I Stayed Silent for 14 Years…

I Stayed Silent for 14 Years…
I lay low, quiet for a couple of hours, wai�ng to make sure he was truly and deeply asleep. It was just a�er 2 in
the morning.
It was a cold rainy evening when Pak Man insisted on taking me for a
motorcycle ride. Mama thought nothing about it; to her it was just her new
husband’s way of ge�ng to know me be�er. Down the pebbled kampong
streets we rode, Pak Man, the local gangster head, at the front and me, a frail
eleven year old at the back. We looked like any father and daughter in any
kampong around the country.
In the dark with nowhere to go, I fled the house along with his car keys, a kitchen knife, and both our handphones. I stayed away from the roads, instead treading through the palm oil planta�on, fields and paddy fields
un�l daybreak. When it was bright enough, I stood at the roadside trying to hitch a ride. Someone gave me a
ride and I remember ge�ng on a bus a few hours later. The bus stopped at a place, and when I get out I recognise it. It was Bu�erworth. I followed the stream of crowds to the ferry.
When we returned home a short 30 minutes or so later, I heard Mama asking
me where we had gone and why were my clothes muddy. I ran to the
bathroom, not stopping to answer her, to wash the dirt off of me. To wash away
what that man had done to me.
Some�mes, even though I am safe and away from him, I am afraid to close my eyes lest he walks through the
shadows and takes me back to that rainy evening in the jungle. But the first taste of relief that I felt that day as I
stood on the upper deck of the ferry gives me courage to live.
Written by Yasmin Bathamanathan for WCC’s Doodle for Change project on survivors’ stories.
What had he done to me? As I lay in bed that night, I replayed the events of that
30 minutes in my head over and over again. I knew it was something wrong
because it made me feel dirty; like my insides were dirty. And dead.
Editor’s Note: WCC has been providing counselling and court support for the client for over 3 years.
The stepfather has been charged in court on counts of sexual assault. The criminal case against her
stepfather is ongoing.
He rode into the small jungle at the end of the kampong. I asked him why we
were going there but he ignored me. A li�le way in, he parked his
motorbike and instructed me to follow him. We walked un�l we reached a thick bush of shrubbery. The sun was
se�ng and all sorts of shadows danced in that rain-pelted jungle.
Squid
Noor Mahnun Mohamed
Suddenly he grabbed hold of me and threw me on the muddy ground before kneeling in front of me. Through
the heavy rain and dancing shadows I saw him reach for something in his pants. He yanked my track bo�oms
from my waist and I felt his heavy hands push my knees apart. There was a sharp pain in between my legs as he
forced that thing into me. In that rain-pelted jungle I begged him to stop, to show mercy on me and let me go,
which only spurred him on to ram into me harder and harder. It seemed to last forever, and when he was done,
he made me promise not to tell anyone, not even mama. “No one would believe the lies of a fatherless 11 year
old anyway,” he laughed, his each word a dagger that cut somewhere deep inside me.
This artwork was shown at the WCC’s Doodle for Change exhibition.
The squid is a metaphor for a spineless creature capable of a
ravaging grasp.
For 14 years I kept quiet.
14 years in which he used me once a month un�l I went to secondary school where he would come to me a few
�mes a week; 14 years in which he hit my head, slammed my body to the wall when I dared to say no; 14 years
in which he married my mother’s younger sister; 14 years in which he put two babies in my mother’s womb; 14
years in which he followed me even as I went away to university; 14 years in which my body was not my own; 14
years in which the seven or however many seeds he planted in me flushed out in the blood the doctor’s pill
forced; 14 years in which I lived in fear for my life even though the shame was so unbearable I wanted my life to
end. 14 years of wan�ng to run away to safety; 14 years of wai�ng.
WCC Surviving Court
Video: Available on WCC
website for FREE!
But 14 years was all I was willing stay silent.
Do know of anyone who has to turn up in court as a witness and needs
to understand how the court process works? WCC Surviving Court is now
That morning Pak Man took me to a town 30 minutes away from where
we lived, to a house that he said we were going to move into. I knew
what he had in mind but I was resolute. I let him have his way when we
get there, but when he started touching me again a few hours later, I
made quite the fuss. It some�mes put him off when he is �red, and sure
enough it worked this �me around. He stormed off into one of the
bedrooms angrily and fell asleep almost immediately.
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available for download from our website
www.wccpenang.org It is in
four languages: Malay, English, Chinese and Tamil.
This ten segment cartoon video hosted by well-known TV personality,
Sarimah Ibrahim, guides the user through a step- by- step process from
when a police report is made to the process of a court trial.
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