Everyday thousands of children are being sexually abused. You can stop the abuse of at least one child by simply praying. You can possibly stop the abuse of thousands of children by forwarding the link in First Time Visitor? by email, Twitter or Facebook to every Christian you know. Save a child or lots of children!!!! Do Something, please!

3:15 PM prayer in brief:
Pray for God to stop 1 child from being molested today.
Pray for God to stop 1 child molestation happening now.
Pray for God to rescue 1 child from sexual slavery.
Pray for God to save 1 girl from genital circumcision.
Pray for God to stop 1 girl from becoming a child-bride.
If you have the faith pray for 100 children rather than one.
Give Thanks. There is more to this prayer here

Please note: All my writings and comments appear in bold italics in this colour

Saturday, 16 December 2017

4 Dreadful Stories from 4 Countries on Today's Global PnP List

Top Canadian women's gymnastics official charged with multiple sexual offences
The Canadian Press 

Dave Brubaker, the women's national team director of Gymnastics Canada, faces multiple sex-related charges.

Sarnia Police said in a statement that Brubaker was charged Friday with one count of invitation to sexual touching, three counts of sexual interference, three counts of sexual exploitation, and three counts of sexual assault.

The statement said Brubaker appeared in court on Friday and was released on bail with a February 2018 court date.

Police didn't give any further details about the allegations and Gymnastics Canada said in a release that a publication ban has been imposed in the case.

The Bluewater Gymnastics Club, where Brubaker is the club director, did not immediately respond to an email seeking comment.

Brubaker was Canada's head gymnastics coach at the 2016 Rio Olympics and was the women's national team director at the this year's world championships in Montreal in October, where Halifax native Ellie Black captured the women's all-around silver medal.

Gymnastics Canada said in a statement that it was troubled by the allegations against Brubaker, who has been placed on administrative leave by the organization.

Headmaster of renowned Catholic school is accused of burning evidence into child sex abuse

Somerset: The headmaster of a renowned Catholic school may have destroyed evidence of child sex abuse, it has been claimed.

Father Leo Maidlow Davis, 63, now the senior monk at Downside Abbey, burned staff files dating back to the early 1980s in a bonfire in 2012.

However, he claimed any destruction of evidence was unintentional, saying his aim had been simply to 'get rid of unnecessary old material'. 

The fee-paying school in Radstock, Somerset, was examined as part of the Independent Inquiry into Child Sexual Abuse (IICSA).

When police investigated the alleged offences in 2010, allegations had been raised about 16 of the institution's 23 monks, The Times reported.

Witnesses described being taken into monks' beds and there were reports of a locked room in the school's basement where monks would watch personal videos.

Downside Abbey in Radstock, Somerset, was examined as part of the
Independent Inquiry into Child Sexual Abuse (IICSA)

Allegations were allegedly locked away in the abbot's safe.

Neither was penitent. Both were protected.
Abbot, Aidan Bellenger

Letters from the abbey's former abbot, Aidan Bellenger, revealed his fears that 'the issue of child abuse was tolerated by all my predecessors as abbot'. 

In a letter sent last year, he said of two monks who had been imprisoned over abuse: 'Neither was penitent. Both were protected (and implicitly) encouraged by their abbots.'

He said of two other monks: '[They] avoided trial, but their offences (more than allegations) remain on record.'

His letter included a warning that a monk who still lives at Downside had taken part in 'perverse and criminal' activities. 

Two others he said 'were open to allegations of "paedophilia"', adding: 'Small fry perhaps but in outside perceptions they would be in trouble.'

He warned: 'More "historic" cases will emerge', listing five other names, which have been redacted by the inquiry.

Two monks from the Abbey have previously been jailed for child sex offences.

Monk Richard White, 66, was handed a five-year sentence in 2012 after abusing two boys more than two decades ago, including a 12-year-old he paid 50p to hush up.

His court hearing was told that, instead of contacting the police after allegations were raised, the then abbot of the monastery simply stopped White from teaching younger students.

In 2004, Desmond O'Keefe, another former priest from the abbey, was jailed for downloading 12,000 children sex abuse images.

40 monks and teachers accused at Ambleforth

Dr Bellenger, who was abbot for eight years until 2014, has previously apologised to all former pupils affected by abuse.

The inquiry, which examined the prevalence of paedophilia among Benedictine monks and failures to protect young people, also looked at Ampleforth College in North Yorkshire, where about 40 monks and teachers have been accused of abusing children since the 1960s. 

An interim report is set to be released next year.  

Sex abuse survivors say 'old school' military won't change
Some Survivor's Stories

Tracey Topp went to court to get her name suppression lifted, after being sexually assaulted as a child by her father, air force sergeant Robert Roper, at Whenuapai air base, New Zealand.

Tracey Topp remembers witnessing the moments right before her sister was raped by their father for the first time.

Tracey was eight, Karina,11; it was just them and their dad in a motel spa pool the night before a family trip to Singapore. When he told the girls to take off their togs, Tracey started to complain. "I'm tired, I want to get out," she whinged, until he reluctantly let her put on her wet togs and go back to their room.

As she closed the door Tracey saw him pull Karina onto his lap. Tracey says she'll never be able to scrub her memory of the look on her sister's face in that moment. She has what she calls "significant survivor's guilt", although she knows in her rational mind she was only eight. She was not to blame. None of the girls abused by Robert Roper were to blame and, since 2015, he has been in jail for the evil he did to them, and to others.

Karina Andrews, Tracey's sister, was also abused.

This is the first time Tracey has spoken publicly about the abuse that took place over a dozen years in the 70s and 80s, mostly on the Air Force base at Whenuapai where her father worked in the transport division. She testified at his trial under name suppression, but has now chosen to have that lifted. The report that will show how the Defence Force intends to change its handling of sex assault cases is due out in a matter of weeks and so it's time to help others, Tracey says. The trial destroyed her, she was suicidal for a time, but now she's considering signing up for a diploma in psychology. It's time to step into the light.

Her sister Karina Andrews was the first to make that decision, lifting her own name suppression after the trial two years ago. When Roper was convicted, the NZ Defence Force tried to back away from responsibility, saying the matter had been "investigated by police and dealt with by the Courts, and the NZ Defence Force has no further comment". How galling that must have been for Karina and Tracey, who were interviewed several times by Military Police as children about the allegations – twice, incredibly, with their father in the room.

And then nothing was done.

The sisters' story is hard to hear, hard to tell, even to me on the phone. As they talk about how Karina tried to shield her baby sister from the worst of her father's abuse, about how the fight for justice has brought them closer together, I flash back for an instant to a moment in my own past.

About 15 years ago, at home in Melbourne for a family Christmas, my mother mentions in passing that a former neighbour has paid a surprise visit. Instantly at the mention of his name my hackles rise – good thing I wasn't here to answer the door, I spit, or he'd be out cold on the doorstep. My mother is nonplussed; but my older sister is looking at me with an odd intensity. We hold the look for a second, two seconds. In that moment we both realise the other was subject to the same abuse at his hands. I was 10, she would have been 12 or 13. An extra sisterly bond neither of us would ever have wanted.

Now Karina's sister Tracey has joined her in the sunlight, along with another Roper survivor, Cherie Ham; another who has bravely asked for name suppression to be lifted. I spoke to them all on separate occasions this week, and found them remarkably united in their feelings towards the Defence Force; their hopes for change; and their determination to save this from happening to any other person, male or female.

The three women have a meeting with NZDF scheduled for mid-January to see, they hope, the report in full for the first time. Survivor advocate Louise Nicholas will be with them.

All three say they'd never met Nicholas before 2015, but all had heard of her story, and took strength from her strength throughout Roper's trial. After he was convicted, they sought Nicholas' help to push for a full inquiry. That report by QC Frances Joychild has been completed, and has been with the NZDF for almost a year now. The women have had a glimpse at it once – Tracey tells me they were given eight hours with it in November last year –  although much of it redacted. "It was too much to take in that short space of time. I had to put it down."

Louise Nicholas will be with the women when they meet the Defence Force to discuss the Roper report.

Louise Nicholas will be with the women when they meet the Defence Force to discuss the Roper report.

Tracey lives in Perth now and says she won't be getting on a plane for the meeting without seeing the thing in full. She says one of the women's biggest challenges is getting access to parts of the report that would  prove her father was protected by the Defence Force 30 years ago.

"That's the thing that surprised me," she says. "We asked whether there were reporting processes in place at the time, and why weren't they followed? There were, they told us, but it wouldn't have mattered. There was no accountability."

Karina, Tracey and Cherie are united in their gratitude and admiration for Nicholas. "She's been a guardian angel," Karina tells me. "She follows through. The NZDF are afraid of Louise, because she gets s... done. We bring her along because they know she's serious."

Cherie and Tracey agree, Nicholas has been their touchstone and their rock. While adamant every woman has the right to her own truth, her own story, they're surprised by recent complaints from survivors who've questioned Nicholas' commitment.

"You're dealing with people who are traumatised," Tracey reasons. "Perhaps it was because she didn't meet their expectations. Perhaps they've built her up to be something she's not.

"But Louise is the first person to step forward and support the people who need it. I'm so thankful she was on our side. I don't think they would have taken us as seriously without her. "Let those complaints be investigated in full, those women deserve it, but I feel strongly that Louise will come out on the right side of things."

An important note in Cherie, Karina and Tracey's story is the exemplary way they say New Zealand Police handled their complaints from the moment Karina came forward in 2012.

"I rang Pukekohe police station and instead of making me come down to make a statement, they came to me at home," Karina says. "That initial contact, where I was able to talk in a place where I felt safest, was the most positive experience. That initial decision kept me going through all of it."

Karina credits one officer, Detective Bryony Brown, for taking her through the arduous process from start to finish. Brown received a commendation for her handling of the Roper case this year.

That's the kind of consistency Karina says is needed in any overhaul of NZDF processes surrounding sexual offending.

"It was so important that one person stays there with you all the way through, so you don't have to repeat your story again and again. Exposure therapy has been good for me – it doesn't hurt to tell my story any more. But that does not work for everyone."

As their January meeting approaches, I ask all three what they think of the NZDF's willingness to change – ahead of the Joychild report, it has implemented it's own programme called Operation Respect.

They're all hopeful. They're all cautious. "If it really does change, I'll be very surprised," Cherie says. 
"My gut feeling is that, no, it won't really change. They're too 'old school' – they're still back in the 70s and 80s. I'm looking forward to the briefing because for all of us, it could be the beginning of the end of all of this."

For a moment I'm overwhelmed by the bravery of these three women. A little timidly, I ask Tracey why she keeps up the fight. This could cast a shadow over her whole life – why keep going?

"I could let it go, but how's that going to help anyone? The last thing we all want is for some other person's son or daughter to experience what we've experienced. If we step back, what was it all for?"

Pakistan: Child sexual abuse rage in madrassas, muftis scare victims to silence

An economist and victim, narrated how he feels enraged to think the mufti would rape him and immediately go to lead the prayers thereafter.

Madrassa near Margalla hills, Islamabad

New York/ Islamabad: It began with sweets and pocket money when he was 10 years old - special attention from the religious cleric who ran the Pakistani madrassa, or Islamic school, the boy attended.

It escalated to rape and months of sexual abuse, the now 28-year-old young man says.

"I feel rage now when I think that after he raped me he took a bath and right away he left to lead the prayers," said the victim, an economist who lives in Islamabad.

"After that I came to know from three or four of my classmates that the mufti used to do the same with them," he said.

Speaking English, at times searching for the right words and at others apologizing for the explicitness of his conversation, he described the cleric's advances: how he took him to another mosque that was not associated with the madrassa the boy attended and then raped him.

He said he suppressed memories of the abuse for years, but after reading a report in November revealing widespread abuse by clerics in Pakistan's thousands of madrassas, they all came tumbling back.

"I read the story two times. The first time I was shocked. The things that were written there were everything I had lived. The second time I read it, the whole of my body was trembling because of the memories it brought back," said the man, speaking on condition of anonymity, not only because of the shame he felt nearly two decades later but because he feared Pakistan's religious leaders could retaliate against him either with violence or charges of blasphemy or being an apostate, both of which, he said, were tantamount to a death sentence.

He decided to approach his former classmates, to rally survivors of abuse to band together to speak out. But, he said, he was rebuffed, and firmly.

"They said 'Stop talking. This is not something to discuss.' It is so common in the madrassas here, but people don't want to talk about it. We are ashamed," the young man said.

There are more than 22,000 registered madrassas in Pakistan, and many thousands of unregistered ones, often grimy one- or two-room facilities in remote villages. The millions of students they teach are often among the country's poorest, who receive food and an education for free.

But at the madrassa this young man attended - one of the largest in the Pakistani capital, which attracted students from other parts of the country - many of his fellow students were, like himself, from middle- and upper-middle class families, "sent to the madrassa to win favour for the family from God," he said.

Naeema Kishwar, a federal lawmaker who in 2016 helped change Pakistan's laws to close a legal loophole that had allowed those who commit so-called "honour killings" to escape punishment, said that laws exist to tackle sexual abuse of minors, which she called a scourge in Pakistan, not only in madrassas but in public schools, at home and among the army of child workers who are employed in homes as domestic workers and in factories.

"Of course, it is the responsibility of the federal government to prevent abuse of children, but you must keep it in your mind that provincial governments are equally to be blamed for being unable to stop child abuse at all places, including private and government schools and madrassas," she said. "This is a common problem."

But Kishwar who is a member of the religious Jamaat-e-Ulema-e-Islam, a pro-Taliban party, took umbrage with a focus on sexual abuse in the madrassas.

Her party operates thousands of religious schools. But like the clerics who dominate her party, Kishwar, despite data and evidence to the contrary, said the incidents of abuses in religious seminaries were isolated.

Taha Siddiqui, a prominent Pakistani blogger and journalist, who has come under attack by the military and intelligence agencies in Pakistan for his outspoken commentaries, said the report was widely shared on social media, whereas the mainstream media stayed mostly silent.

He blamed fear among the mainstream media of antagonizing the country's religious leaders and because sex, even if it involves abuse, is a taboo subject.

"Such topics rarely get any coverage on national television channels. And for that reason, there were discussions on social media which were much more encouraging," he said.

Two-time Oscar winner Sharmeen Obaid, whose documentaries have given a voice to victims of acid attacks and "honour killings" in Pakistan, retweeted the story.

Sherry Rahman, a senator in Pakistan's upper house of Parliament and a close ally of Pakistan's slain leader, Benazir Bhutto, tweeted: "This is a subject we need to talk about so our children are better protected. Sexual abuse of children is pervasive at many levels of society across the class divide. We must give courage and hope for victims to speak out. "

Raza Rumi, a Pakistani journalist and policy analyst, who moved to the United States after surviving an assassination attempt by members of the militant Lashkar-e-Janghvi group, tweeted: "This had to be said. For too long we have avoided confronting such brutalities. . . End #child #abuse in #Pakistan."

But there were also virulent attacks, said Siddiqui. Some accused those who criticized madrassas of blasphemy, while others said it was a Western conspiracy to defame Islam.

Islam doesn't need the West's help to defame itself.

Says the young economist and abuse survivor: "In Pakistan the mullahs have two weapons, they can declare you an apostate or charge you with blasphemy. Both are a certain death sentence."

No comments:

Post a Comment