Asylum Network

Stories of Survival

Sarah K

Africa

Victims of spousal abuse are rarely granted asylum in the United States on that basis alone, no matter how brutal the abuse. So in at least one respect, Sarah K. was “fortunate” that her husband — the man who terrorized her for 10 years — was a government official.

Ordinarily, Sarah might have expected marriage to an official in a developing country to offer a life of relative comfort. But before she could settle into the marriage, her husband became so cruel so quickly that, in less than a year, she needed a way out.

“Almost every week I suffered some form of physical abuse from my husband,” she said, her head shaking slightly with the lingering tremors caused by his abuse. “He punched me, slapped me, pulled me by the hair.” The beatings inflicted cuts, bruises, and scars. At least one attack left Sarah unconscious. Worse still, Sarah’s children were also victimized by his violent outbursts.

Sarah found little recourse from this abuse. The police, who rarely intervened in such cases, offered no assistance. When she filed for divorce, the judge instructed her to go home and keep quiet. “The judge advised me to drop my divorce proceedings as it could hurt my husband's political career and would cause me to have problems.” she said.

Life did not improve for Sarah. The beatings, in fact, became more frequent, more brutal. Vividly aware that the legal system offered her no protection from her husband, Sarah began to seek her own way out. She secretly financed the construction of a small home to which she might escape by selling clothes, perfume and jewelry. When her husband finally drove her out, Sarah and her children had no choice but to move into this little house long before it was completed. “It was the only place where my children and I could live,” she said. “We had to live in very wretched conditions. The unfinished house did not have a roof, and when it rained, the water came through the ceiling.”

The hardship continued. Neighbors who knew her husband often vented their anger with the government toward Sarah and her children. “They abused us and threatened to kill us,” she said. Their fear and isolation became unbearable after several neighbors attacked Sarah’s children as they walked home from school. Violence had spread into every facet of their lives.

Having exhausted all the options available to her, Sarah fled. She obtained a visitor's visa and left for the United States with her children. Upon their arrival, they stayed at a shelter for 16 months, “at which point I looked for a lawyer to get a visa to stay here. I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay — I had too many problems over there.”

Sarah received the legal help she needed from the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society. She also received help from Physicians for Human Rights Asylum Network member Dr. Kenneth Kosik, a neurologist who conducted a detailed clinical interview and neurological examination documenting the medical evidence of the beatings she had suffered.

In March of 2002 Sarah was granted asylum in the U.S. “It made a big difference that her husband was a high ranking official,” said her attorney Reena Arya. “But we have had other cases granted where the husband was not a high ranking official and there are no other factors in the country to protect the woman.”

Tall and lean, Sarah recounts her ordeal matter-of-factly today, as she speaks in a soft whisper, as if exhausted. She has long since spent the savings she brought to the U.S. and now earns money babysitting and tending to the elderly. In the meantime, her children are attending public school. One of them wants to be a journalist. Looking back on her long ordeal and pondering her children’s future, Sarah concluded, “It's better for them here.”

© Physicians for Human Rights