‘I was beaten, raped, abused and not allowed to see my daughters. Then they were stolen from me’

Rachel Attard Sunday, 18 October 2015, 11:30 Last update: about 11 years ago

Jacqueline Vassallo, a British citizen, endured a living hell after her marriage to a Libyan ended up in disaster. Her harrowing tale is the subject of a new book, Stolen Childhood, written by Mikela Fenech Pace. Here she tells Rachel Attard part of her story

I was a 17-year-old girl from Cardiff and one day I was passing by Cardiff University and saw this handsome guy standing next to his car. I immediately realized that he was foreigner; in fact he was from Libya. A few months later we met again in a bar and started dating. There was an age difference of five years.

When I was dating him, I knew that my father would not be pleased that I was dating a foreigner, so for some time I had to hide the relationship from him. In those days, dating a foreigner was considered to be something of a taboo. But then, after almost a year dating him secretly, I had to come clean because my father’s friend had seen us together. I still remember the day when I told my father; he went ballistic, but after some time he decided to accept him in our family.

I must admit I had no clue where Libya was and no idea of their culture and religion, the reason being that he never showed me or did anything different from us. He used to like to go out drinking with his friends and doing things like any British young man would do. I also never saw him praying or showing any of his Muslim religious beliefs.

After five years of going out together, we decided on a civil marriage in the UK since our religions were different. A few weeks after we got married, I got pregnant with my first child and nine months later Najla was born. He was happy when the first child was born, but with every new female birth he became increasingly disappointed until finally, when I had the fourth girl, Karima, I overheard him telling his friends “It’s a girl” with a dismissive snigger.

The first time I saw him praying was when I was pregnant with my second child Nadia. I remember walking into our bedroom and found him kneeling down with his head on the floor and wearing a long white nightie. I immediately asked him what he was doing and his reply was: “From now on you do not mix with people, you do not drink, and I am practising my religion.” From that point he started getting more and more religious. He also started checking the ingredients of the food we bought to see how much animal fat it contained. Eventually, he started cutting himself off from everyone. He went to work, came home, ate his food and prayed. He went into a world of his own.

After 20 years living in the UK and after our youngest daughter was born, he decided to go to Libya for a holiday. He went by himself for a month. When he came back he told me that he wanted to take the two eldest daughters to Libya for a holiday to meet his family. Najla, the eldest absolutely refused to go with him; he was very disappointed, so he took Nadia and Samira. When he returned a month later, the first thing he told me was that he wanted to go back to Libya for good. So, against my better judgement and the wishes of my family, I agreed to go just to save my marriage.

He decided that he would take Najla and Nadia to Libya and I was to stay in the UK with my other two daughters, sell our belongings and then go and meet him in Libya. When he arrived in Libya, his contact with me was pretty good but as time went by it became become less and less frequent and I was getting very worried to the point where there was no contact at all. I was so lost and sad that I took an overdose. One of his friends in the UK managed to get in touch with him and told him what happened. Eventually, he called me and told me to meet him in Malta with our two youngest daughters. I agreed to meet him there but refused to take them with me. When I arrived he apologised for what he had done but never gave an explanation why he did it. He told me that I should trust him as he needed to go back to Libya to get Najla and Nadia’s passports and then meet me again in Cardiff. Being naïve and not knowing what Libya was at that time, I didn’t realize that once the children were in Libya they automatically became Libyan citizens because the mother was not recognized, only the father was. So the passport story he invented was a completely lie because the children were registered on his Libyan passport.

Six weeks later, I got a phone call that he and the girls were coming to the UK. When he arrived the relationship between us changed completely because I did not trust him and wanted a divorce. He started sending his friends to convince me to change my mind and realize how difficult it was to raise four children on my own. He also went to my parents to apologise and that he was sorry for what he had done. My parents believed his lies and told me to patch things up. In my heart, I knew that could not trust him again but I told myself that for the sake of the children I would sacrifice my life, wait until they were adults and then divorce him.

Najla and Nadia never told me about what happened in Libya and I still do not know to this very day. After 10 months, he wanted us to all go to Libya for a holiday so that I could meet his family. My response to him was that it was against my wishes but I would do it to keep our family united. I also warned him that I still did not trust him and the only way I could bring back the trust was if we went to Libya and came back to the UK after a few weeks. He said, “I promise that we will go for two weeks and come back.” I had also found out that when we got married and had our daughters, he did not tell his family. It was later that he had told them.

From London we flew to Malta and up to that time everything seemed normal and the kids were happy. From Malta we had to go by ship to Libya. Before we boarded the ship, he pulled out a black coat and a scarf and told me “you have to wear this”. I refused because it was very hot and humid. He told me, “You have to wear it until we get on the ship and once we are on it you can take it off,” so I agreed. When we got to our cabin I took them off and prepared the children to go and eat. As soon as I started to take them to the dining room, he turned to me and said, “You have to wear the scarf and coat otherwise the children will stay here and do not eat. This was when he changed again. At that point, I decided to wear them and take the children for something to eat.

As soon as we stepped on Libyan ground, he was a completely different person. Whatever the children and I wanted to do, we had to ask for his permission. When I used to give the children their bath, he would start knocking on the wall, telling me not to waste more water and that I was taking too long. He also ordered me to smile in front of his family, because if I did not smile I would not eat. I also remember him beating our children and the mark of his hand on one of our daughter’s face. Also, violence towards me was constant. He used to force me to have sex and if I refused he would beat me. One day, he also tried to smother me with a pillow in front of the children and beating me so brutally that my face bled. Then he opened the door and told the children “look at your stupid mother in the corner”. He didn’t want me to contact my family but one day his sister took me to a place where I managed to get in touch with them. I sent a message to my sister telling her he was keeping us here by force. It was complete control. One day, I found out that he was making arrangements for our children to start going to school. When I confronted him and told him that they were my children too, he said, “In the UK they were yours, in Libya they are mine and you have nothing to do with them.” This two-week holiday never materialized and from two weeks we were kept for five weeks.

After five weeks of hell, he told me that we two were going back to the UK to pack, sell our house and come back. The children would stay in Libya. He also ordered me to lie to my parents and told me that if I did not do that, I would not see my children again. I had no choice and just obeyed. It was very painful for me to leave them behind; in fact we left while they slept and I still have that vision to this very day.

And this is where the story of Jacqueline really begins…

Mikela Fenech Pace

The book will tell you how Jacqueline and Mikela met. It all started with an email Jacqueline sent her about three years ago. When Mikela read it and eventually decided to meet her and listen to her story, she jokingly told her that she should write a book. Jacqueline’s response was “will you write it for me” and Mikela immediately said yes.

While the book was being written, one thing that impressed Mikela was that Jacqueline had everything documented – pictures, files and letters sent to various politicians around the world including the Queen. Mikela said that “women who experienced what Jacqueline went through can understand and identify why certain decisions were taken”. It’s very easy to judge but when you are in that situation it’s a different ball game.

This book is a cautionary tale across cultures and does not refer to just the Muslim religion but different cultures in general. Also, it speaks about characters and signs in a person’s behaviour. When you read the book you realize how obvious certain signs were, but one only sees it and becomes aware of it later on in life and in the course of the relationship.