Eric Wamanji
The church bell chimes at 2:15 as we stroll into Martinkerkhof, 11. There is nothing unique about this old 18th century brick edifice in Groningen, Netherlands. Yet, it is home to tens of women and children who are fleeing domestic violence.
Interestingly, while here, there are no traces of violence. Chubby and cheery children jump and roll about the court like little bunnies; humming young mothers are in the kitchen busy making dinner.
It is Rieckie Kok, the charming director who opens the door for us. She is oozing with passion of her desire to end
domestic violence. “This will render us obsolete,” she says cheekily,as she serves tea. My colleague, Carmen from Dominican Republic, is too tired to have a sip.
“This is the Women Shelter,” Kok announces. The organisation offers a home and psychosocial therapy to vicitms of violence mainly women and their children.
Holland or Kenya?
Pensively, I listen to Kok as she uncorks the unheard side of Netherlands – violence in the home. Alcoholism, torrential abuses, kicks, punches, slaps or forced sex are common place, she rants on as if reciting a mantra.
Indeed, in my naivety, I always thought that some inhuman practices like domestic violence had vanished from the vocabulary of places like Groningen. I was wrong. It happens. No one seems to have the figures but by the stories we hear, the trend is unimpressive.
Yet, these list reads like a replica of what we read in the Kenya’s press. The only difference is that in Kenya, such organisations like Women Shelter are hard to come by. And even if they came, well, they would burst their seams attempting to accommodate the victims.
Lest we forget, during violence, it is children who suffer most. Such children need saftey. They also need to go on with their lives, Kok says.
One problem two approaches
Kok’s approach to domestic violence is two-fold. One provide a temporary shelter to extreme cases of domestic violence. This programme is simply called Shelter. The second is called Floating. It means providing therapeutic services right at the victims home. The latter is her favourite because it is pragmatic and allows for renewed cohesion right at the family.
In Holland, the police and the mayor have the powers to demand that a perpetrator of violence be removed from his home for 10-20 days. The law came into being in 2009. But victims are left in fear, fatigue and despondency.
Such victims are accommodated here for a week or a year, depending on the nature of the problem. Children have their objects of play, schooling and psychotherapy.
Here, there are also salsa classes, tummy dance, swimming, and general relaxation for women. They can also access TV entertainment and glossy magazines and the internet.
At the time of our visit, 24 children and their mothers in residence have been plucked from their homes to cushion them against abusive fathers. In 2009 the organization sheltered over 650 families in the Groningen province alone. Kok’s organization has two shelters in the region. There are some 150 such homes in Holland operated by different organizations.
But the project is a money guzzler, Kok admits. Though not willing to discuss the balance sheet, sustaining such a venture is no mean financial fete. And this worries Kok and company – the sustainability of the project is at risk.
That is why this looks like a never-ending strand of violence. While provision of shelter or social services is noble, to me it is just that – cosmetic. If someone scratched the surface deeper to nip the source of the abuse, such intervention would perhaps have a long lasting effect.
In the meantime, our cab guys is here here, the church clock chimes again and our visit comes to an end.
ewamanji@yahoo.co.uk