Paper Title
Rape and Sexual Assault
Keywords
- rape
- sexual assault
- gender-based violence
- police brutality
- trauma
- victim blaming
- sexual violence
- human rights violations
- ptsd
- survivor testimony
- violence against women
- psychological trauma
- law enforcement abuse
- state violence
- fear and oppression
- coercion
- physical assault
- emotional distress
- sexual abuse
- social stigma
- women's rights
- justice system
- victim support
- sexual trauma
- abuse of power
- gender inequality
- criminal justice
- post-traumatic stress
- sexual exploitation
- public safety
- coerced confessions
Journal
The Mental Health Consequences of Torture
Research Impact Tools
Publication Info
| Pages: 177-193
Published On
April, 2001
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Abstract
We had to be off the streets and in our homes before it got dark… that was the law. If you weren’t and the security police caught you, something terrible could happen. One day you would be here, the next day you could be disappeared. Since the sun was just beginning to set, I thought I was in no danger. I went to the neighborhood store to buy a few vegetables for dinner. I was in there no more than 3 minutes. Since it was still light, I didn’t think I was in any danger. Shortly after I left, I heard the footsteps. I didn’t turn around because I didn’t want to give the impression that I was afraid. The faster I walked, the closer the footsteps seemed. I was almost home when two men in civilian clothes stepped in front of me and said I had to go with them. I told them that my mother and father were waiting for me, that I hadn’t done anything wrong. The next thing I remember I was at the police station. I could hear screams and loud thumps… the thumps sounded like a heavy blanket being beaten by a stick. “Would this happen to me?” I wondered. Then they took me into a small room and ordered me to remove my clothes. “Please,” I pleaded with them, “I haven’t done anything wrong.” My pleas went unheard, and I was ordered again to remove my clothes… but I didn’t. Then one of the men started to tear at my clothes—he was the first one who raped me. I don’t remember how many of them raped me; there were so many. In the morning, they told me I could go home, and they laughed. My clothes were torn and stained with blood. When I got home, my mother wept, but my father beat me. He said it was my fault; it was my fault that I was out at night.
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