Oxana Kalemi - Mummy, Come Home - The True Story of a Mother Kidnapped and Torn from Her Children

‘She’s trying to escape,’ one called and I heard a grunt of frustration as the boy rushed into the cubicle.

‘You’ve made a real mistake,’ he shouted as he grabbed me. ‘And now you’re going to pay for it.’

Panic filled me as the boy pulled me outside to where the two men were waiting. One was in his early thirties with blond hair and a well-built body while the other was tall, thinner and older.

‘Hello there, little girl. Nice to meet you. Now, let’s go,’ the tall man said as he dug his fingers into my arm and started dragging me towards a tent pitched nearby.

I looked back to see the blond man handing over some money to the boy as I was pushed inside the tent. The light inside glowed yellow and the air was hot, hard to breathe.

‘So what shall we do now?’ the blond man smiled as he crawled in behind us.

Without a word, he grabbed my hair and pushed his lips onto mine. I felt teeth bite into me as the man held my shoulders and pulled open his shorts. He pushed my head towards his nakedness as he knelt. My mind went black. What was he trying to do? I gritted my teeth, forcing myself not to cry or scream, as the man forced himself towards me. Suddenly fingers wrenched open the sides of my mouth and I tasted blood as my skin split.

‘Hold her nose,’ a voice said and fingers pinched my nostrils shut.

Whatever happened I must keep my mouth closed, mustn’t let this man into me. But as the world went from red to black and my body gasped for air, the blond man thrust himself into me. I bit him.

‘Fucking bitch,’ he shouted.

A fist smashed into my mouth and a knee flew towards my face. Pain flooded into my head. I could taste blood and feel the salt sting of tears melting into my cuts.

‘Here, wait,’ the tall man said as he grabbed me by the neck and pulled out a roll of masking tape. He pushed a strip over my mouth. Blood and tears rushed into my throat as my arms were pulled behind my head and I was forced back onto the ground.

The blond man pulled up my T-shirt and suddenly his weight was crushing me. He wanted what the boy had taken yesterday. It had hurt so much. I had to stop him. Once again I went rigid as he forced himself into me.

‘You’re only hurting yourself,’ he said.

It was worse, much worse, than the night before as the grown man pushed into me with a violence the boy did not yet know he had. I wanted to die. Just fall into the sea, out of the sky, and die. Tears fell wet down my face as the man moved on top of me. I had never known pain like it so deep inside, at the centre of me.

‘Sshh,’ he said as his hips pushed into mine again and again, his voice suddenly soft, the kind of voice you use to speak to a little girl. ‘Don’t cry. You’ll be fine.’

But still he heaved on top of me until suddenly a thick, musky smell filled the air. I felt warmth spread on my stomach as he rolled off me.

Silently I sat up and pulled the tape off my mouth as the men lit cigarettes. It felt like there was an animal inside me which wanted to scream but I couldn’t let it out.

‘It was all right, wasn’t it, even though you were tight?’ the blond man smiled as he smoked.

‘Can I have one?’ I asked, gesturing at the cigarette.

‘You smoke?’

‘Yes,’ I lied as he put a cigarette into my bleeding mouth and held a match to it. I felt dizzy as chemicals rushed into my brain and, without thinking, I pushed the burning cigarette onto the back of my hand. I wanted to see if I was alive but couldn’t feel a thing as the burning tip scorched my skin. Only the small white scar it left on my hand reminds me still that the day was real. But I didn’t know that back then. It all felt like a dream. When would I wake up at home?

I felt a slap on my face.

‘Are you crazy?’ the tall man shouted.

I looked at him silently.

‘She needs to clean herself,’ the blond man snapped as he took my arm and pulled me out of the tent.

I stood up and stumbled towards the sea where I started splashing myself. The water felt cold and my nose and mouth stung as the salty water bit into my cuts. Inside I felt nothing.

‘Are you all right?’ a voice asked.

I turned to see a police car parked on the beach and an officer standing near the tent. Another sat in the car.

Suddenly a flash lit up inside me. I was safe. They could help me.

But then fear filled me again. No one must ever know what had happened. My father could never find out. I would be shamed forever if he did. I started shaking as the sea rushed over my feet and I pulled down my wet T-shirt. I had no underwear. What kind of girl would they think I was?

‘I’m fine,’ I told the policeman.

He looked at me.

‘She’s my cousin,’ the blond man said.

‘Is that true?’ the officer asked.

‘Yes,’ I replied.

The policeman stared at me for a moment. ‘Well, get your things anyway because I want you to come with me.’

I dragged a hand over my mouth to wipe away the blood as I stood up to follow the man. Silently, I got into the front seat of the car as the other officer put the two men into the back. They didn’t say anything and neither did I. I wouldn’t tell, I decided as the car drove away. I’d lie if I had to. If Papa found out I wasn’t a virgin anymore then he’d either kill me or I’d be labelled a whore—either way my life would be over.

I was scared when I got to the police station. I knew what the police were like—they could do whatever they wanted—and so, even though a kind man asked me again and again what had happened, I didn’t tell him.

‘So where are your friends?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know.’

‘And your clothes?’

‘I lost them.’

‘What were you doing with the men we found you with?’

‘Just talking.’

There was silence while the policeman considered my answer. Then he said, ‘Did these men do something to you?’

‘No.’

‘Are you sure, Oxana?’

‘Yes.’

Soon a woman doctor arrived to take me to another room. I cried again as she asked me to sit in a chair with stirrups before looking at every part of me, the parts no one had ever seen until that day. The woman was silent as she examined me before turning away to write notes. Later she left the room, came back with a white gown and I was taken back to the room where the investigator sat.

‘Why have you lied to me?’ he asked softly. ‘You’ve been raped, haven’t you? The doctor says you’ve been treated very roughly. You must have been in a great deal of pain. Why keep silent?’

I stared down at the table. Would my body always tell my story to those who looked closely enough? I felt sick. Would my husband know in the years to come?

‘I’m scared,’ I sobbed. ‘My father mustn’t know what’s happened to me.’

‘But why?’

‘Because he’ll kill me. Please, please don’t tell my parents. I’ll do whatever you want but please don’t tell them.’

‘I won’t,’ he said.

So I told him everything. He kept his promise and did not call my parents. Instead, we called my second cousin, Yula, who came to pick me up and take me home. She lived not far from us with her husband and two children and I saw her often. I trusted her to help me. The investigator told her that I’d been found at the beach alone and needed clothes.

Yula came bringing clothes for me and, after speaking to the investigator, took me home in her car. We had only been driving for about fifteen minutes when she stopped the car and climbed into the back seat beside me.

‘What were you doing at the beach alone, Oxana?’ she asked gently.

I started sobbing. ‘You must never tell Mamma and Papa,’ I whispered.

Yula began crying as well. She knew my father was very strict. ‘But I have to,’ she said. ‘You’re fourteen. A girl. They need to know.’