I am Fahmida Suma, and this is my story…

I was 16, life was great.. I was a bubbly girl with many aspirations.. I loved singing, painting and hanging out with friends and family. Every moment of my being was to have fun and bring joy to others. All the other parents would use me as an example to their kids and say how friendly and well behaved I was… My parents were really proud of me.

My world could not be any better but little did I know that all that was about to change.

A friend of mine introduced me to someone, who I found to be charming. Like me, he was also Muslim and Bangladeshi. He had all the quality a teenage girl like me looked for.. He was much older and very mature…. He sung and spoke in a poetic tone… which swept me off my feet. He had a way with people; everyone seemed to adore him. I fell in love and felt like I was living in a dream..

We hung out a lot and the more I got to know him, the more I felt my affection towards him growing. But one day I get a call from him; he was emotional and lost. He told me he was at a detention centre, about to be deported from Australia. He tells me he loves me and the only way out for him was for us to get married. Only I could save him.

Being an emotional girl who lived in a lala land, I wanted to be with him… So, on my 17^th Birthday in January, I left home like any other day, in my school uniform to get married… I was told by him that in Islam it is legal to get married at the age of 17. I caught the bus and arrived at his place where he had organised a friend who was also a celebrant to marry us… I borrowed a Saree from one of his housemates and got dressed myself to get married… everything seemed like a blur… I guess I didn’t understand the consequences and the lifelong commitment I was getting myself into… To me I knew I loved him and if I had the means to help him out, then why not?

We married that afternoon. After that I changed back into my school uniform and returned home. I prayed Magrib and begged Allah (SWL) to not to get caught by my parents and that I made the right decision. I lived with my family for a year after our marriage and kept it a secret.

Soon after we were married, I started noticing certain behaviours, which I didn’t notice before. He was not what he seemed before our wedding. He became very possessive and questioned about everything I did. He talked about his ex-girlfriend all the time and compared me with her at every opportunity.

And one day.. the worst happened –  because of an argument he slapped me across my face… the whole world around me stood still…. I was so shocked and confused about what just happened. And his voice in the background saying how uncontrolled I was and I don’t listen to him… This opened the floodgates of physical and mental abuse. A year went by and I started doubting myself at every step and started to believe that he may be right… may be everything he disapproved of was my fault and he is much more mature than me so he must be right.. this went on for almost a year…

Then one day in December, it all came tumbling down.. somehow my brother found out about our marriage and when I got home that day, I was confronted by my whole family… My family was deeply disappointed and outraged by what I had done… the whole night went on being interrogated and yelled at for what I did. The abuse didn’t just stop with my husband; my brother, my own flesh and blood beat me up for the shame I caused him. I was so broken and frightened, I didn’t know what to do… all I could do was cry… I felt alone, unwanted and unworthy..

They say time heals everything… but for me it worsened.. I couldn’t bear the thought that I hurt everyone I cared about.. I was the cause of all this misery and disappointment. I brought shame and humiliation to my family. I kept thinking I was married and at that time the understanding I had of Islam, you are only to marry once. If I listened to my parents I would have to end it.. I had overwhelming thoughts and distress in my mind… and I could not share these thoughts with anyone. I spent a week locked up in my room having these thoughts… I kept on thinking I didn’t deserve to live anymore…. I thought everybody was better off without me..

So, one morning I took a blade and cut my wrist open… at one point my mum came into my room to check on me…. And there I was lying on my bed in a pool of my blood…. My mum screamed for help…

after 16 stitches and a few hours at the hospital I came home..

Late that night, I heard a knock on my window.. when I looked out, there he was standing outside my bedroom window telling me, if I loved him I was to leave everything behind right now and join him. My heart was pounding so loud and that it’s all I could hear…… my whole body was shaking and tears were rolling down my face…. I was having to decide between my husband and my family… I was torn between the two choices. this would decide my entire life ahead of me.. for a split second I felt the love I have for him and that is what decided my path for the next 8 years.

I left that night… left everything behind.. my family, my friends, my life, to follow a new journey with a man who I barely knew. I eloped in the middle of the night barefoot… Little did I know that I was being manipulated into marrying him, so I could be used to get his citizenship in Australia…

The reality hit very quickly.. and things started going downhill… I was expected to cook and clean and keep the house tidy at all times. I was expected to be a perfect house wife.

Few months into my TAFE degree, my husband told me I had to go to Bangladesh to apply for his visa. He did not have the option of extending his visa on shore. Again, I dropped everything, deferred my studies and went to Bangladesh with him…

In Bangladesh his behaviour with me became cruel. He would often yell at me in front of his family and emotionally torture me. One day he slapped me because he didn’t feel I respected his family.. scared and confused, I could not understand why I was being treated in such a way, when I left everything just to be with him and to help him.. I was brought back to my dark thoughts again, alone, and torn, so I cut my wrist again.

I was stitched up again, and yelled at for being such an inconvenience.

Yet, I was madly in love with this man and I would do anything to make him happy. I asked for his forgiveness and cried to him until he did.

I returned to Australian after the visa application was submitted but the control and manipulation went on over the phone. He accessed our bank statements online from Bangladesh and questioned my every move. I spent countless amounts of nights sobbing and asking for forgiveness.. I could not continue with my degree in Interior Design.. and enrolled into another course for the following semester.

He arrived a year and a half later… I was thrilled! The love of my life is returning to me.

Our new journey began. I was working and studying hard and managed to get myself into university and get a job in the Government but the violence at home got worse and at this point I was getting beaten almost every other night. He barely worked, in the name of studies. And he changed from subject to subject…He had control over all our finances and I was told I was too stupid to manage money. I was given $20 pocket money every week, which I was to save for something bigger.

Blame became part of my daily life… any little mistake and I was paying the price for it.. and it was all my fault… It was my fault that I was not earning a lot of money, while being a perfect house wife. It was my fault for not being able to fold the laundry in time and vacuum the house every second day. It was my fault not being able to cook fresh meals every night. It was my fault not being able to save my $20 pocket money. It was my fault I was keeping touch with my family. It was my fault I was screaming from pain after I was beaten…. It was my fault I was crying myself to sleep… It was my fault being a child and being myself……

Every time I was punched and beaten with objects around the house like, wooden spoons and shoes, I just prayed to Allah to give me patience, to show me light. I kept on asking the God Almighty what I was doing wrong for which I was being punished. Every time I screamed and cried from pain I was questioned why I was creating such drama?? Why couldn’t I keep it down, as I was being punished for my own doing.

On a number of occasions, I shared the state of our relationship with his friends and his younger brother but almost every time I was pushed back into it. Nobody took a strong enough stance to tell me what was wrong with our relationship.

I always had a guilty conscience that made me feel it was my decision to marry him and it was my decision to elope with him and I had to put up with the consequences. I could not share any of this with my family…Looking back, I know that in our part of the world, nobody is taught how to deal with abuse, so I just prayed to Allah to give me strength and took one day at a time.

By then we had bought a house together.

One summer, his mother came to visit us in Australia. Things went from bad to worse. The physical and mental abuse continued and now it was multiplied. He beat me in front of his mother and then made me get down to her feet for forgiveness. The pain I felt at the time was so intense and I saw no light and no way out of this darkness.

Then one day, my worst nightmare came true.. the physical abuse escalated and at one point he started to strangle me. He held me down on the bed and pressed his hands around my throat as hard as he could, until the point I couldn’t breathe anymore. I fought with every breath left in me to survive. Then he left me on the bed alone and walked away. That whole night I laid there with tears rolling down my face thinking…. What was I doing? Is this the life God has set for me? Is this what I was born to experience?? I did not want to live anymore… Once again I tried taking my life… I swallowed four boxes of Panadol and Neurophens hoping to never wake up.. But God had other plans for me… so I woke up in the morning… struggling to talk and walk and function, I made my way to work.

Amongst all the beating, emotional and physical abuse my work and studies kept me focused. I studied harder when I was in pain. I knew this was the only part of me I don’t have to share with anyone and it’ll make me stronger and more independent. I found peace at my workplace, where I was valued and appreciated for what I did.

One day at work I met a colleague, name Lisa. Somehow we clicked straight away and as days went by we became closer. She started asking me questions, questions I really had to think long and hard to find answers to. And by answering the questions I was finding clarity in many aspects of life. I call her my gift from God!

I was madly in love with this man still and all I wanted was to fix our marriage. I wanted him to love me and respect me the same way I did. And after many trials of counselling by friends and family, I knew our relationship needed professional help. I organised to see a marriage counsellor. We attended the session together and from that it was apparent our relationship needed a lot of work. Even without telling the psychologist about the physical abuse, he picked up hints from our body language. The counselor gave both of us a few exercises to do before the next session. He refused to follow them, as it seemed like jokes to him. What could a white Australian marriage counselor possibly know about marriage between two Muslim Bangladeshis anyway? The abuse continued.. and he didn’t attend any other sessions.

One day he slapped me again and that was it.. I for the first time picked up the phone and dialled 000. But I did not have the courage to speak. So As soon as the operator picked up the phone, I hung up. They called back straight away and asked me what was wrong. With great hesitation I said I was slapped by my husband. My heart was aching from pain and my body was trembling…. I could not stay standing.

The Police arrived soon after and questioned both us separately. He denied of ever abusing me in any way.

My intention was never to break the marriage and until the last possible moment I had hoped with all my heart and prayed to be back together. I believed in being married once and once only. All I wanted from him was to love me and treat me right. I wanted us to mend our marriage by getting professional help but he refused to do that. Even after the doctor diagnosed him for anxiety he refused to go back to the doctors.

The day I shared all of this with my parents, I knew there was no turning back. My parents were in complete shock but they were more supportive than I have ever imagined. I was afraid my mum and dad would judge me for what I did. But I was astonished to discover the complete opposite. They took me in their arms and told me it was ok and they were here for me. My grand dad (Nannu) was another person who stood next to me. He was so wise and gave me strength to move forward.

It was a long and painful battle of overwhelming emotions, the lawyers and court and all the expenses. I was diagnosed with depression. But I knew I had to keep going. I was ready to spend the rest of my life alone, at least I knew I will not be abused. I knew I had to work very hard to be independent but I just had to do it.

When I decided to separate, I didn’t even know how to open a bank account. But for the first time I saw a little glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel. I am not sure what kept me going but even through the darkness I subconsciously managed to develop a resilience that got me five different promotions within the first two years after the separation; I completed my studies and I am now married.

My husband just…happened on me. He kind of came out of nowhere. Himel and I became friends when I was at my worst. I was a complete mess and involving myself in another relationship was the last thing in my mind and he respected that. We became very good friends until we decided to take it to the next level. And that wasn’t easy either, being a divorcee in the Muslim Bangladeshi community is never easy. People like to talk. But we overcame that hurdle together and got blessings from our parents. Marriage with Himel is a blessing. He believes in me and respects me and loves me for who I am… He helps me see life from a completely different perspective, which I didn’t think existed.

I graduated in Bachelor of Business Administration two years ago.

I feel like I was born at the age of 25.

This experience broke me and reshaped me. I don’t regret making the choices I made in life but do not wish it on even my worst enemy. It made me who I am today and I am so thankful for that. I have greater appreciation and gratitude for life. I love life alhamdulillah! And I know I have a purpose to give back to the less fortunate. I also found religion. The religion that sets me free. Not the religion that ties me down.

I was lucky and blessed to have friends and family who truly cared for me and I survived. But not everyone would have that.

And I am sharing this story with you for that reason. Because I strongly believe it is all of our responsibility to talk about what is acceptable and what is not. It is our duty to spread awareness to the vulnerable and the younger generation, so they don’t end up in a similar situation and they feel free to talk.