Withdrawal of sex abuse cases undercuts the law

THE year is 2005 and it is a chilly Monday morning as I usher the first witness in a child rape case into my small office.

The suspect is a 55-year-old rural man from Ndabakazi village near Butterworth in the Eastern Cape.

I had already consulted with the nine-year-old victim. That morning she showed the signs of a person who had had nothing to eat so I offered her my lunch pack.

I turned to the mother to ask if her child was worth any sum of money?

I was dumbfounded when she said that she did not want to be part of this case anymore.

In my mind I saw another heartless criminal escaping from justice. I saw yet another young victim of sexual violence growing up in fear.

I could see the foundation of moral fibre shifting beneath the feet of all community members who would know about the incident and the progress of the case. It was clear in my mind that more people from this area would refrain from lodging complaints or filing cases against such perpetrators.

In my shock and dismay, I still had to draw on my legal faculties and allow the rules to guide my intervention in the case. Although it was difficult for me to swallow what she was saying, I still had to be calm for the sake of the child who had suffered such brutal sexual assault allegedly perpetrated by a man who should have been a role model.

So in my state of shock and involuntary calmness, I advised the mother to tell the judge so that he could know about the payment and her difficulty with the prosecution of the alleged perpetrator.

In my resolve to continue with the case, I then proceeded to interview the woman using the statement she had sworn under oath as if the money issue had never been raised.

In court I called her to the witness box and asked her to relate her story as it was relayed to me during the consultation process.

Her story was recorded and eventually the accused was convicted and sentenced to eight years imprisonment.

This case reminds me of many cases that do not make it to court because parents accept apologies and compensation in the form of money, or because victims withdraw cases after being persuaded by perpetrators.

The parents are oblivious to the psychological effects of rape on a child who is scarred for a lifetime and faces endless trauma as a result.

They are also oblivious of the sleepless nights and the hard work put in by the police and prosecutors to compile a formidable case. Little is said about the fact that all that energy and resources could have been channelled to other important cases.

You may expect such a response from uneducated poor families, but when high profile celebrity female victims adopt this stance it flies in the face of tireless and monumental efforts made by law enforcement, the Na tional Prosecuting Authority (NPA) and the courts to aggressively deal with the escalating scourge of both sexual and domestic violence in the country.

Many suffer in silence while many refuse to co-operate with law enforcement officers after laying domestic violence charges, therefore making the life of police and prosecutors difficult.

But why suffer in silence when government has invested a lot in ensuring effective measures to protect victims of domestic and sexual violence with protection orders, victim support services like Thuthuzela care centres and sexual offences courts?

As a former prosecutor who has dealt with many rape cases, I urge victims of violence and abuse to trust the criminal justice system: Many officials in the criminal justice strive to ensure that justice is seen to be done.

This was evident in the 25 life terms handed down to the Tholeni serial rapist and killer Bulelani Mabhayi, and in the case of Gauteng “corrective rapist” Andile Ncetha who was recently sentenced to 20 years in jail.

We all need to unite in preventing violence and abuse against vulnerable people. Kwanele! (Enough is enough)

Mthunzi Mhaga is spokesperson for Justice