Chapter 12 – “Now to get rid of her”

The respected country’s court, in their order issued end May 2012, said that I am allowed to establish myself in the apartment. This is after this husband threw me out of the house midnight 8 May 2012. I was told by this father to go or he will phone the police, his reason being I am not allowed to sleep there. But, when having to answer for his action, this father in his court documents in our native country said his actions were taken on his advocate’s and the social service worker’s “advice”. This meant they were accomplices. Laws in this respected country forbade what this father, his advocate or the social service worker did and advised.

I arrived back in the respected country on 13 November 2012. Feeling tremendously disappointed at not having succeeded in protecting and helping my children through our native country’s court. There they spoke the children’s language and for the children this would have been ideal. Now I was back in this respected country where people experienced difficulty understanding you speaking an international language in the supermarket. Let alone the unabashed lies of some people in this respected country, of having assessed and spoken to my children when neither the children nor they spoke each other’s languages.

I opened the apartment after being away for six months. Clothes of mine that had been in the house, hanged in the entrance hall. I went upstairs. The printer, copier, scanner and fax machine were gone. The telephone and all the telephone wires were removed and the wireless modem was gone. The phone line was cut off. Even my mop, my handheld vacuum cleaner and coffee press were gone. The main bedroom door, which I left locked, stood open and a stack of mail was lying on the bed. These were mostly invoices from the hospital, acquired throughout my attempts to be assessed and admitted. Some had notifications of legal action. The place had been ransacked. Things that were not lying in plain view, for example, pictures, documents, my old house key with my post box key attached to it were gone. I was still registered at the house address, and had no access to my mail. This husband took out all his personal possessions, e.g. clothes and shoes that he kept in the apartment. My clothes and cosmetics from the house were randomly stuffed into drawers and cupboards. This husband’s study was emptied of the papers that used to be in piles on the floor along the wall. The papers he did not want laid strewn around and two huge boxes filled with rubbish was left. The least this husband could have done was to throw away his own rubbish. I got the impression someone had lived in the apartment. Some of my personal care products had been used and the heating, I left turned off, was turned on full. Trying to use the wireless internet, I realised this husband changed the pass code.
I myself witness this husband’s advocate standing in court and saying this husband is doing his best to support his “mentally unstable” wife and how upsetting it is to him that his wife is “mentally unstable”.
Evidence of this husband’s “support”: He harassed and threatened me after telling me he is called a pedophile. He invaded my privacy. He continued to harass me and my children after I had gone to the police. He lied in police reports and to the social service worker. He physically abused me. His lies got him full control over these small children. He threw me out of my house, proceeding in torturing me and my children with our emotional need for each other. After succeeding in getting me into our native country, he wrote a letter to the bank withdrawing himself financially from me, which resulted in the bank blocking my credit card. He wrote a letter to the airlines withdrawing his credit card on my flight ticket he booked. He continues to try to alienate my children from me, disregarding their young ages and need for me and the psychological impact this has on them. He continues lying, manipulating and intimidating in courts. He is trying to remove me, with plans and schemes, from our medical aid policy, this to avoid taking responsibility for doing it openly. He and whom ever else again invaded my privacy and moved my belongings out of the house I was still registered at. He raided the apartment he threw me in and took the key to the mailbox where I receive my mail.

Let’s not forget his “emergency” divorce that he filed for reasons of his wife that, as with others, he says is calling him a pedophile and is mentally unstable, according to him.
Apart from me still having a roof over my head by court order, I could not see how this father’s advocate could voice the word support. Unless she puts a different meaning to the word than what it means to me.

This father still had both the front door key and the interior door key of the apartment. This made me uncomfortable, but it was hopeless to say this.

The visiting rights given to me in our native country were not applicable in this respected country. I went to see my advocate and asked her to organise visitation. She replied she did not know how to. She will have to make a study.

I went again to the youth police for protection of children where I again tried to be heard and was dismissed.
Next was the police business division, informing them of this father’s business activities and my contribution involving his money. One document showed that this father had a trust account in a fraudulent name. He took his second name and used it as his surname. A bank email depicted this man’s salary, showing this husband is lying in court. They made copies of the documents. Some accounts were in the name of my business in my native country, which I had closed at this point. I was asked to approach the bank. I found that this husband, to bring the money into the respected country, used an investment bank’s bank account at another bank. From there the money went to the investment bank, all still in fraudulent names. I approached this husband’s banker at this investment bank. He looked more than upset. Immediately he said he does not know me and they had no such account at their “bank” and I need to leave. I was enjoying the feeling of rocking, even a little, their boat for a change.
I approached an ordinary police station and talked of the ransacking of the apartment. No statement was taken. The police officer said they will discuss it with the social service worker?
I also told my advocate about the ransacking of the apartment and was met with disinterest.
I was upset, because it felt as if this man just did what he wanted. What upset me the most was what he was doing to my children. I decided to concentrate on saving them and to ignore all other distractions.

There was a nanny, this father and this father’s mother in the house with the children. I greeted the eldest two children through the window, when they went to school. Who ever was with the children photographed me standing at my bedroom window. This was the first time since I have been married to this man that I saw his mother in the respected country. She had not, with any of the births of the children paid any attention to them or me. She declined all invitations with excuses of being very busy.

When I met this father’s mother, she seemed helpful and giving to the people in the town near to where they lived. She regularly gave away the fruit on the farm, etc. I noticed the fruit she gave was mostly rotting and had been eaten by insects and birds.
She went for long walks with the dogs every afternoon. Once, during a visit to them, the eldest child wanted to go with her. I stood with this child when he told her he wanted to walk with her. I asked her to wait because he needs shoes and his hat. I ran to get this. When I returned she had started walking and was about 20 metres down the road. I called to her. The eldest child, having his hat and shoes, started running after her, calling out. She walked away faster, without looking back. She had her first opportunity to go on a walk with her grandson, whom she sees only once a year and showed no interest. Her everyday behaviour involved avoiding the company of her small grandchildren. Her uninvolved behaviour when we visited disturbed me for the sake of the children and I discussed it with this father, who said he will speak to his mother. After that I saw her picking up one of her grandchildren once and I took a picture of this. She also started speaking to them more.
This was in contrast to what this grandparent was like when speaking over the phone. When this father phoned to his parents on the farm, his mother would tell the children over the phone how much she misses them on the farm. She and their grandfather spoke of the animals and always told them the strawberries are ripe (even out of season), the birds had babies and this they need to see. But when we visited she showed no interest in spending time with them, did not give them strawberries and told them to stay away from her birds because they will scare them.
During our visits I heard her saying to people over the phone how very busy the children were keeping her. But she never paid attention to the needs of the children. She ignored them, unless they were doing something wrong. This father’s father added to this and kept on telling people how rich he is with his three grandchildren on the farm. This husband, when at home, had the same habits and said the same things on the telephone when speaking to people.
They would phone several people consecutively, giving the same information and creating the same impressions. This occupied them for quite a while every day, while I was taking care of my children that were, in their telephonic impressional information sharing ventures, “keeping them very busy”.
This father’s mother had manipulative, lying and controlling mannerisms. During a visit she tried to convince me, for no apparent reason, that spring union was garlic. She gave me a clove of garlic two days before this incident when I had asked her for it. She now denied she did. She continued trying to convince me, telling me that spring onion is her garlic from her garden. I told her it looks like spring onion, it smells like spring onion, it is spring onion. She turned around without a word and fetched the real garlic.
She told me when her children were small she had a piece of paper on the wall in the kitchen and her children could write on it every day what kind of porridge they wanted for breakfast. I have only seen her make one kind of cooked porridge for breakfast and once when someone visited she made two kinds. This porridge she made had to cook for at least half an hour. Her stove, around 50 years old, did not have the place or the capacity for her fantasy story.
This father’s father was present when she said this, but he made no comment. I later asked this father about what his mother had said and he very abruptly told me his mother is telling a lie and walked away. Why lie about something like that?
Many similar incidents occurred that made me frown. She has strange behaviour with food. This father had told me his mother stored food until it was rotting. There was an odd incidents when meat was taken off bones and the bones were given to me for lunch. With another meal meat was taken out of a stew as well and these pieces were placed to one side at the table by this father’s father. We were 5 grown-ups and 3 children at this table. This father’s father then said if we eat our vegetables then we can share the meat! These two pieces were cut into small pieces and divided between us afterwards. These people were wealthy, but created the impression, in many instances, as if they scratched our a meagre existence.

This grandmother insisted on having a birthday party for one of the children when he turned three, while we were on this farm. A neighbour of hers made plates of treats for each child and she put a cake on the dining room table for the grownups. But while the children ate outside she did not invite the adults to the cake inside. I waited for her, but then decided to invite them to get some cake, thinking maybe this grandmother forgot about it. I was wrong. After this party she approached me and asked me why I had done this. She said if I did not tell them about the cake, or had allowed them to take some, there would have been more left over.
After five and a half years of marriage to this father, and us having three children, this father’s mother asked me what our home telephone number is. She said she has not phoned us, because she did not have our home number. Her son had been living in that house in the respected country for 15 years. Stunned speechless, I did not give the number. After this husband told me he is called a pedophile, his parents did phone me, saying they don’t know when this son of theirs became so hard and cold. That it might have been in the army.

This father’s father seemed jovial when I met him at first. He flirted a lot with other women, even openly in front of his wife. He told a visiting lady her lips were so nice and red he can get stuck to them. She told him if he kissed her, she will vomit. He laughed at this proverbial slap in his face.
When we visited the farm with the children, this grandfather interfered a lot with how I raised the children. He was controlling and domineering. He wanted to decide if I could spend time with my children and continually ordered me to leave them alone. He also continually spoke of respect and discipline. When the children got hurt and cried, he would tell them repeatedly they are not hurting and to stop crying? And told me not to comfort them. I did not like this man’s behaviour. I refused to let my small children ride alone on the back of their pickup trucks and he told me I am raising them softly. If I acknowledged my children’s hurt by comforting them, he also said this.
When we arrived on the farm he would invite the children to come with him when he worked on the farm. After a few days it was like he had forgotten about them and just left the house, ignoring them when they asked to ride a tractor, etc.
This father told me when he was a child he got thirsty and hungry when he went with his father to the farmlands. His father ignored this until he finished his work. Because of this, when they initially invited the children with them on these farm trips that lasted for hours, I gave the children their own drinking bottles and something to eat with. It got very hot during summer in this country and small children dehydrated easily. This was met with obvious disdain from this grandfather. I ignored him. This father’s father became more controlling, manipulative and insulting towards me and this was also his behaviour in the house when not obeyed. But when he was in the company of other people he would be jovial and exuberantly giving.
This whole family’s behaviour was awkward. The youngest brother I was told belonged to a sect. This was according to his third eldest brother who had calls from people asking why this youngest brother was behaving so strangely. This brother told me he got someone to investigate this sect. Their sister was so soft spoken one could hardly hear her talk, but she had an explosive temper. She would erupt loudly over the smallest of details and even threatened my brother on the second occasion she saw him that she was going to slap him for taking a picture of her. My brother and his family left their farm immediately. This father made excuses to me about his sister being shy of pictures. I had seen her on pictures, smiling. Later this father said his sister had a fright because of an experience she had had in her work situation. This also did not make sense. She was in her parents’ house at the time and there were other people present.
Later, I also experienced her abrupt, explosive temper — setting the table wrongly according to her.
This father’s eldest brother came across calm, soft and gentle. I met a different person when he came over immediately after this father got custody of the children. This eldest brother was indeed another manipulative, cold and controlling person.

Before I married this father, my mother said she found it strange that most of these siblings, in their prime, were unmarried. I did not think much about it at the time.

Whilst staying in the small town near their farm for my visitation with the children, the people in the area spoke of how stingy and sparingly this family lived. The people joked around that this family never slaughtered their live stock for meat, but waited until some died of a disease or for a car to hit one of their stray animals on the road that passed next to their farm. They joked that with this situation now, to create a good impression with the people in town, this family will be donating animals for functions.
They wondered if my children were fed properly. I worried about this as well.

They took away these children’s bottles. Leaving them to try to help themselves, when they are thirsty, to drink out of a tap with their hands. Even at the age of two as the youngest child was. Meaning they did not want to give their time to these children’s needs. It did not matter to them that a two year old child had to adjust from being breast fed to helping himself out of a tap in a matter of three months — if not quicker.
They pushed the children not to drink anything so they did not wear diapers, meaning they don’t have to spent money on that. Even risking these children’s physical health for this aim.

I was told that this same family, that did their best to alienate my children from me and that treated my traumatised children in this horrendously hardhearted manner, spread rumours in this town of how “bad” a mother I was. This father’s mother told people that I am such a bad mother that I don’t even want my children.

I wondered if my children heard these lies that this family were telling. It broke my heart that my three small children, because of these people, might think I do not want them and did not love them.
| presumed their actions were linked to this father’s words that night after I had confronted him with what the children had said about his family: “She knows. The children told her.”

Three days after having arriving back in this respected country, I came home from an appointment to find this father, his mother, a nanny and the second child outside the house. As I came closer I saw my eldest child ringing my apartment door bell. He came down the stairs when he saw me, gave me a hug and gave me something he had made in school. I got a hug from the second child as well. I told them I loved them very much. The words sounded so empty and hollow. I used to be able to show them that I love them and now I was being prevented. These children did not understand this and just saw no action from me, proving that I loved them. They saw a mother that was not with them, while their whole world was made unstable, their needs ignored and people were hurting them.
My smallest child was inside the house. I had not held him in two months. I knew without asking that this father would never in a million years fetch him so I can say hallo to him. The eldest two children left for school and I walked up the stairs to the front door of the apartment. This father called my name. I ignored him and carried on walking, but he kept on calling. I stopped and looked at this man. The woman that had raised him stood right next to him. This father said, “If you are outside the house again when the children are outside I am going to call the police.” This father’s mother had no expression on her face.
I told him I want the keys he had for the apartment. He said, “No.” I told him if he ever comes into the apartment again, I will call the police, because I am allowed to live there now. He asked me who said so. I told him it is in the court order and I went into the apartment.

My mother arrived to come and support me. She kept a low profile, she said, because she did not want to make trouble for me with this father. This irritated me. He made himself less in my eyes with his actions. I considered him a weak human that needed to oppress, lie, manipulate, intimidate and use small children to feel strong, in control and even loved.
Not two weeks later I received a summons to be in court. In this they stated that: This father is scared. How unreasonable it was for this father to live with this fear. That his wife had now totally lost touch with reality and that he does not recognise her anymore, that I follow the children to school.
The summons requested an immediate eviction from the apartment, an immediate follow through on the emergency divorce (still called an emergency divorce seven months later) and a restraining order prohibiting me from being within 100 meters from this father and “his little family” as one of this father’s “friends” wrote in his witness statement to court.

Again an example of this “nice, compassionate” husband “supporting” his apparent “mentally unstable” wife. In reality: His attempts to get rid of me.
As for this friend of this father, who wrote this witness statement, I had not seen him in a year. On which occasion he and his wife came to visit me or/and three small boys for whatever reason, because this husband, their friend, was not at home.
At the time of me finding out about this father’s “food” for my children, this same friend of this father phoned the house several times and said, “Don’t do it,” and then had put down the phone — without saying anything else.
Another person who wrote a witness statement for this father was the man my eldest son identified as also having molested him.

Once again religion was brought into these statements. The claims were I belonged to a Christian sect and that I put a Bible in front of the door to ward off evil. Funnily enough in this husband’s initial diary/document to the court he sites an example of me having no respect for the Bible, saying he found baby wipes and salve on the Bible. These are two completely contradictory views and statements.

I have never placed a Bible in front of a door to ward off evil. The wipes might have been on a Bible without any bad intent. Further than that it is called a book and for this purpose I read it for the information inside.
Also in this summons it was said that I had physically attacked this father and his family on their farm in our native country and it was against this father’s constitutional rights to live in fear. This, when my mother and I were attacked by his youngest and eldest brothers and this father was only visible in a court room. He was nowhere to be seen at the times I picked up and brought the children back on our visits.
It was also said that, in our native country’s court, I had attacked this father with a court application and a “Hague application” had to be made to stop me.

These statements in court were such dramatic, ridiculously elaborate lies, aimed solely at stirring pity for this father — because of his claimed “reality-less wife” — it astonished me that people could not see it for what it was.
This same husband served in a gorilla war for nearly a decade. He had special training in combat, torture and interrogation. He served in the special police force for about half a decade and knew these institutions systems and operations.
There was a striking difference between this father’s documents two months before in our native country’s court and this summons now in the respected country. These documents described and depicted me as two completely different people.

During all these procedures the social service report was reverted to and revered in every court case. I still had problems reading this report as well as this father’s diary without getting upset, angry, unhappy, frustrated and loosing objectivity.

My advocate gave me very bad advice throughout all this father’s abusive and illegal actions with me and the children. She made me feel helpless with her words, “You have no rights.” But, not wanting to think everyone lost a few brain cells, I tried to rationalise her behaviour with the reason that I might not have known what her game plan was. But she did not discuss this with me. She had also said things on my behalf in court to which I had not agreed.

With this eviction, interdict and immediate divorce procedures this father had started, the court was postponed from the Thursday to the Monday. The Friday my Advocate phoned me saying she cannot handle my case. She is struggling with the international language and did not have the adequate time to spend on what my case needed. She referred me to another legal firm.

Another advocate had approached me in a coffee shop and offered to take my case. I showed him the documentation involved. He even worked out a game plan for me to give to my advocate, regarding the coming court hearing involving eviction, a restraining order, an immediate divorce, etc. He would be using this himself now.

The court hearing was postponed due to this new advocate having to prepare. This new advocate wanted to postpone the appeal, on this father getting full temporary custody of the children, as well. I had no choice and had to understand he wanted time to prepare. He did “sound” promising. His passionate speech was that of being my voice in court and standing up for the truth.
He requested visitation for me with my children (he did not need to study first). I asked that he request telephonic rights. Everyone in whose care my children was left, put the phone down when I ask to speak to my children. My new advocate said no, this is not necessary. I automatically have telephonic rights. I did not according to this father or the people he employed.

My other problem: Every-time they put the telephone down it felt as if my heart was breaking and I had to handle the feelings of disappointment, sadness and anger. This meant that if I wanted to keep my sanity I had to back down. This new advocate did not ask for telephonic rights and hence this father and his employees kept on playing games with me and my children.
This new advocate’s main aim was to proof to the court that I am normal. This is what he wanted to concentrate on in the eviction court hearing – CV, job applications, etc. This court hearing had nothing to do with the children and so this approach made sense.
On the day of the court hearing, I sat in court for about four hours. So did many other advocates, waiting for their individual cases to be called by the judge sitting in the front of this room.
Only advocates were allowed to speak in court. This was, unless you don’t have legal representation, then you can speak. I had found it astonishing that there were so many lies told in court. Taking my case as an example, this father’s advocate said what she wanted in court and it was excepted as truth. There is no investigation into the truth and no repercussions for lies.
I might be naive, but was the concept of a court room not to work based on truth? Without implementing punishment for speaking untruth, this justice system is nothing but an illusion. What use is going through the procedure if the end result is a show with no truth, and as a result, no justice and even abuse? To me it compared to taking away road limits.

The result of the visitation request was: I could see my children under supervision at a place for four hours a week. Nine months after this court had given full temporary custody to this father and had ignored me in their process. When I phoned to make an appointment at this visitation place, I was told that this is a process. They first interview me, then this father, and then the children. This, I was told by them, could take months and only after they had had all meetings, can they then allow me to see my children. The management decided themselves not to execute the court order of four hours a week. They said they can start with one hour every two weeks and then they will decide from there. “The court order did not matter.”

Since returning, I had again visited the same psychiatrist, who had previously seen me, to continue with the evaluation. I discussed this eviction notice with him and he again agreed to write a medical certificate for the court. In this he again stated that he did not find me to have any psychiatric problems.

Regardless of a professional opinion and no ruling for a court evaluation the judge in the eviction, interdict and immediate divorce hearing determined that I am not “mentally stable”. For this judge, this was the reason why I cannot be evicted. Some things apparently did have benefits. But, in front of this judge was the psychometric analysis I did in my native country and this new medical certificate by the psychiatrist, saying something completely different.

An interesting statement in the ruling of this judge is, and I quote:
Finally, despite all the respect due to freedom of thought and freedom of conscience, the public authorities cannot tolerate that parents endanger the mental and moral health of their children by instilling fear of existence of Satan, the reality of divine messages or well-founded theories of creationists, denying the achievements of science in terms of evolution of species.

The above mentioned personal opinion of this judge does not belong in a court order.
Approved teachings methods are for example:
My 4-year old’s teaching material in a compulsory school of this respected country consisted of him mostly having to colour in black witches holding magic sticks, dragons blowing flames and having to draw lines from witch to witch.
Witches are satanic. But teachers do not instil fear for these. No, they just repeatedly have the small child colour them in in everyday “teaching”. A logical question when I saw this, was: Why? According to this judge their everyday teachings are not allowed to instil fear of the existence of Satan. Do they want to instil comfort and affection towards satanism?

Here is another example: Write a letter to Santa. Look to the sky for him. Be nice for him. Your mother has taught you to do this for your Christian God, but we say this God is a fantasy.

If you punish me and my children for me being Christians, do not in the same sentence mention the words “respect and freedom” as this judge did, while claiming I have lost touch with reality. This treatment of me and my children is not respect, freedom or democracy.

If you hold a coin and you see and experience the good side (God: not killing, not lying, not stealing, etc.), do you then idealistically assume the evil side (Satan: killing, lying, stealing, fornication, pedophilia etc.) does not exist? I do suppose it is easier for the devil to get his work done in secret, while people ignore his existence or are taught to be comfortable with it. There is a lot less interference, resistance and obstacles for him.

Granted,I did wake up late, but I tried teaching my children to recognise Satan’s weapons: Lies, false realities, false impressions and people abusing their feelings. I taught my children God’s moral values and that there are consequences for their actions. How acknowledging your actions, and taking responsibility for it and asking forgiveness, meant the difference of going to heaven or hell. I taught them that they have a Father in Heaven that loves them. They should try to do good for Him. I told them that they are God’s children, because all children belonged to God. To Him they are beautiful and they can call on Him.

Living in an untruthful, unreal, fake fun, fear-filled, false love and creation of fake impressions world makes it difficult to accept teachings and confirmation of safety, compassion, acceptance and true love.