Mentally I was broken. He made me believe he was the only person who would ever love me.