We have a proverb in our country, "If you want to humiliate someone, rub their nose with a good deed".

Welcome. I wish to convey my experiences with domestic violence, with the hope that it may offer support and insight to every girl and woman who has endured such hardships. Certainly, since the first day of marriage, I have encountered domestic violence stemming from socioeconomic disparities; my humble financial status contrasted with their affluent background. However, the most traumatic event I experienced was the assault that occurred following the day of my divorce. The date was August 18, 2018. Enduring domestic violence was already challenging, but that day marked another level of adversity in my life. 

I was asleep at around 8:30 PM, accompanied by my children. I am a parent to four children: my eldest daughter and three younger ones. At that time, my daughter was nineteen years old. A young man from Iraq had repeatedly proposed to her, but her father consistently declined, citing the reason that we resided in a different province than his. My daughter and the boy used to communicate via telephone. By chance, her father overheard her speaking with him. The conversation was ordinary and respectable.

All I felt was the forceful slamming of the door and the impact of being struck. He shouted, ‘’Come and see what your daughter is doing,". Terrified, I wondered, "What is she doing?”. “Nothing". she responded, "Mother, I'm not doing anything. It's just that he was calling me and asking me to persuade my family so that he can come and propose to you."

My husband is someone who has had numerous relationships and friendships, leading him to believe that all women are alike. He fails to distinguish between women of honour and those who are not. So, he began to act aggressively towards us, accusing me of not raising her properly. He used various objects to express his anger. He hit us with a belt, shoes, and a wooden rod. All sorts of beatings started at approximately nine in the evening. Whenever he beat us, and if we expressed our pain vocally, it would result in an escalation of the ordeal. We were supposed to be silent while beaten. He was aware that if our neighbours heard us screaming, they would notify the police.

Then my eldest son was given the belt by him, and he was instructed to strike me, stating, "Your sister and mother are not honourable." My kid said, " No, I can't hit my mother because she's a chaste woman." So, he beat him like us. He went and forced my other son, "You hit her, or I'll hit you the same way I hit your mother and brother," he shouted. My son gave me a soft blow. "I'll hurt you if you don't hit her hard, and I'll throw you off the balcony," he yelled. My son inflicted a severe belt blow. My son kept hearing him say, "No, to her head." Hit her hard; don't hit her that way”. My son still suffers from a psychological condition as a result of that day. He never forgave himself; each time he sees me, he gives me kisses on my hands and feet and begs me to pardon him.

Then he took out his phone and recorded a video of me. He continued, "Say, I have a relationship with so-and-so," I didn't know these names; it was the first time I heard them. I asked him, "Why are you doing this?" He responded, "If I send you to your family and you are battered and bruised, they will not blame me since it is a matter of honour. Say, I'm in a relationship with so-and-so, and I'm having a nice time with and sleeping with him." He forced me to say those awful things about myself and then had me say the same about my daughter. Then he turned to my daughter and said, "Say I have relations with boys, I offer my body for money". He retained the recording and used it to manipulate us.

When I needed to use the loo and I had diabetes, he told me to do it where I was, in front of my children. I begged him and kissed his feet. I told him I couldn't, and he told me to leave the door open. He would tell me the bathroom was cleaner than me. He forced my children to watch me go into the toilet and threatened them with punishment if they disobeyed. He continued the same manner till the second day, at four o'clock in the afternoon. When he was sleepy, he would place the bed in front of the room to keep my daughter and me from going to the toilet or running away. He would sleep for two hours before assaulting us again. Even the belt he used to strike us broke; I kept it for a while and eventually burned it.

He informed me on the second day that our marriage would not last and that he would divorce me. Inside, I was relieved that I would finally be saved. I remained silent, not saying anything, knowing that it was the fourth divorce. Finally, he administered the oath three times, saying, "You are divorced, divorced, divorced." "Grab your belongings, grab your daughter, and go work as a maid at your brother's house," he commanded. My brother and I did not get along well because of an inheritance. "No problem, as long as I'll be done with you," I replied to him. After two hours, he said, "No, you and the kids stay here, and I'll leave. You must manage income by yourself if you wish to befriend other men and earn money for yourself and your children. Your daughter may work in a nightclub or as a prostitute. I have nothing to do with you."

On the same day he divorced me, he came into my room at night. His eyes were as if on fire. Frankly, I was terrified of him; it was the first time I had seen him like that. He tightened his teeth and bolted the door. The first thing he did was tie me to the bed. Then he warned, "Don't say a single word, if all your men come, I will slaughter them one by one in front of you". He divorced me, then raped me! I had to be silent and not say anything. He did the same thing on the second and third days. My daughter was aware when she urged, "Mama, don't give up, kill him because he deserves it". I answered her, "No, I cannot kill. He also ties me up, preventing me from moving." She considered writing a note and throwing it to the neighbours, saying, "Help us, bring the police; my mother and I are suffering." I refused because, if the police arrived, he would kill us first; I knew him, and he lacked compassion and humanity. The rape lasted a total of ten days, after which he left.

We returned to our governorate. I requested a transfer to another governorate so he wouldn't know our address. We left as soon as I received the security clearance. My daughter worked as a waiter in a restaurant, and I could not leave the house because my children were unwell. My daughter used to support us with her earnings and tips.

Until one day, my daughter requested, "Mama, my grandmother - his mother - wants to come, she misses the children. Let us give her the address”. I uttered, "I can't, I'm afraid he will come with her, and the same torture will recur". She said, "No; this is Nana. Let's give her the address and we will get her from the airport." Nana came to see the kids, gave them pocket money, and purchased clothes for them. She came alone; we picked her up at the airport. She remained with us for 15 days. Six months after Nana left, my ex-husband came knocking on the door.

The same thing occurred; we served and obeyed him while he stayed for three or four days, eating and drinking. Of course, before he departed, we were all beaten, me and the children, for whatever reason, in addition to being sexually raped. My daughter was unable to handle this situation. She informed him, “I can't bear it, I will return to Iraq and I shall get married there”. Indeed, the boy who was proposing to her arrived, and her father turned him down. Eventually, the marriage occurred, and he took her back to our governorate. Praise Allah, she finished her studies and graduated from college, and they have been married for the past six years. She has completely forgotten about her father, and he has had no communication from her. My ex-husband married twice.

My son, who suffers from a disability, owns a phone, so his father knows his number and occasionally calls him. He asked the same question on every phone call: "Who came to see your mother?" "Who visited her?" "Who came to your house?" What did you eat, what did you drink, and who bought your clothes?"

One might wonder what kept me going and carrying on with my life despite all of the violence I had experienced. As I previously stated, my children are my driving force; among them, one has special needs, and another, my daughter, suffers from a cardiac ailment. Most of the time when I saw them, I was aware that they lacked any support or guidance after my departure, which meant they could be ruined, become lost, displaced, or even stray onto the wrong path in life. The primary and essential motivation that has driven me to persist and endure is my children.

He once told me that if we were to travel to a European country, he predicted that within five years, my children and I would face challenges. He mocked me, saying, “Your children will become addicted to everything - drugs, alcohol; they'll frequent nightclubs, and your daughter will turn to prostitution. Mark my words.” I refrained from responding as I knew he was being provocative towards me, so I assured him everything was fine. It is important to note that he was with us the day before our planned departure. On the following day, after I had organized our luggage and packed our belongings into bags for the trip, the first thing he did was destroy all of my asthma equipment, which included an oxygen therapy device and a nebulizer that I kept at home due to my condition. I understand his thought process. While traveling to an unfamiliar European country, I might have needed those medications. Without them, I feared I would perish, leaving the children stranded and destitute. He also damaged other items I had packed, such as kitchen utensils. Additionally, two suitcases had their wheels broken; I still possess them because, at that time, I had no alternatives and was in a rush to travel.

I have always enjoyed laughing, engaging in conversations, and forming social connections. However, after meeting him, my social life has deteriorated; I have had no interactions with my friends, girlfriends, or nice relationships with my neighbours. My interactions with neighbours have become distant, limited to brief greetings. His influence instilled a pervasive fear in me. Most importantly, I have been apart from him for two years.

Praise Allah, now I have successfully enrolled my children in schools and colleges, and I am starting college as well. I want to urge every woman who has suffered from domestic violence, that she should never surrender. She should continue to oppose until she achieves her aim. With God's grace, I am determined to succeed in bringing my children to safety and seeing them graduate from the finest universities.

What enabled me to endure and emerge from this crisis was, as I mentioned previously, my love for laughter. I habitually watch humorous clips, allowing myself to laugh heartily. Once I have memorized them, I begin copying the scenes with my voice and gestures, which makes my children giggle. Their laughter helps me forget all my concerns in this world.

My son, who has special needs, adores singing, dancing, and music. I tell him, "Let us dance." We keep dancing until he or I are tired, then we sit and giggle at ourselves. Honestly, I have no idea how to dance; my moves are just crazy acrobatic gestures, but whenever he dances it  feels as if the entire world joins in, and all my worries dissolve. Seeing my children content, well-dressed, warm, and joyful is all I need.

My children are the driving force that enabled me to endure all the hardships and agony. I was successful in getting them to safety, and with Allah's grace, they will remain with me. Hopefully, one day I will see them achieve great success. Firstly, for their own fulfilment, and secondly, so that I can take pride in their accomplishments. Finally, we have a proverb in our country, "If you want to humiliate someone, rub their nose with a good deed", therefore with Allah's grace, with the good deeds of my children, I shall rub their father's nose.

Indeed, I do not encourage their animosity toward their father; after all, he is their father. Regrettably, they already despise him. My eldest son, in particular, dislikes him and avoids all interaction with him. He becomes distressed at the mere mention of his name and retreats to his room immediately. On one occasion, he confided in me, saying, “Mother, I have decided against marriage. I fear inheriting my father's traits and causing harm to my children.” I assured him that such behaviours were exclusive to his father and unrelated to genetics; they are simply a product of one's character. With Allah's grace, I aspire to meet my children's expectations.