My mother said I was lucky that the offer came from a good man who was 28 years old and worked for a law company. I begged and I pleaded with my parents not to force me into this marriage but they said it was for my own good. It wasn’t long before my parents were looking for venues and his parents were measuring my wrist for wedding bangles.

The date was set for us to become husband and wife seven months later.

My friends would talk about their own dream weddings, the gowns they wish to wear so when I explained to them that I didn’t want to be married they said I was crazy, they called me a fool and said Allah would punish me for being so ungrateful. Marriage was the ultimate goal for all of my friends but it wasn’t my goal. My goal was to become a doctor.

I was terrified and didn’t know how to stop it or get away from it.

For the next few months, I was so afraid and so alone I never imagined my parents would force me to marry someone. I was having nightmares about being locked inside a building almost every night and I’d wake up sweating and crying. I told my mother but she told me I had to stop with this ridiculous behaviour, it was dramatic and would bring great shame on our family.

I didn’t know who I was marrying, all I knew was that he was 28, a lawyer and nothing more than that.
One day my family and his parents agreed for us to speak on the telephone, I didn’t want to talk but eventually I did and the only question I asked was, “will you able me to go to school?” He said “Yes, yes, I’ll allow you go to school, Don’t worry about a thing.” The first time I met him was on the day before our wedding, at his family’s home. We sat quietly, sipping our tea, only our families spoke. We said nothing.

The second day we met was at my parents house for the wedding. I told my mum I didn’t want to go through with the marriage and wanted to run away, she said “How dare you be so rude, after all we have given and done for you and this is how you repay us? If you bring disgrace and shame on this family you will no longer be a part of it”.

Someone then put the marriage license on my dressing table and told me to sign it. So I did.
Later that day was the first ceremony, held at five star restaurant. I wore a long red lehenga sari, and just sat there quietly looking down at my hands. Lots of fairy lights and red ribbons filled the the room and everyone was so happy, laughing, singing and dancing until late in the night.

The second ceremony was 2 weeks later which was my wedding night. In the meantime I stayed at my family home and my new husband stayed with his family. Our first date was one evening and we went out to eat with his older brother and his wife. I was so shy and I barely spoke a word.

We talked online occasionally, over Messenger or spoke a couple of times over the telephone .

It was a slow process but I grew more comfortable with the marriage. I didn’t find my husband attractive or funny but he seemed pretty normal. He suggested university, he also agreed that It would be smart for me to finish school before having children.

He said all the right things. I realised when we moved back over to the U.K he didn’t mean any of it.

After being in the U.K. for a month he told me his parents was coming and that he planned for them to live with us. We moved out of our bedroom into the smaller room so his parents would be comfortable.
Everything changed very quickly when they arrived. We stopped spending any time together and his mother got very angry and upset when ever he paid any attention to me or spoke to me.

When I asked if I could call my parents in Dubai they would say international calls was too expensive so I wasn’t allowed to call them.

I never had money of my own. My mother in law gave me her old clothing items. I wasn’t allowed to go out on my own only to one of my husbands cousins house. She recently gave birth so they insisted I go and do chores. My husband and his parents didn’t know she was so different to them. She was so nice and extremely kind.

If I didn’t iron all my husband’s and in-laws clothes, make the food or finish all my chores, he would beat me with a stick or a belt. He never said my name, he only ever called me Bitch.

Many times he picked up a knife and said he was going to kill me and then kill himself.

He would grab my wrist, shove me around, slap or punch me in the head, and he grabbed my wrists and arms so tight my skin was always bruised. Once I was in the shower and I picked up a razor blade and thought about cutting my wrists. I believed my unhappiness was my own fault.

One night I was at his cousins house, she was talking to someone over the telephone. I heard what she was discussing, which was all about abuse. Once she had finished her telephone call she told me about her friend that worked helping many victims of domestic abuse. She went on to tell me all about this friend who was English and like a sister to her. She was so proud and happy about the work she was doing to help so many people.

If I didn’t iron all my husband’s and in-laws clothes, make the food or finish all my chores, he would beat me with a stick or a belt. He never said my name, he only ever called me Bitch.

Many times he picked up a knife and said he was going to kill me and then kill himself.

He would grab my wrist, shove me around, slap or punch me in the head, and he grabbed my wrists and arms so tight my skin was always bruised. Once I was in the shower and I picked up a razor blade and thought about cutting my wrists. I believed my unhappiness was my own fault.

One night I was at his cousins house, she was talking to someone over the telephone. I heard what she was discussing, which was all about abuse. Once she had finished her telephone call she told me about her friend that worked helping many victims of domestic abuse. She went on to tell me all about this friend who was English and like a sister to her. She was so proud and happy about the work she was doing to help so many people.

She said I should meet her and she would call her over for food some time. I did meet her friend the following week.

She was lovely, I was so shocked that she could speak our language and the fact that she worked in the Middle East before she returned to the U.K meant she could relate to me and knew so much about our culture, we had lots to talk about.

I met her a few times and she picked up on certain things. I was absolutely terrified to tell her and to admit what was going on so at first I didn’t say anything. I did eventually tell her.

My husbands cousin was bathing the baby and I told her what my husband and his family was saying and doing to me which made me so afraid of them and I didn’t know what to do. She reassured me that she would help me but I needed to trust and believe her. I knew that I did. She told me about the plan she had and I was so scared but she told me I shouldn’t worry because she was going to make sure I was safe and that I wasn’t alone anymore, because I had her.

One evening I was in the kitchen, my husband and his family was sitting in the living room, when a loud banging came at the door. A woman standing at the door wearing a niqab and salwar kameez, speaking our language perfectly, saying she needed me to go with her right away because my husbands cousin needed me to go to her house urgently and quickly.

This lady will be in my prayers every day and forever she will be my English. I’m now free because of what she did.

One day I hope and I pray to stand publicly by her side and tell the entire world just exactly what she did for me and what she has made possible.

I have the gift of life.

I can live without fear and I have my freedom. One day my dream of becoming a doctor will hopefully become a reality and this is only possible because of a very special lady.

I hope she reads this and will know how grateful I am for all she has done. I hope she will know that I’m now the happiest that I’ve ever been in this lifetime.

Bismillah Al-Rahman Al-Raheem

I pray to god and ask him to grant my English sister with every blessing in this lifetime.
I pray for her protection and ask she is kept safe and happy every day and always.

Forever your eternally grateful sister.

Yasmin (Survivor)

Next story – Trudy’s story.