‘It has gone on too long’: Rebecca Poulson on family violence that destroyed her family
THE day before my one-year-old nephew Bas was stabbed to death I had gone with him, my sister and my niece Malee to the teddy bears’ picnic.
I smiled at Bas who was at my feet wobbling around on his little legs. His nappy-padded bottom jiggled in rhythm with Bob the Builder.
I had breathed a sigh of relief that he was staying in one spot for more than 60 seconds. Suddenly, he had caught sight of his hero as the sea of children parted and his shoeless feet took off.
By the time I had arrived at the six foot high security fence built to keep all those overexcited children away from their favourite characters, Bas was on the other side. Somehow, Bas was always on the other side of whatever was meant to keep children out. He was a trailblazer, a pint-sized Houdini. There was no opening. How had he done it?
Bas danced sturdily and confidently, a large dance floor all to himself. He looked very, very, very pleased. Suddenly, a security guard had swooped down.
“Who does this one belong to then?” he boomed out in a friendly manner. ...
Inspired by our participation with the Write to End Violence Against Women awards organised by Zero Tolerance, we are now collecting examples of good journalism and writing about domestic and sexual violence and abuse to make it clear that it is possible to write about DSVA without resorting to myths, misrepresentations, minimisation and victim blaming.
Download this post as PDF? Click here