Brutally and ruthlessly they pushed my body against the rough surface of the wooden pole. They held me in place, pressing my breasts and belly against...the pole while they untied my hands and pulled them forward. The man with he whip took hold of my hands and tied a rope around them binding them together. When he was satisfied the guards let me go. I could not move far since my arms now almost embraced the pole and I was tied to it, facing it.The rope around my bound hands ran through the iron. I found that foolish and dangerous. Seriously. They were one false accusation away from a nightmare. And they didn’t even seem to care. I decided to stay alone. What was I to do? Black women didn’t want me, and White women seemed strange, dangerous and unapproachable to me. I kept to myself. I focused on improving my life. As a refugee claimant in Canada, I had to face a judge who would make a decision in my case. The judge I faced, an old White guy, didn’t seem to care about all the twists my. More

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