Brenda’s story (2009): Facing an unspeakable past
Growing up in a comfortable, middle class family, Brenda had high hopes of completing her education and becoming a midwife. But at the age of 32, her life was turned upside down. Her father was shot dead, her mother drifted into a coma from which she would never recover, and Brenda was detained and raped when she mistakenly went to the police hoping to find justice for her family.
Now, almost ten years later, Brenda still finds it hard to talk about what happened, given the shame and guilt associated with rape in Cameroon. The remarkable progress that she has made, in rebuilding her life, finding the ability to trust men again, and finally being afforded the chance to retrain as a midwife, is testament to her determination not to be destroyed by torture.
It is also a transformation she credits to the therapeutic care she received from the Medical Foundation for the Care of Victims of Torture, where she was able to talk and grieve in ways she never thought possible.
"I had a normal life, an ordinary childhood, until my father got involved in politics and ended up being killed," says Brenda, now 41.
Brenda (not her real name) never knew the level of her father's involvement with an opposition political party in Cameroon, but that did not stop the police from making her suffer when she subsequently went to find out why he had been shot dead.
"I wanted to know what had happened to my father. But in a country where there's no law, only corruption, they just push you in a cell and there's nobody to complain to, they will do anything for money, if they are told to torture you, they will do it."
Brenda was detained on three occasions and held for days at a time, each time she was beaten, mostly on the soles of her feet. When her sister came to enquire about her at the police station, she was also detained. Both of them were raped.
"At first I tried to fight, but at some point, I just gave up, knowing I would never win."
Brenda was advised to leave the country and was brought to the UK by an agent. It took two years of psychotherapy at the MF until she felt able to talk about what had happened to her.
"There's a big stigma attached to rape, it's not easy to talk about negative things. I had to learn to trust again. With the help of counselling and meeting other people in a situation where I felt they understood me, I realised I needed to move on."
However, it was a slow and often painful process. Brenda battled with depression for many years. Even when she found herself able to be part of a relationship, she still contended with her own personal grief for her parents and for what she had survived. She came close to suicide many times.
While the Home Office considered her claim for refugee protection, Brenda's accommodation was changed countless times, forcing her to re-adapt again and again, frustrating her efforts to rebuild a life in exile.
"As soon as you settle somewhere, you are told to pick up and leave. You're not allowed to work and you just spend your time sitting, thinking. Your hands are tied. Nobody wants to sit at home waiting for things to happen to them. Life is good when you can work and care for yourself and your children, where you can contribute."
Yet Brenda considers herself "the luckiest woman on this planet" because of the help she found in enrolling herself on an English course, which enabled her to fend for herself and eventually the family she has since had.
She was finally given indefinite leave to remain in the UK in 2007, which has allowed her to apply to university to complete her midwife qualifications: "My dream is coming true, I'm not quite there yet but when I am, I know my struggle will not have been in vain."
Brenda still finds it hard to think about the past and continues to receive counselling at the MF, albeit less frequently, but she can at least now think about the future with more certainty and confidence: "I want to get a good job, to raise my kids, that's what I'm praying for now."
