This Nightmare

by Wilna Sentilis

Wilna Sentilis (1994), Sabana Larga de Gonzalo Batey, Monte Plata. She studies 10th grade in high school (as per the old curriculum). Has no children. She got married at 14 years old. She has her national identity and electoral card and currently does not work.

My childhood was beautiful. It was my experience at the age of four, during Hurricane George, that my dad did not want us to leave the house, and a senior man –whom I love as a second father— came over, [and] told my mother: “Give me the younger ones.” After we left the house, the roof, which was made out of zinc planks,¹ began to fly off. That was when I realized: when my dad did not want us to walk out, I saw this older man as an angel sent to this world by God.

When I began attending school, my mother had only one pair of [chancletas: slippers]. I wore them in the mornings, and my sister in the afternoons. I have never flunked a class nor gotten an incomplete. I was always an excellent student, but I did not obey my mother. I was a daddy’s girl, the spoiled one.

But, since I was young, the only thing that horrified me was eating vacío.² When I asked my mom for meat, she would respond: [“cut it out… you guys know.”] Since my childhood, I never had the luxury of having a school bag or a pair of shoes, because my dad, as a farmer, never worked in others’ plots nor worked for someone else. I never enjoyed the Christmas holidays. My mom would scratch her belly with a rag so her stomach wouldn’t make noise so that my siblings and I could have something to eat out of the little we got for the day.³ She always cared for us, never let us go partying nor to the colmadón.⁴

From first to seventh grade I used the same school supplies and uniform, but they stayed neat and well pressed. When I had to pay to take my exams, my mom would even sell the hens. Sometimes, mad, she would tell me: “I never went to school, you too should marry. In Gonzalo a girl named Juanita got married… at nine years old… she was younger than you.”

I finished seventh grade, and when I was fourteen, I met a boy… I liked him a lot. I got married. I only stayed ten months with my first husband. He lived at his grandpa’s farm. I stayed for four months with him at the farm. Then I left with him for Yamasá, where his mom lived. He began to treat me awfully, and because of that I spent about six months putting up with his abuse… I picked up my belongings and went to my mom’s. Eight days later, he came over to pick me up with sweet talk. On top of that, my dad and my mom did not want me to go with him; I fell for his game again. I felt bad, but I was able to come to my senses. Reeling, I later returned home. My parents welcomed me warmly, yet later… I made the same mistake.

I experienced a lot with my first husband. I carefully analyzed, thought, and said: “If my mother and my father did not want me to come [here], it was for a reason.” I went back home, until today. Later on, I fell for another game because I fell blindly in love with the next one, and the same story repeated itself for more than a year. But afterwards I spent a couple of years good and alone. I went back to school in the evenings, kept it up for half a year, [and] I quit because it was too late at night (from 6pm to 9pm), paying 200 pesos for the motorcycle ride to go and come back. I went to stay with my sister in the capital for a while, but then I came back later.

I met another boyfriend named Deni: we were dating for a couple of months, then we lived together. His mom harassed me, and even wanted to kill me. Six months after we split, was when I decided to look for a job. I left to live with my sister, and I was happy to achieve what I wanted: to find a job in a family home. I started my first job at seventeen. Then I gained experience, I lasted a couple of months, until one day, the lady [employer] cheated me of my salary: I quit that job.

Afterwards, one day I was at home. Juan Alberto⁵ told me to go to the Identity Records Office to look for my papers to then get my national I.D. card. I went there, and they gave me a small slip of paper and told me to go to the Junta [Central Electoral]. When I went, they told me that “the problem of Haitians children is not resolved yet.” Juan Alberto is a friend of mine who coordinates over there [in the village], and he was the one who informed me of that.

By then I was sixteen. He told me: “Go and try to get a birth certificate for the national I.D. card so you may be registered as a minor.” I traveled so much to the Junta that, before they gave me the documents, I traveled approximately one hundred times, until they issued them. Today I have my national I.D. card, with a lot of effort.

He [the boyfriend] does not like it, but despite everything, I continue with my studies, but his jealous ways keep multiplying more and more. And his ill demeanor and abusive ways, despite the fact that he did not contribute even a spoon, not even an appliance… he only helps me with the food, I swear. Since he lives in the same backyard with me, I live terrified by this horrific marriage. My mom is afraid that one day she will wake up and find me dead.

I have three siblings living here, in the capital: two girls and a boy. In December last year one of my sisters gave birth and they were going to tie her tubes. She calls me at four in the morning, when I was in bed with him. He asked who was calling, and I told him. He didn’t even make the least effort to ask me how I was going to get there. My sister had nobody with her there at the hospital, only her husband, who was prevented from entering. But I had a monthly income from the City Council that I worked for. I got up and bathed to go and pick up the money. He sat down on the porch, like a rich man. He did not ask where I was going. I waited for a lift so I would still have enough money to help my sister once I got there. But he is so selfish that he stayed sitting, looking at me. Just like that I took my bag and I left. He asked my mom where I had found the money. My mother told him I had gone to Gonzalo for some money. But I left it at home.

I left for Ney Arias [Lora] hospital, where my sister had given birth, where they were going to tie her tubes. I stayed with her for nine days. I returned to the batey where I live, the day I arrived back was a Saturday. He began to ask me questions: that I was not with my sister, that people told him that I was not with my sister…Then, in the argument, he hit me, then he dragged me on the floor. I did not say anything because my mom has high blood pressure, and she was alone at her house…so that she would not get upset. He also had two sharpened machetes, and [he would say] he’d kill me if I cried, [I was told] to not go outside crying.

Then I pulled myself together, I broke the back door of the house, and that is when he hit me the hardest. It was the 16th of December, I had to take an exam the following day. I woke up, I left for school without saying a word to my mom about what happened the night before. I took my house keys to my mom. I told the guy: “Make sure I do not find you at my house when I come back, and I told my mom: “When he gets out, lock the door for me.” When I came back from school, he was still in the house. I got there and I locked up the house. He followed me, asking for the key. I did not give it to him. I went to sleep over at my mom’s. He continued to bug me over there, until I made up my mind in January this year.

I went to the Prosecutor’s office, I filed for an order of arrest. They detained him, where he spent fifteen days under arrest. Then his family, who is from Hato Mayor, came over to convince me that they were going to pay the [bail] and a lawyer so that I would give the order to let him out, that they were going to take him to “his place.” I fell into the trap, and I gave the order out of pity for his mother and his sister (who is very old).

He continues to threaten me that he is going to “give me two blows with the machete.” But on May 2nd, the minister’s secretary gave me an appointment, and then, she went and closed the file on the case, but she did not understand what the problem was. Eight days later, he saw me on the street standing with two friends (women), and he was passing by and he hit me in the chest. I went back to the Prosecutor’s Office to get another order of arrest, because when he hit me, he had a dagger on his waist. It was his second intention to stab me. When he hit me, I froze. When he turned his back, I hit him on the back with a rock. He chased after me with the dagger to stab me. My brother intervened to defend me together with several other people. He chased after my brother to stab him as well. My brother fell down, several people held him so he would not be able to kill my brother.

And they issued an order for me, but they told me to take it to Door 9. I delivered it there, she told me that they themselves would take him to the police station, but it seems they never took him, because I spent fifteen days traveling to the police station and he never got there. I still live in this nightmare because he continues to threaten me, despite that seven months have gone by. Today when I was on my way here, he was following behind me… but God is with me.