snowbird
01-21-2008, 10:47 AM
..... Because at least with death there is closure, in this case, there appears to be none......
I know in one discussion on another thread someone did suggest that perhaps 'murder' was the worse possible crime that could befell a victim or their family; I on the other hand surmised that 'there are some things worse that death'. This is the type of situation I was eliding to.
(source Trinidad Guardian)
Monday 21st January, 2008
http://www.guardian.co.tt/news11.html
Kidnap victim still can't smile
Former school teacher Debbie Ali in deep concentration. Photos: Karla Ramoo
BY GEISHA KOWLESSAR
Hers is a never-ending battle. It’s a battle to purge her soul of the many demons that have invaded it.
Kidnapped on her birthday one year ago, from the sanctuary of her Couva home and released 14 days afterwards, writer and former school teacher Debbie Ali continues to endure emotional and psychological anguish.
But the pain has taken on a domino effect, confessed Ali in an interview.
Even those close to the petite woman were not spared.
Ali’s husband Ashmead, a pilot, has been forced to grapple with his own nightmares.
Sleepless nights and disturbing images of his wife crying out have become all too familiar with him.
Ali’s children—nine-year-old Nadeem and seven-year-old Ansara—have been robbed of their childhood.
Wretched past
Constantly aware of their mother’s ordeal, Nadeem and Ansara were forcefully catapulted into the role of “adults.”
Mindful of the evils of the world, the children live in fear—continuously looking over their shoulder for the “bad men” who hurt their mother.
Theirs is a story of a family haunted by a wretched past.
A preamble to Debbie Ali’s book on her kidnapping experience.
As they struggle slowly to piece together their broken lives and hopefully attain solace, the future, Ali believes, appears not all grim.
“I have to believe I will heal. I have to believe my family will heal and that my children will again lead normal lives and be children again.
“That’s my saving grace—belief, faith and everlasting hope. One day I will be whole again.”
A string of shattered lives.
This has been the effect of Ali’s abduction. Some, she said, were on the mend.
Others, however, including herself, have not found the strength to crawl completely out of the pit of despair.
Prodding questions, Ali said, had continued to beset her thoughts.
How can a woman who survived an abduction learn to be herself again? How can she learn to smile again?
How can she look in the mirror without feeling stained and guilty?
For Ali, the quest to seek such answers has been long and painful.
“There are times when I look at my bedroom door and I sit in the corner of the bed.
“Then I curl myself as tightly as possible into a very small ball...almost like a porcupine.
“I just remain there for hours. That makes me feel a little safe,” she said softly.
Plagued by severe bouts of depression, Ali has even found it impossible to smile again.
“My son asked me one day: ‘Mom, why don’t you smile any more.’
“I cried for hours and hours. My heart is torn.”
But flashbacks of the kidnapping have not been the only disturbing factors.
A voice, the sudden screech of a tyre, a particular smell and even the barking of a pitbull conjure images that Ali yearns desperately to forget.
“I remember driving on the highway and I heard a voice similar to one of the kidnappers.
“I immediately pulled aside and tried to stop myself from shaking.
“I got out of the car and vomited. I continued to drive, then I got out and vomited again,” Ali said, as tears brimmed her alluring brown eyes.
Even a simple task as driving has turned into a ghoulish experience for the young mother.
“A few times while I was driving I could not remember where I was going.
“I even had to remember the highway that I was on.”
In one particular instance, Ali said she was just one street away from her house and was unable to recognise her own neighbourhood.
“Sometimes my memory would just go blank, even for the simplest of things.”
Difficult year
She continues to shower praises on God that her life was spared.
But facing her family, friends and the world again has been tumultuous for Ali.
“The only reason I got through this year was by literally getting through one minute at a time.
“The sheer grace of God has saved me,” Ali said.
Not yet back out to work, the mother of two spends most of her time “distracting herself.”
Ali’s day is filled with juggling errands, dropping her children off to school and, most importantly, seeking her own space to find inner peace.
But Ali’s quest to quell her fears has left her psychologically-exhausted.
“The distraction worked for the first couple of months.
“But I never had that space to grieve, to vent.
“Today, I still don’t have that space, and it’s becoming more and more unbearable.”
So unbearable has it been that she feels stifled.
“Now, I feel a sense of just wanting to be alone, so I can deal with this pain in my own way without having to think of protecting those around me.
“There were a lot of times I wanted to scream while I was held captive, but during those 14 days I wasn’t allowed to.
“I still want to scream, but I find that I cannot.”
The aftermath of Ali’s kidnapping has also stripped her of a sense of worthiness.
“What continues to save me is how God sees me...as a child who is pure, loved—and sacred.
“I have to always remind myself that I am not less of a person than before.”
They don’t view the world with childlike innocence.
Loss of innocence
They don’t enjoy a family outing or even walking through their neighbourhood without being apprehensive.
They are always on guard.
Nadeem and Ansara know all too well that evil is real and can befall anyone at any time.
“What my kidnapping has done to my children I will never forgive, because it has taken away a lot of their innocence and a lot of their childhood,” Ali said with a mixture of anguish and wrath.
“My children view life as always having a constant danger and they are always on the lookout for that danger.”
But every time Ali looks at her little ones and sees their turmoil, her heart is “broken all over again.”
“I remember we were in the car and another car passed close to mine.
“My son became frightened and he immediately pulled his sister down, because he thought we were in danger.
“Instances like those fill my entire body with pain...pain at seeing that my children have been transformed into something other than children.”
And even the school environment has offered little security to Nadeem.
“He feels safe when he’s always within the sight of the teacher.
“He does not venture by the gate or at the back of the compound. He stays exactly in the middle,” his mother said.
But the worse was yet to come.
During the last year, both Nadeem and Ansara suffered emotional breakdowns.
So erratic was their behaviour that the paediatrician recommended they be placed on strong medication.
“Thank God, their breakdowns occurred at different times, because I don’t know what I would have done.
“Nadeem and Ansara display violent outbursts coupled with loud screaming. They would just be very hysteric,” Ali said.
At that time, Ali and her children were staying by her mother.
But immediately after moving back to their Couva home, Nadeem and Ansara began to display “normal” behaviour.
“That stabilised them, because in their minds they felt displaced.
“Once they were back in their own rooms and with their stuff they were comfortable.”
Always on guard
Having a three-inch knife in one’s possession may seem far from lethal.
But not for Ali.
“I always carry it in my right hand. People don’t notice it, and that’s how I want it.
“And I know exactly how to use it if I’m in danger,” she said.
The small weapon, with an intricately- carved wooden handle, has given Ali a considerable sense of safety.
Even her children feel safe when they see their mother holding the knife.
“If Nadeem and Ansara become worried, I put out the knife and show it to them.
“That helps them calm down.”
Writing often acts as a balm for a tattered soul.
But Ali hopes to pen her experience—not so much for her own healing—but for others.
She has already began drafting her first book about her experience.
Titled “The Journey,” Ali said, however, writing about her ordeal was not the antidote she has so desperately sought.
“Writing this book has provided therapy. It has helped me to confront some issues, but it has nothing to do with healing.
“I am writing this book to help others. This is a detailed account of what to do and what not to do during a kidnapping.
“It’s almost like a manual,” Ali said.
Her second book, yet to be written, but already called “Barefeet,” seeks to reveal more intimate details of Ali’s crucible.
“I don’t know how to enjoy life any more.
“When I get home I don’t know how to smile any more and I don’t know how to teach myself to do that.”
Apart from her expected tomes, the young woman has aspirations to establish an organisation to lend support to kidnap victims.
But although such a structure has already been implemented by Non-Governmental Agencies (NGOs), Ali laments that lack of professional staff and funding rendered it almost non-existent.
“It is difficult to keep the organisation alive, because there is no money to employ a full-time psychologist.
“Most victims in dire need of counselling cannot afford private services.
“And they are left with no other choice but to die a little each day.”
Police—no leads
To date, no arrests have been made in connection with Ali’s kidnapping.
Officers of the Anti-Kidnapping Squad said although the investigation had remained open, “there was no evidence” to lay charges.
For Ali, this has only added insult to injury.
“You can’t even get a sense of justice. You go through something extremely horrible, and at the end of the day there is no justice.”
According to Ali, she has since lost all communication with the police.
“I don’t even bother to call, and they themselves have stopped calling.
“It seems my kidnapping has been registered as just another crime statistic.”
I know in one discussion on another thread someone did suggest that perhaps 'murder' was the worse possible crime that could befell a victim or their family; I on the other hand surmised that 'there are some things worse that death'. This is the type of situation I was eliding to.
(source Trinidad Guardian)
Monday 21st January, 2008
http://www.guardian.co.tt/news11.html
Kidnap victim still can't smile
Former school teacher Debbie Ali in deep concentration. Photos: Karla Ramoo
BY GEISHA KOWLESSAR
Hers is a never-ending battle. It’s a battle to purge her soul of the many demons that have invaded it.
Kidnapped on her birthday one year ago, from the sanctuary of her Couva home and released 14 days afterwards, writer and former school teacher Debbie Ali continues to endure emotional and psychological anguish.
But the pain has taken on a domino effect, confessed Ali in an interview.
Even those close to the petite woman were not spared.
Ali’s husband Ashmead, a pilot, has been forced to grapple with his own nightmares.
Sleepless nights and disturbing images of his wife crying out have become all too familiar with him.
Ali’s children—nine-year-old Nadeem and seven-year-old Ansara—have been robbed of their childhood.
Wretched past
Constantly aware of their mother’s ordeal, Nadeem and Ansara were forcefully catapulted into the role of “adults.”
Mindful of the evils of the world, the children live in fear—continuously looking over their shoulder for the “bad men” who hurt their mother.
Theirs is a story of a family haunted by a wretched past.
A preamble to Debbie Ali’s book on her kidnapping experience.
As they struggle slowly to piece together their broken lives and hopefully attain solace, the future, Ali believes, appears not all grim.
“I have to believe I will heal. I have to believe my family will heal and that my children will again lead normal lives and be children again.
“That’s my saving grace—belief, faith and everlasting hope. One day I will be whole again.”
A string of shattered lives.
This has been the effect of Ali’s abduction. Some, she said, were on the mend.
Others, however, including herself, have not found the strength to crawl completely out of the pit of despair.
Prodding questions, Ali said, had continued to beset her thoughts.
How can a woman who survived an abduction learn to be herself again? How can she learn to smile again?
How can she look in the mirror without feeling stained and guilty?
For Ali, the quest to seek such answers has been long and painful.
“There are times when I look at my bedroom door and I sit in the corner of the bed.
“Then I curl myself as tightly as possible into a very small ball...almost like a porcupine.
“I just remain there for hours. That makes me feel a little safe,” she said softly.
Plagued by severe bouts of depression, Ali has even found it impossible to smile again.
“My son asked me one day: ‘Mom, why don’t you smile any more.’
“I cried for hours and hours. My heart is torn.”
But flashbacks of the kidnapping have not been the only disturbing factors.
A voice, the sudden screech of a tyre, a particular smell and even the barking of a pitbull conjure images that Ali yearns desperately to forget.
“I remember driving on the highway and I heard a voice similar to one of the kidnappers.
“I immediately pulled aside and tried to stop myself from shaking.
“I got out of the car and vomited. I continued to drive, then I got out and vomited again,” Ali said, as tears brimmed her alluring brown eyes.
Even a simple task as driving has turned into a ghoulish experience for the young mother.
“A few times while I was driving I could not remember where I was going.
“I even had to remember the highway that I was on.”
In one particular instance, Ali said she was just one street away from her house and was unable to recognise her own neighbourhood.
“Sometimes my memory would just go blank, even for the simplest of things.”
Difficult year
She continues to shower praises on God that her life was spared.
But facing her family, friends and the world again has been tumultuous for Ali.
“The only reason I got through this year was by literally getting through one minute at a time.
“The sheer grace of God has saved me,” Ali said.
Not yet back out to work, the mother of two spends most of her time “distracting herself.”
Ali’s day is filled with juggling errands, dropping her children off to school and, most importantly, seeking her own space to find inner peace.
But Ali’s quest to quell her fears has left her psychologically-exhausted.
“The distraction worked for the first couple of months.
“But I never had that space to grieve, to vent.
“Today, I still don’t have that space, and it’s becoming more and more unbearable.”
So unbearable has it been that she feels stifled.
“Now, I feel a sense of just wanting to be alone, so I can deal with this pain in my own way without having to think of protecting those around me.
“There were a lot of times I wanted to scream while I was held captive, but during those 14 days I wasn’t allowed to.
“I still want to scream, but I find that I cannot.”
The aftermath of Ali’s kidnapping has also stripped her of a sense of worthiness.
“What continues to save me is how God sees me...as a child who is pure, loved—and sacred.
“I have to always remind myself that I am not less of a person than before.”
They don’t view the world with childlike innocence.
Loss of innocence
They don’t enjoy a family outing or even walking through their neighbourhood without being apprehensive.
They are always on guard.
Nadeem and Ansara know all too well that evil is real and can befall anyone at any time.
“What my kidnapping has done to my children I will never forgive, because it has taken away a lot of their innocence and a lot of their childhood,” Ali said with a mixture of anguish and wrath.
“My children view life as always having a constant danger and they are always on the lookout for that danger.”
But every time Ali looks at her little ones and sees their turmoil, her heart is “broken all over again.”
“I remember we were in the car and another car passed close to mine.
“My son became frightened and he immediately pulled his sister down, because he thought we were in danger.
“Instances like those fill my entire body with pain...pain at seeing that my children have been transformed into something other than children.”
And even the school environment has offered little security to Nadeem.
“He feels safe when he’s always within the sight of the teacher.
“He does not venture by the gate or at the back of the compound. He stays exactly in the middle,” his mother said.
But the worse was yet to come.
During the last year, both Nadeem and Ansara suffered emotional breakdowns.
So erratic was their behaviour that the paediatrician recommended they be placed on strong medication.
“Thank God, their breakdowns occurred at different times, because I don’t know what I would have done.
“Nadeem and Ansara display violent outbursts coupled with loud screaming. They would just be very hysteric,” Ali said.
At that time, Ali and her children were staying by her mother.
But immediately after moving back to their Couva home, Nadeem and Ansara began to display “normal” behaviour.
“That stabilised them, because in their minds they felt displaced.
“Once they were back in their own rooms and with their stuff they were comfortable.”
Always on guard
Having a three-inch knife in one’s possession may seem far from lethal.
But not for Ali.
“I always carry it in my right hand. People don’t notice it, and that’s how I want it.
“And I know exactly how to use it if I’m in danger,” she said.
The small weapon, with an intricately- carved wooden handle, has given Ali a considerable sense of safety.
Even her children feel safe when they see their mother holding the knife.
“If Nadeem and Ansara become worried, I put out the knife and show it to them.
“That helps them calm down.”
Writing often acts as a balm for a tattered soul.
But Ali hopes to pen her experience—not so much for her own healing—but for others.
She has already began drafting her first book about her experience.
Titled “The Journey,” Ali said, however, writing about her ordeal was not the antidote she has so desperately sought.
“Writing this book has provided therapy. It has helped me to confront some issues, but it has nothing to do with healing.
“I am writing this book to help others. This is a detailed account of what to do and what not to do during a kidnapping.
“It’s almost like a manual,” Ali said.
Her second book, yet to be written, but already called “Barefeet,” seeks to reveal more intimate details of Ali’s crucible.
“I don’t know how to enjoy life any more.
“When I get home I don’t know how to smile any more and I don’t know how to teach myself to do that.”
Apart from her expected tomes, the young woman has aspirations to establish an organisation to lend support to kidnap victims.
But although such a structure has already been implemented by Non-Governmental Agencies (NGOs), Ali laments that lack of professional staff and funding rendered it almost non-existent.
“It is difficult to keep the organisation alive, because there is no money to employ a full-time psychologist.
“Most victims in dire need of counselling cannot afford private services.
“And they are left with no other choice but to die a little each day.”
Police—no leads
To date, no arrests have been made in connection with Ali’s kidnapping.
Officers of the Anti-Kidnapping Squad said although the investigation had remained open, “there was no evidence” to lay charges.
For Ali, this has only added insult to injury.
“You can’t even get a sense of justice. You go through something extremely horrible, and at the end of the day there is no justice.”
According to Ali, she has since lost all communication with the police.
“I don’t even bother to call, and they themselves have stopped calling.
“It seems my kidnapping has been registered as just another crime statistic.”