A video update on Imad Iddine Habib (عماد الدين حبيب). I introduced him to you last month, on his fourth night in hiding. Imad is founder of the ex-Muslims of Morocco. Police are after him for his open atheism and his vocal promotion of universal human rights.
In this 1-minute video, Imad issues a call to action for all of us: http://bit.ly/18CsPbJ. Please share and make others aware.
Phyllis Carter - I can't get video as I do not have cable, but I want to express my interest and good wishes to any person who cares more about kindness and justice than about dogmatic religion. No one can prove God as they understand God. We can only try to make life safe and fair for all people.
Irshad Manji - ALL: If you take up Imad's request, could you also post here the email address and/or phone number of your country's Moroccan embassy? Thanks so much.
Robin Ristander Moroccan embassy SWEDEN Phone: +46 8 5455 1130 E-mail: morocco@telia.com
Irshad Manji - Thank you so much, Robin! Blessings to you.
Hemin Kurda - How typical! The religion of peace forcing its former adverents to seek help from the infidels! Talk about "no coercion in religion"
Irshad Manji - The trouble with Islam today is... Muslims.
Lydia Nacawa - Son Excellence Mme Nouzha Chekrouni, Ambassadeur du Royaume du Maroc au Canada, Ambassade du Royaume du Maroc au Canada 38, Range Road Ottawa - Ontario K1N 8J4
Fax : (613) 236-61 64
Angela Arigoni-Mesfioui - In Morocco this is a huge no no...I have not seen anything on the news here about it...do you know what region?
Abdu Muhammed-ali Mahmud - What's wrong with the Moroccan authorities?"Let there be no compulsion in religion"says The Noble Qur'an, Islam is perfect,but Muslims are not. I hope one day we would find all Moroccans enjoying their freedom to love or leave Islam with the blessing of the same leaders that are now persecuting them!
"To his enemies he was a mass murderer, but to many he was the man who shed light on back-street abortions and put women's health and choice on the front page."
Canadian abortion rights crusader Henry Morgentaler has died. He was 90: http://theprov.in/ZukeEQ
Decades ago, I was appointed a director of The Committee For Neutral Schools by Dr. Henry Morgentaler, a Montrealer who had survived the Holocaust.
Our purpose was to see bilingual, non-sectarian schools flourishing across Canada. All students would learn English and French together in "Neutral Schools".
I was interviewed on radio and TV at the time, trying to get everyone to see the logic.
Courses could be divided, using English for some subjects and French for others. Students would be working side by side. Playing side by side. They could develop lasting friendships and pass on to their children a Canada living in peace and harmony.
But we could not stop the French extremists in Quebec and the English extremists in the rest of Canada from blocking our plans.
So decades later, we see the battles in Quebec continuing, wasting time and resources and turning people against each other. It seems we have learned nothing, but Henry tried his best to teach us.
Henry Morgentaler was a survivor of the greed and hatred that killed millions of innocent men, women and children in Europe. He was a visionary, a man who understood what division and bigotry can do.
And he respected women, our basic human right to control the use of our own bodies. He risked his own reputation, his freedom, even his life, to save women from back street deadly abortions, to provide clean, safe abortions for those who came to him. There were those who would have killed him, given the chance.
Henry did not go out seeking customers. He did not put up signs or take out TV ads. He helped those who came to him in need of his help. And he had an outstanding record of safety. I find it ironic that people who claim that they value human life, would gladly murder to achieve their aims.
I am grateful that I had the privilege of working with Henry Morgentaler under a banner of fairness, peace and justice. We can only hope that the world catches up with his wisdom before too much longer.
A girl of 13 is beaten, drugged and raped by four men. She dares to tell. Now they want to kill her.
This lovely young girl is fortunate to have a large family that supports her and loves her. Her father and brothers, unlike so many men in Pakistan are supporting her, so her brother was murdered. The family had to flee, leaving their home and all their belongings behind.
It took years, but her case finally came to court. Her lawyer appears to be an honourable man, but he couldn't beat the system. The rapists won and all the men are seen on screen cheering. They blame the girl. They call her a whore. Yet they claim she actually was married to one of her rapists and there was no rape. Her lawyer says this is a common way for rapists to get away with their crimes in Pakistan.
The family of the rapists state openly that the girl is to be killed.
In Pakistan, just talking about rape and sexual violence is a cultural taboo. But bringing a case through the Pakistani courts and discerning truth from fiction is dangerous, complicated and, and as filmmakers Habiba Nosheen and Hilke Schellmann learned, fraught with challenges.
When 13-year-old Kainat Soomro accused four men of gang rape, she risked everything: her reputation, her education and even her life.
In Pakistan, just talking about rape and sexual violence is a cultural taboo. But bringing a case through the Pakistani courts and discerning truth from fiction is dangerous, complicated and, and as filmmakers Habiba Nosheen and Hilke Schellmann learned, fraught with challenges. The two spent nearly four years probing Kainat's story as she took on the men she says raped her — as well as of her alleged rapists' quest to clear their names. Here, Nosheen and Schellmann discuss how the course of their investigation took dramatic and unexpected turns, revealing a deeply flawed justice system and the people it serves on both sides. Their film Outlawed in Pakistanairs Tuesday on FRONTLINE,
Who Is Kainat Soomro and what made you want to tell this story?
Hilke: The film is about Kainat Soomro, a Pakistani teenager who says she was gang raped by four men. We've been following her story for years as she took her case to the courts, and we also followed her alleged rapists.
While we were doing the story, we also uncovered more systematic problems in the Pakistani criminal justice system: a lack of police investigation and a lack of DNA evidence that could have helped her or other alleged rape victims, as well as those trying to clear their names.
Habiba: … What ends up happening in Pakistan due to the lack of investigation is [the case becomes] a he-said vs. she-said situation. When the case goes to court, you have a woman's word against a man's, and there's no way to decipher the truth from fiction.
For example, a simple DNA test could have solved this case years ago, and that wasn't done in this case. You can get to the truth a lot quicker if you have the proper evidence collected in a proper way and investigated in a way that speeds up the process of a legal rape case.
What's the environment in Pakistan when it comes to talking about rape and sexual violence?
"I just think people didn't take us that seriously. They thought, 'Sure, I'll talk to you. You're just some girl.'"
Habiba: I think it's still a big taboo in Pakistan for a woman to admit that she's been raped, and often she's not believed. When a woman does speak up about rape, one of the biggest accusations that she faces is that she's doing this to either get attention or, more importantly, to get a visa to go abroad. That is the accusation you hear again and again when people talk about Kainat or when people talk about about other women who have brought up cases of rape. That's because their argument is, "Why else would a woman do this? It's so shameful that she would be talking about these things that are so inappropriate for a woman to be talking about. She's clearly only doing this to get a visa." …
People were confused that we came all the way to Pakistan to follow a rape case. That seemed to them not a priority for journalists, and I think that follows the priority that Pakistan places on rape. It's also not a place where resources go to investigate rape or assistance for rape victims.
You've been working on this for nearly four years. What made Kainat's story stand out to you, and why follow it for so long?
Hilke: We went to Pakistan together because we wanted to tell stories of interesting women. Pakistan is ranked the second lowest in the World Economic Forum's global gender index, and we wanted to find stories of women who are maybe going against stereotypes and pushing some of these boundaries of what is expected of them as women.
We followed Kainat and two other women, and over time it just became clear that her story was so gut-wrenching and so many developments happened during in her court case – which we don't want to spoil the film here — that we just started focusing in on her. …
To be honest, we were also struck by a teenager who was that outspoken and determined.
Habiba: There's something special about the way she's been able to be so public about an issue that's such a taboo in Pakistan, and that you don't see often in Pakistan, I think. That struck us that's interesting and fascinating.
Hilke: And we heard it time and time again from people that Kainat is really pushing the boundaries by speaking out publicly. Even the attorney for the four accused men — who believes his clients are innocent — said that he thinks she's a strong woman for taking on this battle so publicly. …
The women's organization that we talked to, her lawyer, they all say, we have been living in Pakistan for decades, and this wouldn't have been possible two or three, or even one decade ago that a woman would go on TV and be able to say that she was raped and she wasn't at fault, and that is progress.
What were some of the constraints of making this film?
Habiba: Initially, budget. It was just the two of us for a long period of time taking our personal savings and a camera and running off to Pakistan. We were assisted by some journalism grants, but that just covers expenses. We were doing this for free on all of our vacation time. During family wedding time, I would go to Pakistan and I would take Hilke with me and we'd try and film. We were two independent filmmakers going on an adventure, unsure of whether anyone would ever see this film we were funding out of pocket.
Hilke: We'd constantly ask ourselves that, even when we were back in the editing room. We knew we had a great story, but we wondered, does anybody care about an alleged rape victim and the systematic problem of rape cases in Pakistan? Will anybody ever care? So we're really grateful that FRONTLINE and ITVS got on board and told us that yes, there is an interest in this.
Habiba: Beyond funding, it was this really interesting journey where we were juggling pregnancies — at one point 75 percent of our staff was pregnant — the dangers of being in and out of Pakistan and making sure the story is as balanced as we can make it.
But also, one of the biggest challenges is that this is a very complicated court case with a lot of different perspectives. Everybody has a different story of what happened to Kainat Soomro, so deciphering truth from fiction as a journalist, when we don't have the documents to go to help you get some clarity, was hard.
You're asking the most basic questions because there is no credible paper trail that you could simply follow, and you take that for granted in the U.S. For example, here, if you want to verify a marriage, you call up where two people were married. But as a Pakistani, I know that documents can be forged in certain places, so you have to look at everything with a bit of suspicion because you know the reality that just because there's a document to vouch for something doesn't mean that it actually happened. That's tough as a journalist, because usually documents are our friend, but when you strip us away from that, it's really hard to know what's true and what's not true.
Poor little creature. Breeders play with life. They will manipulate genes any which way they like in order to make money and amuse their sick tastes. And little animals with souls are born into twisted, distorted, often sick bodies. How cruel !
Hungary's PM slams anti-Semitism, but disappoints Jews
1 of 2. Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban poses with Gusztav Zoltai (L), managing director of the Federation of Jewish Communities in Hungary during the 14th Plenary Assembly of the World Jewish Congress in Budapest May 5, 2013. Hundreds of Jewish leaders gathered in Budapest for a three-day meeting to discuss a rise in far-right extremism and anti-Semitism in Europe, including Hungary.
Credit: Reuters/Laszlo Balogh
BUDAPEST (Reuters) - Prime Minister Viktor Orban strongly denounced growing anti-Semitism in Hungary on Sunday but stopped short of censuring the far-right Jobbik party his audience of world Jewish leaders most wanted him to scold.
Orban told the World Jewish Congress (WJC), which is holding its four-yearly assembly in Hungary to highlight its concern about rising hostility to Jews here and elsewhere in Europe, that anti-Semitism was "unacceptable and intolerable".
He recounted the steps his conservative government has taken to outlaw hate crimes and preserve the memory of the Holocaust, during which about half a million Hungarian Jews died.
But he did not respond to a call from WJC President Ronald Lauder, who in his opening remarks singled out Jobbik and told Orban "Hungarian Jews need you to take on these dark forces".
After Orban's speech, a WJC statement said: "The prime minister did not confront the true nature of the problem: the threat posed by the anti-Semites in general and by the extreme-right Jobbik party in particular.
"We regret that Mr. Orban did not address any recent anti-Semitic or racist incidents in the country, nor did he provide sufficient reassurance that a clear line has been drawn between his government and the far-right fringe."
ALSO AGAINST ROMA, EUROPEAN UNION
Jobbik, which also vilifies Hungary's Roma minority and opposes the European Union and what it sees as other foreign influences, has 43 of the 386 seats in parliament, where Orban's Fidesz party has more than two-thirds of the seats.
One of Jobbik's deputies called in November for lists of prominent Jews to be drawn up to protect national security.
At a Jobbik rally on Saturday, he and other deputies charged that Jews were trying to buy up property to take over Hungary and accused Israel of running concentration camps in Gaza.
Addressing the Jewish leaders, Orban said: "We don't want Hungary to become a country of hate and anti-Semitism and we ask for your help and experience in helping us solve the problem."
He said Hungary's answer to increasing anti-Semitism here and elsewhere in Europe "is not to give up our religious and moral roots but to recall and reinforce the example of good Christians" in its laws defending the dignity of all citizens.
While the government has taken steps against anti-Semitism, critics say it does not draw a clear enough line against Jobbik, which competes with it for votes of nationalist Hungarians frustrated by the deepening economic crisis.
Elie Petit, a French Jewish student leader attending the assembly, said Orban "does not fight really anti-Semitism, racism and attacks on minorities. He is not strong enough to alter the actions of the Jobbik party."
NOT CLEAR ENOUGH
Jobbik is also popular among young Hungarians, especially university students in the liberal arts, sociologist Peter Tibor Nagy told Reuters. "That means it is not just a temporary phenomenon, it will last," he said.
Formed in 2003, Jobbik gained increasing influence as it gradually radicalized, vilifying Jews and the country's 700,000 Roma. Hungary has been among European states worst hit by the economic crisis and has struggled to exit recession.
Peter Feldmajer, head of the Hungarian Jewish community, hinted at the government's ambiguous stand in his speech when he said texts by "Hungarian Nazis are included in the national curriculum and thus polluting the souls of our students".
Hungary was once a centre of Jewish life in Europe and a quarter of Budapest's pre-Holocaust population was Jewish.
The country now has about 80,000-100,000 Jews and has seen a modest revival of Jewish life with renovated synagogues and new schools. New restaurants and bars have made the old ghetto area into one of the city's most popular night spots.
Chances are they already speak more languages than you: children from Papua New Guinea's Andai tribe of hunter-gatherers wait for their parents to vote in the village of Kaiam. Over 800 languages are spoken in PNG, a country of about six million people.
Some years ago, Jared Diamond, the Pulitzer-Prize winning author of Guns, Germs, and Steel, was sitting around a campfire in the highlands of Papua New Guinea. He'd recently had a conversation with a New Guinea friend who spoke a total of eight languages: five were local to the friend's village and the friend had just picked them up as a child, the other three he learned in school.
Diamond tried a simple experiment. He asked the number of languages spoken by each of the 20 New Guineans gathered around the fire with him. The smallest number, he reports in his new book The World Until Yesterday, was five. "Several men," he wrote, "spoke from eight to 12 languages, and the champion was a man who spoke 15." These weren't dialects, but mutually unintelligible languages.
Learning new languages keeps the brain active and healthy. The ignorant who choose not to learn are more likely to see Alzheimer's disease in their future.
Canada is united by the talent and labour, the blood, sweat and tears of the Canadian people who have, for generations laboured in factories and on farms and in stores and schools and hospitals, and by the great sacrifices of our soldiers in two World Wars.
We are united by people who care about their neighbours and help them in times of need, and work hard day and night to raise good families, to provide food and clothing and shelter and education and medical care.
We were united by the few honourable politicians who once made us proud to be Canadians and made us popular wherever we travelled in the world. Such political figures were few and far between, but I'll bet you could name two or three if you try.
Expo ' 67 was like a wedding, bringing together Canadians from coast to coast who came to meet people from all over the world and share food and music and science and culture. Flowers bloomed everywhere and the aroma of fresh coffee wafted from the Ethiopian Pavilion. It was the perfect party to celebrate being Canadian. Everyone talked with everyone in all kinds of languages. It was a joyous summer in Quebec.
We are united by the contributions of our devoted teachers and hard-working nurses and caring doctors and brilliant scientists, and we are united and comforted by our artists, painters and talented musicians and opera singers who bring us the pleasure of quality music. Strangers and friends are united at our jazz clubs, where we meet and relax and are uplifted by sharing this very human music.
We are united by banks, corporations, companies, benevolent societies, and all sorts of institutions that cross borders and share common interests. Do the separatists expect national and international bodies would sever connections all over Canada in order to do business with a ghetto state ?
Would the Quebec ghetto have its own currency - accepted by whom? - Its own army? Air force? Navy? Its own postal service?
Would the Quebec Ghetto expect to do business with the rest of Canada? Or with China ? Egypt?
What if Canada refuses to do business with the Quebec ghetto?
What about travel ? Tourism? Business? Will Quebec have its own passports and visas for travel outside of the ghetto?
Would the Quebec ghetto cover all the Medicare benefits we get by being Canadians?
Would the French Only Quebec ghetto shut out non-French radio, TV, Internet - the way China shuts out the free world ?
We are united by the efforts of those who dare to stand up and speak out against tyranny.
We are united by the railroad and by our rivers and lakes and forests and mountains.
We are united by the CBC, although it has seen prouder days, And we are united by Medicare that allows the frail and the ill to recover and heal and to live to contribute to the happiness of their children and grandchildren and their communities.
We are united by our diversity. Our freedom of religion, Our open society. No standard puppets are we. All the languages, all the cultures, all the delicious foods and music, give Canada a richness and freedom unknown elsewhere. You can be yourself in Canada as long as you respect human rights and do not impose your beliefs on others.
There are those who would love to tear Canada apart. They believe they would enjoy chomping on a sliver of the pie while hiding behind the wall and the wire fencing. They wouldn't mind leaving all the good stuff to the rest of the people of Canada.
No sane person would give up a great, free, multi-faceted homeland for a ghetto. But then again, there are always greedy people who manipulate the ignorant and naive and the sheep will adore them and obey them.
We dare not forget Germany in the 1930's We are not immune. In the early 1970's we came close to revolution and innocent people were maimed and murdered in Quebec. It can happen because there are always greedy bigots and fools.
Any rational person can see how ridiculous Quebec separatism is. Obviously it can't happen unless Ottawa and the rest of Canada allow it to happen.
05/27/13: Escaped prisoner alert issued for Quebec.
Police are looking for 56-year-old Jean-Pierre Duclos who fled around 2 p.m. today while being escorted from the minimum security Ste-Anne-des-Plaines federal penitentiary to the Verdun Hospital.
Provincial police are helping in the search for Duclos, who is five-foot-seven, has greenish-blue eyes, light brown hair, and a scar on his right cheek. He was not handcuffed while being escorted to hospital, nor was he wearing a prison uniform.
I watch The Lawrence Welk Show - I listen to The Lawrence Welk Show - and I remember us - Cliff and me - Mr. Nostalgia and The Sheba, and I sing along to the old songs Cliff and I used to sing together - and I weep. Cliff has been gone twenty-one years and I still love him and miss him as if he were here with me this morning.
Time and age robbed me of the man I adored, and then Dawn McSweeney stole every precious thing Cliff left me.
And the Montreal Police helped Dawn McSweeney rob me.
All I have left are the memories, and the ache in my heart, and the disappointment in Canada - the country that people consider a "Just Society"... the country that has stood by all these years and allowed a criminal to rob me and destroy my family and get away with her crimes.
Marlene Jennings,
Member of Parliament
and
Quebec's Deputy Police Ethics Commissioner,
stated at two public meetings in Montreal in 2008,
"Mrs. Carter's rights were violated three times."
But from the day of the robbery, October 7, 1996, to this very day, May 25, 2013, no one in authority has been willing to help me get justice, to return all the precious belongings, the mementoes, the gifts, the property, the money, the jewellery Dawn McSweeney stole from me and from my family. Our lives are in nobody's "jurisdiction."
If Dawn McSweeney had robbed a bank, you can bet the authorities would have taken action. But my family does not matter in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. We are not rich or important. But I am persistent and ravenously hungry for justice and the return of my precious belongings.
My battle for justice has cost me my health. Pleading for justice day and night, week after week, month after month, year after year, my health was destroyed. I am fighting cancer, fighting for my life, while I still fight for justice day and night - for myself, for my family and for all the victims of criminals, victims of the police and victims of those we elect to protect us... who don't. In this case, the Montreal Police helped the criminals to rob me and my family and they have been covering up the crimes involving their own officers since then.
Nothing can bring my darling Cliff back to me, but one honourable person can bring back Cliff's Deputy Sheriff badge, his diamond ring, his trademark grey Stetson Fedora, our wedding portrait and everything else Dawn McSweeney stole. I will gladly pay that person $5,000.
This below article is about and written by Vanessa Pearce who I interviewed for a 2 hour special radio broadcast. The show can be listened to or downloaded here: http://unboundradio.com/exposing-the-truth-2266/
I was born in India, but I do not know my actual birth date. I always felt strongly and have fleeting memories that I was well loved and cared for in the early part of my life. Around the age of 3 or 4 years old while I was sleeping, a woman stole me from my bed and my family in the night. The details are too much to go into but this link will tell the story of my early years http://www.missingindiankids.com/searching/vanessa/
I then arrived at Holy Angels Convent in Thiruvananthapuram Kerala India in 1974. I was taken very good care of by Catholic Nuns while I lived there. The nuns called me Latha until I was baptized and named Mary Magdalen. The years that I lived at the convent were happy memories for me. I was fed, clothed and educated. We slept on mats, and we did not have a lot of material things, but I was happy. I was a lighter skinned young girl than the other children there. They would call me cat, but it was never in a mean way that I felt I was being bullied or anything. I was never sexually or physically abused there. One time I remember pulling myself up and looking over the wall of the convent and saw a house next door with a wonderful swimming pool–when I saw the pool, I wanted one so bad. After that, I went into the huge shower stall and plugged the drain with a cloth and turned on both shower heads full blast so that I could go swimming. For that I got in trouble. The nun tried not to laugh when she went to spank me. Another nun, Sister Mary had a little dog which was a Pomeranian named Bruni. Bruni was my constant shadow, slept with me every night, and was a constant comfort for me.
One day a man came to take individual photos of a few of us children who were at the orphanage, and I was one of them. A picture that was taken of me had a write up which said Latha likes reading so much that she picks up whatever paper or book she finds and reads. She is clever at studies. She is fond of singing and dancing. On the whole she is a bright child and good at sports. I was then informed a few months later that I was going to be adopted to a wonderful loving family in Canada. Then the preparations started for me to be adopted to Canada. There were five of us girls being adopted out at the same time. We were taken to Madras by train and taken before a judge for the adoption to happen.. we returned to the convent to wait.
Little did I know then…. nightmares were dreams too
Then the day came for four of us girls to be sent to Canada. Sister Mary then took us by plane to Madras where we stayed one night in a convent there. The next morning we were taken to the Madras airport. Before Sister Mary before said goodbye to us, she pulled me aside and told me that all my dreams were going to come true in Canada. Little did I know then…. nightmares were dreams too. We were then put into the care of a woman with a baby on the flight to Canada. This woman accompanied us all the way to Toronto, Ontario where she had reached her destination to deliver the baby to a couple there. We were then put under the care of the stewardesses for the remainder of the trip to Calgary, Alberta where we were going to be met by the families that had adopted us.
It was night when we arrived in Calgary, and we were met there by the families who had adopted us. I was adopted along with another girl to the same family. We stayed one night in Calgary at a hotel. We were so excited we kept looking at all the lights outside of the hotel. I was beaten by my adoptive mother for that and was told in a mean manner to go to bed. That was my first experience of the evilness of my adoptive parents. The next morning we were taken to McDonald's and fed an egg McMuffin or breakfast. My body was not used to Western fast food, and I began to vomit as I was eating it. Mrs. Pearce the adopting mother, then started shoving it down my throat telling me I could be starving in India.
We then left for their house in B.C. The Pearce family lived just outside of a small heritage city called Nelson, B.C. I was given the birthdate May 18, 1969, even though I have no idea what my real birthdate is– so many people take this for granted. Mr. and Mrs. Pearce then changed my name to Vanessa.
I quickly learned and experienced that Mrs. Pearce was a cold and abusive woman and should not have been allowed to have children–let alone animals. I was literally kept in the attic of their home. The attic was freezing cold in the winter and stifling hot in the summer. I could barley even stand up in the room. There was a single bed in there, and nothing else–and I mean nothing. Not even a light. I was not allowed in the living room except to clean like a maid. Not allowed to watch t.v, touch the fridge or stove. I was not allowed to get out of bed until I was told I could. Everything was very controlled in the household by Mrs. Pearce. All I can say is, prisoners lived better than me. I was always scared and jumpy because I never knew when I would get a beating for no reason.
This is when his sexual abuse of me began and I had no safe place to turn.
In the early months even though Mrs. Pearce was cruel, her husband Mr. Pearce was kind to me and would give me books and food when Mrs. Pearce would deny me food for periods of time. The books helped me escape, even temporarily, from my living hell. By being kind to me and providing me books and food, Mr. Pearce earned my trust. Then all of a sudden one day while I was allowed to play the piano he came behind me and grabbed me and he had an erection and started humping against me. This is when his sexual abuse of me began. I had no safe place to turn. Sleep became my only friend–it was the only time I could escape and forget the horror I was going through.
School was not much better. The surrounding communities were predominantly white. I was bullied by children at school for being of a different color than them. I really started to believe that there was something wrong with me and that I was truly unlovable. This especially rang true when Christmas came. All I heard from kids at school was about Santa Claus and how he loved all children. Yet on Christmas day all I found was a note in my stocking saying that I was a bad girl and if I was a better girl the next year he might bring me something. So, I thought even Santa Claus hated me. I felt I had no place to be safe except when I fell asleep.
Mrs. Pearce dragged me by my hair into the attic and left me there to die
I always felt cold and hungry and I missed India–the convent, the nuns, the warm weather, and being treated kindly. I was finally able to get a letter off to Sister Mary begging her to bring me back to India. She sent a letter back saying she could not bring me back and to say my hail Mary's. After receiving this response from the one person whom I still trusted and thought could keep me safe, I lost all hope. After being beaten again for unknown reasons, I found a can of turpentine and drank it and began to vomit. Mrs. Pearce dragged me by my hair into the attic and left me there to die. Both Mr. and Mrs. Pearce left abruptly in their car. By some miracle I did not die.
Many years later (into my adulthood), I learned from receiving paperwork under the Canadian Freedom of Information and Privacy Act that the Pearce family had been found unfit to adopt me. The detailed documentation said the Pearces had applied to adopt and had not been approved. The government agency's (Ministry of Human Resources***), documents also said and I quote "We perceive Mrs. Pearce to be a very controlled , self insulated person who works hard at projecting an image of strength and competence. We cant help but speculate about which might happen if her frustration threshold is exceeded. What we are saying is that her mode of interacting strongly suggests a facade of competence/ integration and that basically we perceive a fragile personality where congruences, negative and sexual feelings etc.. are repressed into the unconscious. Her cold unaffectionate nature, her difficulty and discomfort in discussing feelings certainly suggests much repression."
"Sometimes a system defeats us all"
Due to the Pearce family having money and importance in the community in various facets, they were allowed to the proceed with the adoption. Then there was a letter written by the regional manger to his boss, from the same government agency, after this decision had been made to permit my adoption and I quote, " Although the decision on placement has been made which is contrary to our recommendation, I do want to acknowledge your concern regarding the probability of outcomes and to say I share these concerns. I also want to say that I do appreciate the time and the quality of effort that you have put into this application. Sometimes a system defeats us all!"
At the age of 14 there were people in the community that knew I was being abused, and one of my girlfriends tried to help me and I went to stay at her house. My adoptive family called the police and when the police arrived my friend's place, her parents told the police that I was being abused and that they were not going to let me go back to the adopted home. The police then called the Ministry of Human Resources, and I was then put into foster care by the decision of a Ministry official. One of my girlfriends Tina decided to do fostering so that they could keep me. They were very good to me, and I was able to stay there for a while. Unfortunately for them and me, they had a lot of tragedy in their life with them losing their oldest daughter in a car accident.
I was then moved to another home, but I was not happy there and just started hanging on the streets with friends. Then, again, I was moved to another home and the woman there was completely dysfunctional. There were drugs coming in and out of the home, scary looking characters coming and going. During this time I was raped by a man that was known to my foster mother after he offered me a ride home. He was also well known to the police for raping young girls and had a history of that. I became a psychological and emotional mess after this. My mental and emotional state was compounded by the fact that I was now also going to have to go to court over the sexual abuse by my adopted dad. The Crown, (Government) had charged him.
I was then moved into a "special" care foster home which was outside Nelson. Special, meaning a foster home that helped with "troubled" children. The special care foster mother, Joyce Hillstead was single with grown children that lived on the property. She also owned a convenience store and gas station. She was a very controlling woman. After having been there for about a month, the adult son, Jeff invited me to his trailer. I was offered free alcohol which was any child at 16 would jump at. I then drank so much that I became sick, vomited in the bathroom, and passed out in the hallway. When I came to, I was in his bed, now naked, and he was having sex with me. I then slipped into unconsciousness again.
Due to my previous experience with being abused in my adopted home, all this dysfunction and abuse just became normal to me. I recognized a dominant controlling woman, and her son being a wimp just like Mr. Pearce. This sexual abuse went on quite some time until I started bleeding heavily for three months and became very sick. Then I was taken for an ultrasound and found out that I was pregnant with twins. I was miscarrying one of the twins and that there was also a large tumor in my uterus. Emergency surgery was performed right away to save my life. The Ministry then learnt what was going on in the foster home. I also learnt around the same time, I was not the first foster girl he had been having sex with in the special care home. The only exception is, I was the only one he had gotten pregnant. I should have been removed from there right away because I was not in the frame of mind to be making such decisions due to my past abuse.
Again into my adulthood, more paperwork involving The Ministry surfaced. Two other Ministry case workers had found this family to have problems and they had suggested to my case worker that I should be removed from the house right away. The advisement was ignored. I remained in the house.
I then became pregnant again and then it was decided by The Ministry and the family, that I would be married to the adult son of the foster mother. My case worker signed over "guardianship" of me to this family and essentially "washed their hands of me".
More incriminating information
Few months before the wedding The Ministry's law firm sent a letter with articles from the lawyers weekly giving my case worker a warning of a former foster girl who had sued the Crown for a failed adoption placement, being sexually abused in a foster home, and that she was not able to give consent. Of course this was ignored by my case worker and the wedding took place.
After the marriage my life became a true living hell. I had no family to turn to for support or help. I would be locked up in the trailer and abused by members of this twisted family who would tell me that my biological family had sacrificed me to the devil. They tied me up one time and poured hot oil on me to do an exorcism.
Once my son Matthew was born and I arrived back to the property I lived on with the other members of my husbands family the sister and family were over and they forced me on to the couch with my son. The sister of my husband, Jessica yelled at me saying that my son was cursed because he had long eyelashes and it was because I was a Jezebel. This horrifying abuse continued for a long time.
My husband was also, by this time, a physically abusive alcoholic. I finally could not take it any more and after being beaten by him again one night he went a put two bottles of over the counter sleeping pills in front of me and told me to kill myself and then left. I finally gave up and thought my life would always just be full of abuse and that things would never change so I took the two bottles of sleeping pills. This was in 1989. I then went and laid down in the bed and I knew I was about to die. I saw that tunnel with a light and it just kept getting brighter and brighter. All of a sudden my son Matthew who always slept through the night woke up and let out a scream which slammed me back into my body. I knew I had to live for him and could not leave him alone in this freakish hell. I crawled into the bathroom and started vomiting and blood started to fill up in the toilet. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital in Castlegar (about 40 minutes from the house). It seemed as though everyone in a position to help me thought I was the crazy one.
When the doctor came to see me I begged him to help me and told him I was being abused. I told him how I was being locked up and being beaten. He told me that I was going to be admitted to the psych ward in Trail (another 30 minutes away). I was terrified because everyone thought i was crazy. I made it to a payphone in the hallway and made a collect call to my foster parents who had been good to me a few years prior. They were already aware of the abuse I was going through so after talking to me they made a call to make sure I was not going to be committed to the psych ward. I was still sent to the Trail psychiatric unit for one night. While I was there, I was told that I was pregnant again. I told the psychiatrist about the abuse I was going through and asked for help. I simply could not have another baby under these circumstances. There was no help offered and the police were never even called. It seemed as though everyone in a position to help me thought I was the crazy one…. if they only knew the truth.
Instead I was sent back to this crazy family and then sent for counseling through The Ministry's mental health division. I told the counselor with my husband there about the abuse I was undergoing by his hands as well as members of his family. My husband sat there and admitted to abusing me. I then told the counselor that I could not have another baby under these circumstances. Again, I was not listened to and the decision was made for me, that I was keeping my baby and then that they were going to sterilize me after. Then after the birth of my son I was sterilized. I was only 21 years old. This is the wonderful country Canada that Sister Mary told me that all my dreams were going to come true, and yes the nightmare was continuing.
The abuse at the hands of my husband and the members of his family continued and I knew I had to find a way out.
Through the help of a friend, I was able to escape this family with my two boys who were 2 and 4 at the time. The next day after staying the night at my friend's place I went for a meeting with a case worker that I used to have. I told her everything I had gone through and she then went to The Ministry's case worker because my friend was not a case worker. She told them they had to help me because I had no family. They told her not to get involved and to stay away from me.. I couldn't understand why The Ministry wouldn't help me in my time of need.
I then was able to get a legal aid lawyer and file for divorce and for custody of my children. If I had known better I would never have gone back to Nelson and should have completely fled from the area with my children.
During the court case for my divorce, there was a lot of information that started coming out about this special care foster home. Other children who had been there as well as other people started to come forward with equally horrific stories as mine. The Ministry case workers knew they had to cover up this mess they created, and had to make sure this "can of worms" as they called it never was opened. They did everything in their power to start covering everything up, back-peddling, and to make me and my children look like the villains. More and more, they continued to look after their own best interests.
In October 1992, both my boys were sexually assaulted during their court-ordered weekend visit at their father's house–which was still on the same property as the foster home. The doctor that examined the children was very concerned and called the police as well as The Ministry. The doctor said the damage that was done to one of my sons anal area was compared to him taking a fall off a high story building and landing on a sharp object that went straight through his anal area. The older of my sons also told the doctor that it was his uncle, Ken Hillstead, who had done this to them. The police told me that the children did not have to go out for any more visits and to call the police if the uncle showed up at my door.
The doctor noticed a cigarette burn by my sons private area
Then overnight everything changed and I was told that my children would have to continue to go out for their weekend access and I had to let them go. (I was misled by the police the prior night as they were not fully aware of the court-ordered visits and I believed with the evidence they witnessed, they would back me up). This time after their access visit at their father's the doctor noticed a cigarette burn by my sons private area. I tried everything I could to protect my children but the police threatened to charge me with public mischief if I opened my mouth again about the abuse of my children even though there were doctors reports confirming this.
I told the police then to charge me because I was not going to keep quiet about the abuse my children were going through. The police backed off–their scare tactics weren't working on me. Then a week later when I was at the court house I had two credible sources tell me that the uncle who had raped my boys had been paid $60,000.00 tax free to become a drug informant. The uncle did not get charged for what he had done to my precious boys. Not long after this there was a massive drug bust and people that were known as this uncle's associates were arrested for drug trafficking. (coincidence? of a massive bust, or was the $60,000 paying off for officials?)
There continued to be reports of physical and sexual abuse of my children by my, now, ex-husband and members of his family made by professionals and non professionals but nothing was being done. The court-ordered visits still stood and I could not, for the life in me, get that order lifted. Instead the cover up continued. I was frustrated, angry, and hysterical at times that my sons were going through a similar hell I had gone through, that I had so desperately tried to protect them from. No one with authority to stop this sick and twisted abuse of my children would help! Eventually the school my children attended also made reports of physical abuse by the father and members of his family. My sons were apprehended and then the uncle who had raped my boys was allowed to pick the psychologist to come a do an assessment and report.
Dr. Peggy Koopman came and made a report saying the children were not being abused.
A woman by the name of Dr. Peggy Koopman came and made a report saying the children were not being abused and she even made up blatant lies. The professionals (doctors, teachers,etc….) who had been interviewed by her were so upset with what she said to them. Even though none of the abuse allegations had been made against me, or about me, all the compiled information about the ongoing abuse was used to take my children away from me.
There were all kinds of lies to make me look bad and for The Ministry to meet their agenda which was to cover up their ongoing incompetent actions regarding my case/situation, and to shut me up. It was easy for them to do this, as I had no family or true close friends for support. I felt so alone and felt like an outsider as I was a woman of colour in a predominantly white community. I was warned before bringing to the forefront, my children's abuse, to shut my mouth about it and if I didn't, The Ministry and the police would be sure to make my life even more miserable than what it already was.
I have gathered insurmountable documentation and evidence to back up everything I have stated here.
It was not until my oldest son, Matthew turned 14, he was legally able to make the choice along with my younger son to live with me. Last year (2012), had to be THE most difficult and most sad year in my life–my oldest son, Matthew died. The year before he died he told me that he wanted to sue The Ministry as well as the police for all the abuse that we had gone through. I made my son Matt a promise just to give me a little bit of time and that I would take care of it but my time ran out for him to witness the justice I had promised. This is the beginning of my promise to Matthew…..making this information public.
In 2006 I started advocating for adoptees and I continue to do so actively and passionately. I want to end the myth that adoption ALWAYS leads to a better life. It has to be recognised that like aboriginal children who were taken away from their parents and forced into residential schools… abused international adoptees have also been taken from their countries, lose their culture, and many face sexual, physical and mental abuse as well.
In closing… that special care foster home that I had to endure for so many years, was eventually shut down due to the poor and illegal conduct of the special care foster mothers adult children.
Over the number of years fighting for justice for me and my children, I have gathered insurmountable documentation and evidence to back up everything I have stated here. I am not one to sling mud without proof. The racism, the illegal adoption to unfit parents, the years of abuse many children suffer at the hands of our abusers must stop! In addition, the abuse by the corrupt and incompetent system in place to protect children and families needs to be exposed for its drastic shortcomings so that it does not happen to anyone else. This is also my mission. Those that have done, and continue to do wrong to indefensible children shall be held accountable, if it the last thing I do here on earth. I would like to finish with a quote from Frederick Douglas "The limits of tyrants are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they oppress."
*** The government agency that handles adoptions, and is in charge of children welfare in British Columbia, is now called: The Ministry of Child and Family Development —-
Vanessa is still seeking legal help, media attention, and any information that could help her find her parents. If you are interested in helping you can contact us via this link: http://www.exposingthetruth.co/contact/ and we will forward your message to her, we are somewhat acting as a proxy to protect Vanessa, for more information listen to the podcast with her that is listed at the top of this article.
Through the centuries tyrants of religion have slaughtered millions of innocent people and animals in God's name.
No human being has the right to tell anyone else what to believe about the Creator. No person knows. No person can know. The Creator is far beyond our limited ability to comprehend.
Freedom of religion also means freedom from religions - official, organized religions - and only tyrants and monsters dare to impose their will, their beliefs, upon anyone else. And they have for centuries.
Searching for some understanding of the infinite, I think God is either everything or nothing.
It is childish to believe in a limited God, a small human-like God, who thinks and behaves like an Earth person. But that's what most organized religions teach - a God made in man's image with all our human characteristics and qualities.
I don't see the Creator of infinite galaxies and atoms sitting up on a cloud above the Empire State building taking notes about our mistakes, deciding who should live and who should die, who should be plunged into eternal fires and who should sit basking in the warmth of His glory ... "His" - because, of course, the Creator of endless universes and all life must be like a human with a male appendage.
Since the universe is so huge and complex, I believe there is an Originator - an Intelligence that started everything and keeps everything running.
I suspect that "God" is everything and everywhere - Omnipotent - all powerful; Omniscient - all knowing; - and Omnipresent - everywhere.
If, "in the beginning" there was nothing - perhaps a vacuum - and then there was something, then everything must be a part of that Something we call "God".
My best guess is that we are all like cells in God's "body". And everyone and every thing has a function, a role, a purpose.
I think each person has work to do, because each of us is a part of the "body" and the mind of the Creator. I suspect that we are not merely members of a church or a synagogue or a mosque, or a family, or a race, - but cells in the body of the Originator and Sustainer of everything.
