Asal, woman, Age ten, UK

TRIGGER WARNING: Gender-Based Violence

2000. It was still dark outside but it was the familiar sound of rumble and thumping that woke me up. Tonight it was louder than usual.

I could hear their conversation. My mom told him that she wanted a separation and I heard him say "and so what do you think is going to happen? There is no sunshine without me."

I tried to go back to my room and sleep but the thumping began again. The open staircase gave me a full view into the living room. I saw my mom pinned up against the wall with his hands around her neck. Her face was purple. 

I froze. I couldn't move my legs. In my head there was so much I wanted to do and say but I couldn't move. All I could do was watch. Before I knew it the glass on the table had smashed and stuff was everywhere. 

I ran back upstairs into my room and pretended that I was sleeping. The sun came up, and I heard him leave the house. From the slit in the door, I saw her taking the blanket and his pillow downstairs. She put it there so my brother and I would think he slept at home leaving early for work. 

The next day my mom was blow drying my hair, with a black eye and a busted lip. It wasn't the first time, for me or her. She was crying silent tears. All I could bring myself to say was "please leave him."

It took her two years to finally leave after the night that's so vividly ingrained in my mind. 

I was too young to understand the impact that he had on me and my mother. For many years I felt guilt and shame because I couldn't make him stop. I felt like a coward for not stopping him, sometimes it was just easier to accept what he was doing rather than fighting back. I believed it was what I deserved. The impact of it has been so profound, because until today I have difficulty trusting people, especially men, and ironically the first relationship I got into resembled my relationship with my father. It took me years to understand and stop blaming myself. Until today, I have to make a conscious effort on working on my mental health. It has taken me decades to stop blaming myself and to move on from the scars he left me with, both physically and emotionally.

My mother was alone as an asylum seeker, in a foreign country where she couldn't really speak the language or know what her rights were. I urge anyone going through sexual violence to talk to someone they can trust and to seek support systems available to them in their communities or safe spaces online. It is a very dark and lonely place to be, and it doesn't have to be like that. If you know someone around you that is experiencing sexual violence, don't stay silent. Support them in seeking counsel and safety. It is so destabilising and the impacts of it last a lifetime.

Silence is complicity.