22nd February 1986 - my wedding day was a perfect day with not a cloud about.

Just perfect - apart from the nausea (with me being eight weeks pregnant and all) and the complete lack of excitement on my part.

Though our home was abuzz with activity, with sisters running around doing last minute things, I suspect that the reality of the wedding hadn’t yet sunk in. Maybe it was because everything was being done for me. Or maybe it was the deep-rooted fear that I felt within, but was in denial about.

My brother Steven seemed more excited to drive the borrowed wedding car, a BMW, than about the fact that I was about to get married. The journey from our home in Randburg to the church in Rivonia took about forty-five minutes. I’m pretty sure my sibling took the longest route to the church so he could derive as much pleasure as possible from driving such a fancy car. Owning a ‘Beemer’ in the 80’s carried a certain amount of status.

Alone in the back, I was singing loudly to Credence Clear Water Revival’s Bad Moon Rising. Back then I never really took much notice of the lyrics of a song. A catchy tune was what grabbed my attention. In hindsight, the song was probably the final desperate attempt my guardian angels made to warn me.

I cannot describe the overwhelming fear that hit me like a ton of bricks as we drove through the church car park. I felt ill.

My sisters were so pretty in baby blue dresses, standing outside the church, waiting for me. As we entered the building though, I suddenly felt my body temperature rise. The church was packed to capacity. Shaking uncontrollably I wondered - where did all these people come from?

Mike was at the front of the church with his brother Paul. He looked really smart for a change – dressed in a navy blue pin-striped suit.

We had requested an edited version of the usual, lengthy Catholic exchanging of the vows ceremony. Afterwards, Mike and I walked out the church, surrounded by hoards of well-wishers. I knew few of them.

During the wedding reception, it wasn’t long before I noticed my newly beloved beginning to stumble. I knew then that the evening could end up either very good, or very, very bad. People were dancing and having a whale of a time, but I just wanted the whole thing over. The sooner we got out of there, the more chance I had of keeping Mike in a good mood.

The two of us eventually left at around two in the morning. We were in Mike’s Beetle and the car was swaying all over the place. Mercifully, we arrived at the hotel in one piece. I had personally arranged the reservations earlier that day. We walked into the reception area. The only man on duty couldn’t find any record of my booking.

So drunk that he hardly made any sense at all, Mike began ranting and swearing at the hapless desk clerk, demanding to see the Manager.

Minutes later a muscle-bound bouncer appeared. Unbelievably Mike took him on. But thankfully soon realised he was picking on the wrong person.

We were shown to our room – nothing fancy, just a simple little room with a double bed, chair and TV. I headed for the bathroom. As Mike continued grumbling about the poor service, I stood there wondering if there were any spare blankets that could serve as a makeshift mattress for the bath. Then eventually came out of the bathroom. Only to find my groom naked and
spread-eagled across the bed snoring his drunken head off!

Utterly exhausted, I stood staring at him for what seemed like an eternity, pondering over whether I should try shifting him over to one side of the bed, or not. Then, as gently as I could, so he wouldn’t wake up, I tried to move him.

A torrent of abuse ensued.
“I’m sorry Mike, I’m just so tired” I replied.
“Can’t you see I’m sleeping you dumb whore”? Mike slurred out of his dirty, drunken mouth.

I retreated to the single chair, sat down, and watched Mike settle once again into a drunken stupor. About an hour or so later, after he turned over, I quietly slipped onto the bed, petrified I’d wake him.

Wonderful Women is drawing up a list of helpful resources for victims of domestic violence and other types of abuse.

If you are based in Dubai or Gauteng in S.A. and provide a service that you believe should be on the list, or know of someone who does, please e-mail sue@wwnetw.com.

There is already some information that can help abused women on the home page of the Wonderful Women website – www.wonderfulwomennetwork.com.

Human Relations Institute (Dubai) (971-4) 365-8498 & 365-8578
www.hridubai.com is linked to The Foundation for International Human Relations, Washington, DC and offers a wide range of Psychology related services. With multilingual and multicultural professionals on board they combine both Clinical and *Forensic Psychology to effectively assess, treat, and consult on cases where domestic violence is involved. (*Forensic psychologists translate psychological information into a legal framework, usually for the purpose of testifying in court.)

The Restorative Justice Centre
(Pretoria, South Africa)
Tel: 27 (0) 12 3232926.   Contact Suzanne Robinson-Davis suzanne@rjc.co.za, www.rjc.co.za deals with domestic violence situations. They sent us the case study below. Although people think that domestic violence always involves women being abused by their partners, there are cases where the male is the one on the receiving end.

The Restorative Justice Centre (RJC) recently dealt with a matter in which a husband opened a case of assault against his wife after she had thrown cutlery at him which left him with a scar on the chest after a heated argument.

During a conversation with the wife she asserted that she acted in self defense as he had been abusing her for the past 8 years in their 20 years of marriage.

The couple willingly participated in a Victim Offender Conference which was facilitated by a social worker from RJC. Both parties had the opportunity to express themselves and lay out any hidden feelings and aggravations that they had.
 
During the session, it soon became apparent that the wife was abusing alcohol. This was one of the factors that contributed to the couple’s conflict.

The RJC social worker assisted the couple in finding common ground and agreeing on certain ground rules.

The wife acknowledged the strain that her alcohol abuse put on her family and was willing to go for rehabilitation. She also agreed to seek new ways to deal with stress.
Even though there is still a long road that this couple has to walk together, with RJC’s continued intervention, the journey will no longer be one devoid of hope.