Abuse

Behind Closed Doors in White South Africa: Incest Survivors by Diana E. H. Russell

By Diana E. H. Russell

The purpose during this e-book is to rip away the veil of secrecy that surrounds incestuous abuse in white South Africa through providing 5 in-depth own money owed of this heinous kind of sexual exploitation as instructed by means of the survivors. each one of those bills contains an research of significant incest-related matters raised by way of the survivor's tale. one other goal is to discover the connections among the customarily merciless sexual exploitation of ladies by way of their white male kinfolk and the brutal exploitation of black humans by way of white males in South Africa.

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She gave me English books to read about it but I didn't understand English well enough, so I was shocked to find out about it when I started menstruating at eight years old. I was embarrassed about my body and very conscious of its changes. Hoffie was the eldest son of seven or eight kids. He had a very domineering personality. You had to do what he said exactly the way he wanted it or he'd punish you. If I heard his car stop outside the house, I'd try to hide, even though he punished me for hiding.

He'd slap me in the face and I'd slap him back. That made him more angry because he said a child must know her place, so he'd hit me even harder. This made me hit him back harder. Once I threw a chair at him that hit him. Another time I took a glass and threw it against his head. I threw lots of things at him. His finger was badly hurt once in one of our fights. When my father and I fight together, we both get hurt. When my life is threatened, I fight back. Sometimes I ran away because he is very strong when he's cross and it would have been all over if he'd caught me.

Men don't want to marry a woman like me', I thought, and I knew I wouldn't be able to tell them how it happened. Strangely, I was not worried about becoming pregnant and my father didn't seem to be worried about it either. He also didn't seem to worry that I might tell someone. It went on for ten years before my mother found out about it. Some people think men who do this must be drunk, but my father didn't drink. I don't think I'd be here today if I'd had my father's child. He's a real bastard and to have had his child would've been the end.

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