I was sexually abused at home and in my own bed by my stepfather. My mum refused to believe me, I was told by my mum not to tell anybody about my ordeal, but i did, and then I ended up in public care. I was rejected by relatives and refused by my community to accommodate me or to offer me care in a foster home. WHY?
I am a seventeen year old Muslim girl, and I would never let my name be published, but I pray to almighty Allah that nobody ever has to go through this ever again. At present I am living with non-Muslim foster carers because when I came into public care my local social services did not have any Muslim foster carer families who could offer a home to children like myself.
I have learnt that there are very few Muslim families that offer a home to Muslim children. Before I was placed with this family I was placed in a children's home. Surprisingly, I was not the only Muslim girl there; there was Turkish, Bengali, Somali, Indian and two Pakistani girls in the home. They all had different shocking stories to tell.
Anyway, my suffering started at the age of 10 when my real father died in a road accident. I wasn't old enough to understand fully why so many people had come to my house that day. My mother cried constantly and after time our relations left our home one by one, leaving my family to fight and face life all by ourselves.
It must have been a good two years for our house to get back to normal. My mum held an excellent job and was looking after us, and other relatives were a great help. Everything was normal, we had to learn to live without our father. My brother, who was seven years old, was great fun in our family. I loved those moments, they have now become precious assets for me.
It was my twelfth birthday, and I still had to go to school; I did not like it but my mum said I had to go as she was expecting visitors. When I returned from school the visitors had left but my uncle and my aunt, and some other elderly women from down the street were there, and everybody was happy; they were laughing and talking to each other and the whole environment in my house was different.
Suddenly, my aunt came to me and said you are a lucky girl, you are going to have a new daddy. I was shocked and really disappointed at that moment. I rushed to my mum and asked "What the heck is auntie talking about, are you really going to get married again?", my mother replied "Yes,...it is true". My mothers reply and decision was a real blow to me.
I was shocked that she had never mentioned or discussed this marriage with me before. That day I really let everyone know that I did not like the idea of her remarrying and letting a stranger into my home, and I declared war against my stepfather ...today I think that was my mistake...my big big mistake.
My stepfather never liked me since that day. In public he was very kind to me, in private and at home he treated me like dirt. My whole family knew I hated him. I was fourteen, almost fifthteen when I first realised he was touching me late at night. I tried to stop him everytime he approached me; I said "I'll scream if you come any closer to me".
I was not a poor 'bichari' type of girl who would just keep quite. I told my mum after a few days but she would not believe me, instead she believed him and thought that I was making false allegations because I did not like him. She advised me not to tell anyone but I did, as it was not her who was suffering, it was me. I could not let that devil continue. I did not listen to my mum and told my class teacher.
I am in foster care at the moment - I still have contact with my mum and my brother and other family members. They do not know why I am in public care - probably still wondering why I left home. My friend told me that it was the talk of the town that I had done a runner with my boyfriend - rumours spread by my stepfather. Some people think that I did not have a real father and my mother could not look after me properly, and that is why I am a bad character and ended up in care.
Some people think I was a drug addict caught up in wrongdoing. Anyway, support from the community was out of the question. I can't blame them as they don't know why I am really in care. I will not tell them as my mother had suffered enough when my father died, she has responsibility for another three children, I will not let her suffer more.
I am not sure when I will return to my town, but I am 100% sure that I will always love my family, especially my mum and all my other brothers and sisters, and I will never do anything that will break my mum's heart. visit our website
I am a seventeen year old Muslim girl, and I would never let my name be published, but I pray to almighty Allah that nobody ever has to go through this ever again. At present I am living with non-Muslim foster carers because when I came into public care my local social services did not have any Muslim foster carer families who could offer a home to children like myself.
I have learnt that there are very few Muslim families that offer a home to Muslim children. Before I was placed with this family I was placed in a children's home. Surprisingly, I was not the only Muslim girl there; there was Turkish, Bengali, Somali, Indian and two Pakistani girls in the home. They all had different shocking stories to tell.
Anyway, my suffering started at the age of 10 when my real father died in a road accident. I wasn't old enough to understand fully why so many people had come to my house that day. My mother cried constantly and after time our relations left our home one by one, leaving my family to fight and face life all by ourselves.
It must have been a good two years for our house to get back to normal. My mum held an excellent job and was looking after us, and other relatives were a great help. Everything was normal, we had to learn to live without our father. My brother, who was seven years old, was great fun in our family. I loved those moments, they have now become precious assets for me.
It was my twelfth birthday, and I still had to go to school; I did not like it but my mum said I had to go as she was expecting visitors. When I returned from school the visitors had left but my uncle and my aunt, and some other elderly women from down the street were there, and everybody was happy; they were laughing and talking to each other and the whole environment in my house was different.
Suddenly, my aunt came to me and said you are a lucky girl, you are going to have a new daddy. I was shocked and really disappointed at that moment. I rushed to my mum and asked "What the heck is auntie talking about, are you really going to get married again?", my mother replied "Yes,...it is true". My mothers reply and decision was a real blow to me.
I was shocked that she had never mentioned or discussed this marriage with me before. That day I really let everyone know that I did not like the idea of her remarrying and letting a stranger into my home, and I declared war against my stepfather ...today I think that was my mistake...my big big mistake.
My stepfather never liked me since that day. In public he was very kind to me, in private and at home he treated me like dirt. My whole family knew I hated him. I was fourteen, almost fifthteen when I first realised he was touching me late at night. I tried to stop him everytime he approached me; I said "I'll scream if you come any closer to me".
I was not a poor 'bichari' type of girl who would just keep quite. I told my mum after a few days but she would not believe me, instead she believed him and thought that I was making false allegations because I did not like him. She advised me not to tell anyone but I did, as it was not her who was suffering, it was me. I could not let that devil continue. I did not listen to my mum and told my class teacher.
I am in foster care at the moment - I still have contact with my mum and my brother and other family members. They do not know why I am in public care - probably still wondering why I left home. My friend told me that it was the talk of the town that I had done a runner with my boyfriend - rumours spread by my stepfather. Some people think that I did not have a real father and my mother could not look after me properly, and that is why I am a bad character and ended up in care.
Some people think I was a drug addict caught up in wrongdoing. Anyway, support from the community was out of the question. I can't blame them as they don't know why I am really in care. I will not tell them as my mother had suffered enough when my father died, she has responsibility for another three children, I will not let her suffer more.
I am not sure when I will return to my town, but I am 100% sure that I will always love my family, especially my mum and all my other brothers and sisters, and I will never do anything that will break my mum's heart. visit our website
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