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in Richmond Hill |
Horror Lurking in the Shadows Port of Spain, T&T, March 2007: "It took me ten years to have a child and now I feel as if I have lost her," the mother said. She had all but given up having children. She would look on in sadness as other people loved theirs, praying and trying every kind of fertility treatment, even local herbs. Everything and anything. When she finally did get pregnant, she was ecstatic as was her husband. An emotional void in their lives was about to be filled with the birth of a child, a daughter, their firstborn. Then, one day, her daughter was kidnapped. She now refuses to listen to music, the mother said as she related her daughter's story, which is now hers as well as that of her husband and their son. Price of not paying Ransom negotiations were not going well and people had become frustrated. Hands tied behind her back, with duct tape plastered over her mouth and a pair of headphones over her ears, her daughter was raped by the three men who stood guard over her during captivity. The music was so loud in her ears that it helped distract her from the pain of the assault. She screamed in her head because she couldn't open her mouth. She tried to concentrate on the music instead of focusing on the violation of her body but her powers of concentration were no match for the brutality. The duct tape was yanked off and she was forced to submit herself to every form of sexual abuse by her three kidnappers. It was degrading and humiliating, but the worse was yet to come. Her parents were trying to be tough with the kidnappers, refusing to pay a ransom on the advice of the police and a private negotiator her father had hired. The kidnappers were playing for time, knowing that the family would come around. The father was also playing for time, thinking that once they eventually realised that he was not going to pay up, their resolve would weaken and his precious daughter would be freed. She would pay the price for this principled stance.  As the negotiations
intensified, she was allowed to speak to an uncle through an
old school friend who the kidnappers had got her to contact in
order to reach her relatives without the police being any the
wiser. Her uncle asked her if she was all right. More concerned about her family and how they were coping, she put up a brave front and said yes, her captors were treating her fine. The following day, she was dragged out of the room she was in and into the kitchen of what seemed like a run-down dirty apartment. It was the first time she had left the room. No headphones, this time. The men were cursing, saying her father "set dem up" and "took dem for (expletive) fools." "All yuh Indian feel all yuh too smart!" one man said. Her father was supposed to have dropped off the money one day, but then, apparently, changed his mind. The kidnappers were saying that they had another kidnapping job to do and were behind schedule and someone (the boss) was not too happy. It sounded as if they were working with a list. They blamed her for all of this. She was supposed to cry and beg her parents to pay the damn ransom. They blamed her for failing to convince the family to pay the ransom. They concluded that she was being treated too nicely. She too was "(expletive) dem up" because she playing brave and didn't show enough pain. That was about to change. She was spread-eagled on the floor, naked, belly down and sodomised by all three men. Taking turns, two of them stood on her hands while the third man raped her. She could feel something running down her legs and thought it was semen. It was not. It was blood from her ruptured anus. This didn't make any difference to her rapists. One man used a condom because as he told the other men, "all yuh always running hoe (whores)." Please Daddy! Battered and bruised, she thought of her father. He was indeed wealthy. Why did he not just pay the money? Did her mother not tell him to pay it? Were the dreams about them talking to her and lovingly coaxing her to sleep each night during captivity not real? She thought she was so close to her father that he could read her mind. He knew she was tough and always put up a brave front. She remembered how he hugged her and took her for ice cream when her best friend chose someone else to speak at her birthday party and she pretended not to care. The precious, unforgettable unspoken understanding between father and daughter. Did his money mean more to him? That night, she cried and begged her uncle for her father to pay the ransom. It was paid the following day in full, at three different drop-off points. Out of captivity, she wished she had never broken down and begged for her father to pay for the ransom. She found that facing her family was more difficult than the suffering and assault she had endured at the hands of her kidnappers. She was bitter, angry, hurt and found herself disconnected from reality. She kept asking herself if it was her brother who was kidnapped if her father would have paid the money without hesitation. She lived inside herself, shell-like. She stayed in her room, spoke little, ate little. One night, she woke up screaming. Her parents rushed into her room, she pointed at her father, telling him she hated him. She accused him of making the kidnappers rape her. She went mad, running amok through the room, destroying and smashing everything in sight from photographs on the wall to the lamp. She rummaged through drawers until she found a gold chain her father had given her on her 16th birthday, ripped it and pelted him with it. She wanted nothing from him anymore she shouted, telling him to take back his (expletive) land. (Her father had given her some land.) Living inside herself Her mother held her and tried to hug her. She raised her hand to slap her mother, but was stopped by her brother. She struggled. The phone started ringing-neighbours wanted to know if everything was all right. Her mother chased father and son out of the room, cursing and telling them to "leave her alone with her child." In growing horror, her mother listened to her daughter's story. She told her daughter that she had told the father to pay the ransom. One of the kidnappers had spoken to her once at her sister's home, he had told her that her daughter would not be harmed if the money was paid. She said the kidnapper gave his word and that he said that the police were involved and should the family tell them what was going on, that would only make things worse because they (the police) were very greedy. So she begged her husband to pay the money. The police had set up shop in the house and had advised the father to pay no ransom saying that the kidnappers might think he paid too easily, and ask for more. He must negotiate, the police advised. The father hired a special negotiator who had helped another family whose child was also kidnapped. The mother said she didn't trust the police and she spoke to her husband about this fear, but he did not listen to her. She tried telling her daughter that her father meant well. She would never forget the look her daughter gave her, it was like pointing stabbing into her eyes. No point reminding her daughter now about all those years when her father was there for her, the times when, as a child, she'd ignore her mother so she could be with her father, and hug him while she fell asleep, sucking her thumb. She had failed the child that God had blessed her with after ten long years of painful infertility. She had thought about pawning her jewelry and borrowing money from her sister to secretly pay the ransom without telling her husband and the police, but she had no way of contacting the kidnappers. When they called, the kidnappers spoke to her husband and the negotiator. Her son sided with his father, telling her to leave the matter to the men. She did. Mother's pain She knows that her husband loves his daughter more than life itself, but her daughter's pain was too great for her to think of anyone else's. With her daughter, she moved out of the house. She misses her son, but has explained to him that he must take care of his father while she looks after his sister. Her husband has gone into a state of irreversible and permanent depression. He swallows pills and drinks himself to sleep every day. The man who fathered her two children is now an unrecognisable drunk. One day, her son got into a fight at a nightclub and the protagonist told him, "Yuh sista get kidnap and doh worry, you next in (expletive) line." His father sent him abroad immediately. The daughter, has chopped off the long, beautiful hair that her father so admired. She resists counselling, she no longer prays and hates the gospel music she once loved. She wants no Bible in her room and wants no priest to pray for her. She is now a vegetarian and lives a robotic existence devoid of rhyme, rhythm or reason. The mother is slowly dying inside. She feels as if her insides are being ripped apart "with pliers," she says. Her family has been torn apart and destroyed by these kidnappers. A perfect marriage had come to naught. She saw her daughter eavesdropping once when she was speaking with her husband on the phone. Her daughter had a frown on her face. She now speaks with her husband in secret. She has stopped him from calling her, as he often did when he was drunk, to ask about his "baby girl." In total isolation, the mother clings to the shadow that is left of her daughter, nursing the memories of happier times. She came forward to tell her story because she had heard people arguing that families should not pay ransoms to get back their loved ones who have been kidnapped. If she had her way, she said, she would have gladly given them a little extra Worse Than Physical Torture "That's the most horrific crime," said Kidnap victim Debbie Ali. "It is worse than death, because you sitting there and you don't know and you stewing and you suffering and you don't know. "Mental torture is worse than physical torture. Ali said the kidnappers had told her that victims were like farm animals waiting to be milked, that they had no regard for human life, a nd would not hesitate to kill. The crowd went silent as Ali recalled details of the horror she underwent at the hands of her kidnappers. She said after she was thrown in the trunk of a car on being abducted at gunpoint, she was forced to stay in a hole in the rain and was dragged with a pillowcase over her head to a small room, where she was forced to bathe naked in front of her abductors. She had to defecate and urinate in front of her abductors, with her hands tied. She was chained to a bed and mauled by a pitbull for three consecutive days. She said her legs went numb during the ordeal. She said she looked at life through different eyes. Snatched by gun-toting men "I sleep with my lights on and I no longer eat nuts," he said quietly. Such was the extent of the damage to him and the everlasting fear. Not hatred, he quickly added, but fear. Mr X, the son of a prominent businessman, was snatched by four gun-toting men late one afternoon. He was put in the middle of the back-seat, sandwiched between two men with guns. A short drive away from the point of kidnapping, the kidnappers stopped to tie his hands, with cutlass wire, and dragged him to throw him in the trunk of the car. As he struggled, two of the men beat and kicked right there, one of them rammed his boot into his back so hard that he buckled and fell inside the car's trunk. The physical pain was excruciating and intense. To this day, X still suffers from severe back pains. His abductors took him to an apartment where he spent the night in a daze. The next morning, X was fed bread and cheese. He was allowed to use the washroom-with his hands still tied, one of the kidnappers pulled down his pants and briefs for him. X asked if his hands could be freed so that he could clean himself. There was no response. The same man simply pulled up his brief and jeans and escorted him back to the room where he was being kept. Two of the men wore masks, the faces of the other two were bare of coverings. A cellphone rang and X could hear  one
of the men taking directions. X heard him curse and raise his
voice, asking the caller if he was certain that this plan would
work. One hour later, his room door was opened and he was greeted by an unforgettable sight: his four abductors were all dressed as soldiers, in full army camouflage uniforms. X was bundled into the trunk of a car. Forty-five minutes later, the kidnappers and their victim switched vehicles. X was blindfolded and placed inside "a sort of barrel, in the back of what felt like a truck." There were holes at the top to allow air in so he could breathe but it was a bumpy ride and his hands were cramping. This is the spot About three hours later, he was taken out of his container and led along a track, up some hills into the bush. One of the men called out to say they had arrived. X heard him say that the plan had worked well as "police eh stop we." The party of men walked for about an hour until one man said "this is the spot." X's hands were untied and he was allowed to urinate. Still blindfolded, he was led into what felt like a cave or some dark hole. His hands were tied behind his back around what felt like a tree trunk or a rough, broad wooden post. His blindfold was removed and a crocus bag placed over his head with strings at the base that were pulled around his neck and tied. The bag stank, but he could breathe. The men left X in this "cave." In total darkness, he stayed awake all night. He could hear the noises of animals and worried that if he fell asleep, he'd be at the mercy of snakes. He was afraid of snakes. He eventually fell asleep thinking how worried his mother must be. When he awoke, he assumed it was daytime. The place was still dark and the crocus bag was still on his head. He could feel his bowels churning, he badly wanted to use the toilet. He assumed someone would come to facilitate this, and waited. Eventually, someone came. The crocus bag was loosened and lifted no higher than above his nose. He was fed some bread with butter and given some water. He tried to engage the men in conversation to see if he could talk his way out of captivity. He told them his father suffered a heart attack after he was snatched and would die soon and begged them to release him. The reply was "well he better pay de (expletive) money before he dead or else you goh meet him up dey." The men started pulling the crocus bag back down and X asked if he could be allowed to void his bowels and his bladder. One of the men slapped him, saying "You tink dis ah (expletive) hotel or wat?" They left. He eventually gave in to the call of nature and defecated and urinated in his pants. He would do so for the next three days. Living in filth X felt as if his arms were collapsing. He was thirsty and longed for some water. No one came until the following morning when he was awakened by a kick and voice saying "like yuh (expletive) s... down de place!" The bag was removed and X was hand-fed Crix biscuits by his captors. He asked for some water, but was told that they had forgotten to bring water. His captors left without allowing him to clean himself up. X started to feel weak. He became disoriented, frustrated and depressed. He was dehydrated and living in his own filth. He lost count of the days and nights and was fast losing hope of being rescued or of surviving. Not a religious man, X prayed. Two days later, two men visited a weak, hungry, and dehydrated X. They beat him badly "for no reason at all." The crocus bag was again raised above his nose and he was again hand-fed Crix. While putting Crix in his mouth, they talked about how many people they had murdered. Flicker of hope He finished eating and as the bag was being lowered over his face again, he begged for some water. His pleas were ignored, the bag was tied. He cursed the men, telling them he was dying of thirst and needed something to drink. They ignored him and left. Later on that day, some men visited X. He was slapped and told that his father wanted to speak with him and that he'd better tell him to pay the ransom. A flicker of hope. X said he was not talking to anyone unless he got something to drink and was allowed to clean himself up. One of the men said "look open yuh mouth and drink this." X felt a warm burst of liquid on the bag. It tasted funny, but he couldn't care less. It stopped and one of the men laughed and said "Like he like de (expletive) p---, boy!" He realised that he had just been made to drink one of the men's urine. Truth be told, he would later confess in this interview, he'd somehow known this, but managed to quell the inchoate because his thirst was so desperate. Hearing the men say it, though, the humiliation rose and he cursed them, telling then he would tell his father "to not give them any (expletive) money." The men removed the crocus bag from X's head. He saw three men. They looked like the Bobo Shanti vendors he'd buy nuts from at traffic intersections along the highways. The men slapped, kicked and cuffed him all over his head until he was barely conscious. One of the men held his face in his hands and ordered him to open his mouth. He refused, not because he didn't want to, but because he was delirious and his brain was taking far too long to process what was said. The man pulled down his pants, forced X's mouth open and urinated into it. X gagged. He swallowed. He was taken to the top of a hill where telephone reception was available and he was allowed to speak to his father. He told his father he was fine, even though his voice quivered. The crocus bag was replaced around his head and he was taken to a spot where the men untied his hands and dashed water on him. He was not allowed to take his clothes off but he was able to wash himself. Guard changes Two days later, X was moved to a different location. He was now held captive in a shack. He was handcuffed, but felt a lot better as he had a sort of makeshift bed and was fed bread and butter. New men guarded him. There were two of them. They talked about his father trusting the police too much and quarrelled about the fact that they (the police) were getting paid even though they were taking no risks. The following night, X was awakened and beaten for snoring. He butted one of the men and was stripped and made to lie on the floor. His back was used as an ashtray, the men putting out their cigarettes on his back and buttocks. The men were drinking alcohol and smoking weed. He laid on the floor all night, with the men boots resting on his back. They discussed details of other kidnappings and other illegal exploits and also that the police had told "de boss" that X's father was trying to raise the ransom money. X fell asleep on the floor. These two men stayed with X for the next three days. One would sometimes leave to fetch food, weed, alcohol and cigarettes. One night, the man who remained as guard opened the door to X's room and slapped him awake. He put a gun to X's head and forced him to perform oral sex on him. X thought about biting the man's penis off, but felt that the man was so high on marijuana and intoxicated from the liquor that he might actually pull the trigger. Dehumanised and fearing for his life, X did as he was told. No escape X slowly began to accept that there was no escape and hehad to surrender to his captors. He subjected himself and co-operated with them, living only in his mind for his thoughts was the one thing they could not control. He was released one week later, after a negotiated ransom was paid. His father told him that he suspected that the police might have been involved with his kidnappers and urged him to forget the entire thing and move on as he had arranged to send him abroad. He has never told this story to anyone. No one will ever understand why, even though he is now hundreds of miles away, he still sleeps with the lights on and refuses to eat nuts. Kidnapped for life "I was stripped of all my dignity," she said quietly. Hands covering her face, she recounted the details of her kidnapping. Kidnapping is so organised. There are several groups involved, with each one performing a specific duty. Team A, the abduction team, snatched the victim. Team A handed her over to Team B (the transportation team) at an undisclosed location that was only made known to it after a few calls from someone who gave careful, specific directions. Team A did not know where Team B was taking her, just in case the police managed to arrest anyone from Team A. Team B was responsible for transporting the victim to the hiding spot and handing her over to Team C (the guard team), which was responsible for taking her to the place where she would be imprisoned until negotiations for payment of a ransom were successfully concluded. Team B did not know where Team C was actually taking her to detain her. Team D separately contacted the family to negotiate the ransom. Team E visited the family in full religious wear to say that its organisation could find her for a fee, and that the police were a waste, because they were probably in cahoots with team D. Whom do you trust? Negotiation calls are made to distant friends to evade tapped telephone lines. She cried constantly and could not eat. After three days, she became weak. She decided to keep herself alive because she was able to hear her husband's voice on the cellphone and he told her he was going to pay the ransom. Hope and tears mingled freely in her bosom. Later that night, the guards changed shift. A new set of men came. They played cards and drank heavily. She fell asleep, but was awakened by a hand on her leg. She slapped it off and collected a slap. Wide awake, she looked up and saw all three of her guards, dressed in their briefs alone, staring at her. She struggled, but was overpowered, and they took turns raping her. They had their way all night, invading and brutalising her while their fantasies-and her worst nightmare-became a reality. At some point, her body became numb and lifeless, paralysed by the assault and humiliation. The next morning she was kicked and told to "wash off properly." She heard them discussing the possibility of testing for DNA with sperm and mechanically washed in front of them. She could not cry anymore. She had probably run out of tears. Later that evening, the shift changed again. She was slapped and warned not to say anything by the rapists before they left. She was repeatedly raped by that second shift when they returned the next week, and she eventually confided in one of the guards (X) from the first shift. He was most upset and said that was "not part of the plan." He promised to inform the "bossman" about her plight. The shift did not change that evening, so she was not raped. Instead, X allowed her to speak with her family members, who indicated that they were going to drop off the money the following morning. She was blindfolded and released. She did not tell anyone about the rapes. They were all so relieved to have her back, she couldn't bear to tell them that the ransom money was all in vain. She wanted to scream and tell them they had kidnapped her soul. Two weeks later, after much thinking, she flew to a neighbouring Caribbean island and paid a secret visit to a doctor. Her worst fears were confirmed: she was pregnant. She had an abortion and returned home. Not wanting to tell her husband what had happened or risk infecting him with some unknown STD, she refused to be intimate with him. "I was still kidnapped even after my release. They kidnapped part of me for life," she said. She eventually confronted her demons and went back for an HIV test. She did not indicate what the result was, and I did not ask. She said she was living against her own will, because she did not want to disappoint those who had sacrificed so much to have her back. Good cop, bad cop... "Two police officers sat behind the desk. They stared at her blankly. Neither man moved a muscle; they stared at her as though she had horns growing out of her head. She realised she was not commanding the policemen's attention nor conveying any sense urgency of her plight. She tried again. She cleared her throat and raised her voice to repeat: "My daughter has just been kidnapped!" One of the policemen, rising sluggishly, asked, "So how yuh know she get kidnapped?" Frantically, she explained that her daughter was snatched while she driving through the front gate of their home. As her words poured out, she began to cry. The policemen asked for a description of the vehicle, but she couldn't give any because she, the mother, was not at home at the time her daughter was kidnapped in the driveway of their home. She said a neighbour who saw the entire incident described the vehicle as a heavily tinted, white B13 Sentra. The policemen asked her whether her daughter had a boyfriend. She said no. The other officer picked up the photo of her daughter from the counter and exclaimed, "Yuh mean to say ah good lookin gyul like dis eh have a boyfriend? Yuh mean you doh know if she have one?" Confused and dazed, aware of the fact that time was passing quickly and frustrated by the casual attitude and irrelevant questions of the policemen, the mother asked, "What does whether she has a boyfriend or not have to do with the fact that she was kidnapped?" Dead silence. The officer asked his colleague (who was holding the picture) whether he should call the Anti-Kidnapping Squad (AKS). He replied, "For what? We eh have no proof dat dis gyul was kidnapped." Contrary to policy Almost 30 minutes had gone since she first came into the police station and she started begging the officers, literally, to do something. They eventually agreed to accompany her back to her home, but said they had to wait because there was no vehicle currently available. She offered to take them with her, but they said that that was "contrary to policy because she was a civilian." They had to wait until the official police vehicle, which was on inquiries, returned, they told her. Her belly started churning with a mother's grief and gut-wrenching pain. She telephoned her husband who had already marshalled several vehicles with friends, villagers and family to go in search of their daughter. She was comforted a bit and found herself profusely thanking her husband who angrily retorted, "What stupidness yuh talkin, is my child yuh know?" She gave the officers the "good news" only to be told that they were wrong to take the law into their own hands and not wait for the police. "Allyuh eh need no police, allyuh is all yuh own police," an officer told her. She left the station. An hour later, two police officers arrived at her home saying that they had come in connection with "some ting about some kidnapping." They said this not only with an air of disbelief, but also with more than a hint of sarcasm. They then proceeded to ask the same question that the policemen at the station has asked her: Whether her daughter had a boyfriend. They then interrogated her about whether she had any enemies. Unable to cope with the trauma and confusion of the thoughts that were now assailing her, she called for the neighbour who had witnessed the kidnapping, to speak with the officers. Worthless police theories She swears that as long as she lives, she would never be able to forget the snide comment she overheard from one of the officers that "she" (her daughter) "probably run away with a man for a few days." She panicked as she heard the cop say this, remembering reading about the gruesome rape and murder of 12-year-old Radha Pixie Lakhan whose body had only recently been discovered, she had been murdered. She remembered that little Radha's mother had expressed |