Vivian’s story
Tonight, Channel 4 Dispatches broadcasts a film made during a year they spent inside a women’s refuge.
Nearly one in ten of the women we see at Little Village tell us that they’ve experienced domestic violence; but many cases go undisclosed, and the evidence shows that 1 in 4 women in the UK are likely to experience some form of gender violence during their lifetimes.
Unsurprisingly, that gender violence is connected to many other risks for women, including poor mental health, substance misuse, homelessness and mental illness.
We do all we can to support the women we meet who have found the courage to flee violent partners and families.
And we salute the amazing support staff like those in tonight’s programme who help these women get back on their own two feet and find their identity again.
But it’s not easy.
Three quarters of local authorities have cut spending on refuges since 2010.
And 1 in 6 refuges have closed in the last 8 years.
All these cuts to vital local services means that women in very vulnerable situations are being failed by the system. We hope that this programme tonight raises awareness of the issues.
But for now I want to open up my medium channel to Vivian, a mum we’ve supported at Little Village who decided to share her story with us last year. Thank you Vivian.
Vivian’s story
My name is Vivian. I am a full-time, single mum and the sole carer for my son William. I have supported him from when he was three months old till, now he is two years old. We all have stories to tell about our different life experiences. At first, I was too embarrassed to tell my story because I was worried about being judged by people. I was scared no one would believe me. I am a victim of domestic abuse. This part of my life is something I hate talking about but as part of my recovery storytelling has inspired me to speak out about something I dreaded so much.
Little Village supported and empowered me to gain back my confidence and boldness. I now have a voice to speak out and empower others that are currently experiencing abuse in their relationships. I am telling my story in the hope of encouraging others to face the truth and realise that our life is not shaped by how much we have been through, what we possess or how much we earn but how much love we share and our ability to positively impact change in ourselves and others. Storytelling was introduced by Little Village making it possible for people like me to tell their stories and encourage others devoid of fear, worry and judgment. I am now telling my story, not embarrassed but empowered. I hope after telling my story I would have signposted red flags in abusive relationships, empowering others to flee such situations, I call it ‘breaking the ice’ and regaining freedom to live devoid of fear, abuse and coercive behaviour. This is my story, how it all started.
Living in fear and control of someone
I worked as a Health Care Assistant for a Hospital in London. My ex-partner also worked in the same hospital, where I met him. At the beginning the relationship was pleasant, romantic and normal. He promised to love, support and stand by me. I believed him, but the happiness didn’t last long. Little did I know that it was going to be the beginning of a new chapter in my life. The beginning of my nightmare.
We moved in together, in May, 2015, everything was pleasant until I fell pregnant. At first the news was good, we were happy. After a while my nightmare started. He unleashed the dragon in him. He became controlling, uncaring, and yelled at me. All the promises disappeared, the light blinked; that colourful picture turned into a thick dark shadow.
At first, I thought it was me so I began to work on myself. I decided to listen more and talk less and let him take the lead to make the relationship work. His moods went off and on. He was always yelling ‘you are horrible,’ ‘nothing is free in the UK so you need to do everything in this house’, ‘you are just using this pregnancy to make excuses’ he said. He complained over every little mishap. He threatened to throw me out in the cold with my pregnancy. I feared homelessness.
At this point the relationship had become life threatening. In September, 2015 I begged him to calm down as he was raging, yelling at me calling me names like, ‘stupid girl’, ‘silly girl’, “I will make you regret knowing me”, he said. He left that morning and refused to talk, listen and he was swearing at me, making my life miserable. On the morning of 15th October, my life took a wrong turn, the nightmare became worse. I decided to talk to him to calm the situation because I was so scared. He was not talking to me, it was horrible, and I went down on my knees begging him.
I became a ghost of myself, now he turned me into his slave. I hand washed his underwear, ironed and packed them. I did the laundry, I cleaned, cooked and mopped the whole house. I washed his plates before and after meal. I was not allowed to talk to people on the phone or laugh. I was not allowed to express my feelings or to show any signs of tiredness, despite my condition. He didn’t care about me or ask about our unborn baby or rub my belly. He blackmailed me with my immigration status, he threatened me. He said, “you don’t have the right to be in the UK”, meaning you don’t have rights here in this room or anywhere in this country. I cried day and night and I prayed to God every day. My heart jumped anytime he was home.
He commanded me around; he was coercive and controlling. The peak was on November 5, 2015, he asked me to carry a 10 kg rice and put it up on the wardrobe; when I tried to remind him of my condition he started to swear at me, ‘you lazy idiot’, ‘what stupid pregnancy’, ‘useless girl’. I didn’t say anything because I was not allowed to talk. He literally couldn’t do anything for himself, he intimidated and commanded me around to run the house. I had to stand up for every command and to obey his orders. I cried almost every day during the pregnancy.
I worked all day to make him happy but yet I didn’t meet his expectations. He said I was not allowed to move freely in the room because I made noise with my body movements and these were distractions which disturbed his peace. “You are so silly and annoying” he said to me. My relationship with him turned into slavery, he was my master and I was his sex slave. He used me for sex and forced me every time because I feared what he would do if he didn’t get his way or if I protested. I didn’t report my experiences at that time because I thought no one would believe me. I depended on him financially and emotionally and I didn’t have anywhere to go if he kicked me out. I became very afraid of him. I avoided certain topics out of fear because I didn’t want him to become upset. Most of the time I blamed myself for everything and hoped he would change towards me, sometimes I wondered if I was the one crazy. I experienced verbal abuse, sexual abuse, emotional abuse, and financial abuse and at some points physical abuse. He humiliated and yelled at me. He made it clear to me that my happiness and sadness is dependent on him. “I can make you happy or sad” he said.
My pregnancy was a nightmare, I lost so much confidence in myself. He made every day a living hell for me. I never told anyone about my experiences because I was scared that people would judge me and would never believe me or even ignore me. My biggest fear was homelessness. He said that me and my unborn child were a mistake, he called the baby ‘that thing’ and pointed at my belly. He told people lies about me and how useless I was, he was just ‘helping’ me. I was isolated from friends. I was not allowed to talk on the phone, anytime I got a telephone call and he walked in, I jumped, and hid my phone.
He blamed me for his abusive behaviour and whenever he was sober he told me that he was not a bad man nor evil but I was responsible for him not being nice to me. Whenever he said that I kept hoping he would change one day. I cried every day and I lived in fear and hopelessness.
On Christmas Day 2015 he was not talking to me I started begging him to forgive me if I wronged him but he said that I would never force him to talk to me. He chatted on the phone and his iPad freely then sent me on errands when he had private discussions, he oppressed and humiliated me with phone chats.
The last week of my pregnancy February 2016, was the most horrible period of my life, I went through hell and he didn’t care. I was not allowed to have my labour contractions on the same bed or even in the same room as him because “you don’t have the right to be in the UK so you are not allowed to make noise“ he said. I avoided getting in his way because I didn’t know what might happen to me if I did, besides I was already in pain and wouldn’t wish for more pain.
In the morning of February 17th, 2016 at 09:35am I woke up, he had already left for work. I was feeling weird, I could guess the baby was coming. The whole experience and pressure was horrible, I cried my eyes out. I felt the whole world was crashing on me. I just had a safe normal delivery of a lovely baby boy. I was meant to be happy. Instead I was sad because of what was happening around me.
Breaking the ice
I fled with my child from my ex-partner for my life as the pressure was unbearable. I finally had to face my worse fear- homelessness. I accepted my fate at last, I vowed to push through my fear. I was accommodated by a friend from the church for seven months. This time was so hard, living in abject poverty and poor living conditions. The house was overcrowded but it was better than nothing. I was taking William to the children centre, we met an outreach worker who introduced me to Little Village. It was like a light had been shone through the darkness. We lived on food bank vouchers, no access to public funds and no income because I was not allowed work due to my immigration status at that time. Little Village welcomed us and gave a free non-judgmental service. One of the volunteers I met was so nice and supportive, she provided us with free toys, clothes, nappies and basics for my child. After being through so much — domestic abuse, homelessness and immigration problems, I was fortunate to find the help I needed. Welcare and Victim Support helped me back on my feet by providing accommodation, working with Wandsworth Council.
As part of my recovery from emotional and mental trauma incurred from the abuse, Victim Support provided me with free, confidential non-judgmental emotional and practical support. Little Village supported me with free clothing, toys and other things, tackling his child poverty. I got help to resolve my immigration status by accessing the referrals made by the outreach worker at York Garden’s Children’s Centre and Victim Support. They supported me with written statements to the Home Office and I finally had the right to remain in the UK.
I was willing to take opportunities that came along as I met other parents with their different stories and experiences. Being part of the storytelling group working together with Little Village, I met other amazing mums from different backgrounds with different stories. This storytelling group gave me confidence to tell my story publicly. I realised talking about it and not bottling it up or hiding or denying it was the pathway to recovery and fixing my problems. I learnt it was part of the healing process for the emotional scars and was creating a positive change in my life. I realised that discussing these experiences could help others. It could also help organisations to improve and design better services.
These last months have been amazing. I took the opportunity for support from another organisation — Home Start — where I met other mums. We have small groups where we talk and support each other. My son just started nursery, so I feel like making a positive contribution, I signed up as a food bank volunteer in my local church community. I am hoping to give back to the community through a non-judgmental service and working in a team to provide for people with needs. Working to help other people who have experienced domestic abuse, poverty and homelessness to tell their stories and speak out by inspiring them positively and creating an impact by sharing my experiences.
Many thanks to Vivian, who told this story as part of a series of storytelling workshops Little Village ran with sounddelivery, funded by the National Lottery Community Fund.