Rennes, 11th March
I remember the day my mum introduced us to my stepdad, I was 15 or 16. They had just got married in the Congo, where we lived until I was 8. My sister Glodie and I didn’t like him from the start. He was very intimidating and he scared us.
As soon as he moved in, it became a living hell. The rules changed, we weren’t allowed to go out, weren’t allowed to live. It was very chaotic.
In 2014 and 2015, my mum gave birth to my two little sisters: Mithé and Monica. But the situation continued to deteriorate. My stepdad drank a lot, and when he was drunk, he was very nasty.
Sometimes I found my mum with black eyes and bruises all over her body. She would say that she’d fallen, or banged into a door. Which wasn’t true. The punches were for either refusing to give him money or because the housework wasn’t done properly. I remember once, after an argument, he destroyed the whole house: the sofa, the TV, everything. And on the walls, he wrote in lipstick: “Marie je vais te tuer” (“Marie, I’m going to kill you”).
I think she stayed with him because she idealised the family life. But deep down, I don’t think she even loved him. She was coercively controlled, evidently.
From the moment he arrived, I admit that I myself started being horrible towards my mum.
At the time, I was frustrated that she could love such a toxic person. I would answer her back, and run away for several days without giving her any news.
One day, I decided to confront him. We argued, I bit him, then I decided to leave home for good. It was selfish, but I couldn’t live with it anymore, I had to leave.
In 2019, I was at home when I get a call from my mum’s best friend. She told me that my mum was in hospital and that I needed to pick up my sisters from next door.
When I arrived at the flat, I saw blood everywhere. My immediate thought was: mum’s dead. But the neighbor told me that “he’d just beaten her up with the mixer.” My mum was disfigured. When we saw her, her face is so swollen it frightened my little sisters.
A few months later, there was a court case. My stepdad was sentenced to 18 months in prison, eight months of which were suspended, and he was forbidden to have any contact with my mother for two years. But as soon as he came out of prison, they started seeing each other again.
On the 12th April, 2022, I woke up, and like every day, sent a message to my mum. But there was no reply. I called her. Still no answer. It was strange, I felt like something had happened.
At midday, a friend of my mum’s called me to tell me that there were lots of police at her apartment. When I got there, I saw a black van with the words “DECEASED” on it. I refused to believe it, hoping it was him rather than her. But when I asked the policeman, they confirmed that my mum was dead.
I was in shock. At first I wanted to go to her. I thought that I would feel better being by her side. Then I thought about my two little sisters, Monica and Mithé. They were in the flat when he killed her. They had seen everything, heard everything. They were 7 and 8 years old.
A few days after the femicide, they were sent to a children’s home in St Malo. I put my grief to one side, I didn’t cry. I didn’t have the time, in fact. My only thought was getting them back. I would have moved heaven and earth if I had to.
On the 17th June, 2022, the day of my 25th birthday, I received the letter informing me that I had been awarded custody of my sisters. It was the happiest day of my life.
I’m now looking forward to my stepdad’s trial. But the time it takes for justice to be served is very long, too long. According to the latest information, it won’t take place before 2026. In the meantime, I’d like to give my little sisters the chance to travel and discover the world.
I’d like to show them that life isn’t all doom and gloom and that there are plenty of beautiful things to see. I want to take them to Portugal, Tunisia and above all Brazil, because Rio is Mithé’s dream.
