Have I told you about our Russian trustee? Let's call her Nina (becuase the only other Russian woman I know is called Nina).
She knows the grandmother of the little boy being abused by our neighbours. The grandmother lives in the Ukraine and phones Nina to check up on her grandchild as the parents won't let her speak to the boy himself.
I have told Nina about what's been happening as I needed to get the parents' telephone numbers from her. She is very distressed about it, and last night, when the boy's grandfather called, she told him the latest developments (i.e. nothing has been done because nobody seems to want to help). He broke down in tears and sobbed, especially when Nina told him she'd spoken to the boy and asked him if he wanted to go home to the Ukraine to his grandparents. He answered quietly, "Yes. Please!"
So the grandfather called the Ukranian embassy in Pretoria, and they are sending someone to come and meet the boy and talk to him tomorrow morning at 9am, to try and get him returned to his grandparents. Nina would like TSC and I to be there as witnesses. I don't think I'll be able to be there, but TSC will.
Let's hope something happens. Frankly, the whole thing scares me. The boy's father has been yelling at Nina and threatening her. I would like to see him behind bars.
Showing posts with label neighbours. Show all posts
Showing posts with label neighbours. Show all posts
Wednesday, 15 October 2008
Friday, 3 October 2008
Friday funny and a quick update
We've finally found a social worker who will come and see our neighbours' kid, so that's good news. I've tracked down the phone numbers for the parents (like drawing blood from a stone with our helpful trustees) and she's trying to set up an appointment today. Will keep you posted.
Here is the picture of the house that is soon to be ours. I cannot wait!
And here, are your Friday funnies:
And here, are your Friday funnies:
Tuesday, 30 September 2008
Cat post
No, I am not going to start posting about my two lovely felines every day of the week and updating you on their diet, antics and incredible shedding rate, but I am going to write a post about cats today, and probably tomorrow too ;-)
See, on Saturday, TSC and I were both feeling bleak. This was largely because of the abusive neighbours and the inept police. We decided that we should cheer ourselves up by driving a little way up the road (we live on the edge of town near where the small farms start) to find a place to take a long walk in the spring sunshine.
We were driving really slowly with the window down when we heard this desperate meowing. We thought perhaps a cat had got caught in the barbed wire fence, so we pulled over, crossed the road and starting calling. And this tiny ginger kitten came bounding out of a gutter and launched itself into my arms like a small orange (affectionate) missile.
It was so cute, purring away like a little generator. We looked around for more kittens or a mother, but couldn't find any. The little thing was skin and bones and was desperately trying to crawl into the nape of my neck to get closer (it didn't have much luck though, with my phobia of having anything near my neck. I kept trying to get it to just stay on my shoulder). We couldn't just leave it there, so we took it home.
It was dusty and had a scrape on its teensy nose, but it was so excited to be with us. We kept saying how it was full of beans. This expression prompted the name 'Bean'. Now ginger cats are almost always male (not sure why, but it's true), but Bean happened to be a little girl.
We debated keeping her and decided that we'd see how our cats reacted first. After stopping to buy her some kitten food and a bowl, we took her home. She wolfed that food down in about two seconds flat. She must have been starving. Our cats (the big pansies) were terrified of this little scrap of fur and headed as far away as possible. Not good.
We took our little beansprout to the vet, who confirmed her sex, provided some tick and flea ointment and dewormed her, and said she must be about eight weeks old. I asked the vet if our cats would adjust and she said maybe, but it would take a few months. Seeing we're moving in a few months, we didn't think ti would be fair on our cats to take on two huge new adjustments.
Fortunately, our (only) nice neighbour LOVES cats. She's been trying to convince her husband to let her get one, but he wasn't keen. Until he met little Bean, that is, so just won his heart with her affection and red-headed wiles (yes, as a ginger, I use those too. Not).
We handed her over with peaceful hearts, watching as Sandra cuddled the little bundle of fur to sleep in her arms. I'm very happy that she's found a good home, even if they did insist on renaming her Tinkerbell (?!?!?).
"It's Bean a good day," I said to TSC as we headed back to our unit. I just couldn't resist!
___________________________________________________________________
About the nasty neighbours: We have given them the details for the sister at the Teddybear Clinic, and they have promised to schedule an appointment today for later this week. I'll give the clinic a ring tomorrow and check whether or not that's been done, and we'll take it from there.
Monday, 29 September 2008
Monday update
After work on Friday, I called Childline to report my neighbours' abuse of their child. I was told there's nothing they could do, and given the number for Child Welfare. I called Child Welfare and asked to speak to a social worker, who told me off for calling on a Friday afternoon, saying there was nothing they could do. She advised me to call back this week.
I headed over to the local police station to open a case against my neighbours. I spoke to two officers who didn't have any idea what I should do, before being directed to a lady named Beauty who was very helpful.
She explained to me that the Child Protection Services unit has been closed down and that child abuse now falls under the auspices of the general police. I think this is ridiculous, as you surely need special training to deal with the situations that come up. Beauty told me that there's no record of my three calls or of a case being opened, and that they haven't logged a visit to my complex on that evening. She advised me to call emergency services back and get their feedback on my reference number from Friday, to put it all in an email and send it to Crimeline, who will then brief the police to open a case.
I called emergency services and quoted my reference number, asking them which police vehicle had made the call and what had happened. I asked the woman to read me her report. It said they had stopped by at 21.20, spoken tot the mother and sorted it out. That was it. As I was the complainant, they should have taken a statement from me, not just the lying, child-beating mother!
Yesterday, at church, I spoke to a friend who is a social worker. She called me this morning with the name and number of a state social worker who will be able to come out to the complex. She also have me the name and number of a sister at the local Teddybear Clinic who can do an assessment on the child. She advised that becuase the parents kept saying how worried they are about him, that he's a psychopath and a thief and that he needs help, I should ask them to take him to the clinic. If they resist, I can bring in the police or the state social worker. I will keep you posted on what happens next.
I headed over to the local police station to open a case against my neighbours. I spoke to two officers who didn't have any idea what I should do, before being directed to a lady named Beauty who was very helpful.
She explained to me that the Child Protection Services unit has been closed down and that child abuse now falls under the auspices of the general police. I think this is ridiculous, as you surely need special training to deal with the situations that come up. Beauty told me that there's no record of my three calls or of a case being opened, and that they haven't logged a visit to my complex on that evening. She advised me to call emergency services back and get their feedback on my reference number from Friday, to put it all in an email and send it to Crimeline, who will then brief the police to open a case.
I called emergency services and quoted my reference number, asking them which police vehicle had made the call and what had happened. I asked the woman to read me her report. It said they had stopped by at 21.20, spoken tot the mother and sorted it out. That was it. As I was the complainant, they should have taken a statement from me, not just the lying, child-beating mother!
Yesterday, at church, I spoke to a friend who is a social worker. She called me this morning with the name and number of a state social worker who will be able to come out to the complex. She also have me the name and number of a sister at the local Teddybear Clinic who can do an assessment on the child. She advised that becuase the parents kept saying how worried they are about him, that he's a psychopath and a thief and that he needs help, I should ask them to take him to the clinic. If they resist, I can bring in the police or the state social worker. I will keep you posted on what happens next.
Friday, 26 September 2008
Too far this time
Two of my favourite bloggers, Being Brazen and Elizabeth, have both given me a nice award, which makes me very chuffed and I will certainly post about it next week. Elizabeth says I make her giggle, which I'm glad of, but today I'm going to write a very serious post.
My neighbours have taken it one step too far this time. We have put up with their screaming matches, wondering the whole time whether he was beating her or the kids. We have also put up with feeding and loving their cat, which they have completely abandoned. But last night, for the first time, they gave us proof that they are more than just nasty neighbours - they are criminals.
As I was dishing up supper at about 19.15, we heard a child screaming its lungs out, so we went outside to investigate. There was blood all over the corridor, and the screaming was coming from inside their flat. I wanted to call the police, but TSC went straight to their door and starting bashing on it. Eventually, after much shouting, the father came to the door and TSC demanded to know what was going on. The guy wouldn't let him see past him into the house and started making all the usual excuses - the kid slipped and knocked his head etc.
TSC kept pushing and telling him to bring the kid out so he could see if he was ok, and the guy stalled until his wife (who is the one who hit the kid) had washed the blood off the kid's face, telling TSC that the child (who is eight years old) is a psychopath, that he shoplifts and tried to poison them and that they're trying to get social services involved to help them with this "problem". He also said that the kid says his grandmother "touches" him, but they don't believe him. Five minutes later, he says that the kid is mentally unstable because he was molested for five years.
Eventually, the wife drags the kid out. His face is blue on one side and there are fingermark bruises all down one arm. TSC asks the kid if his mother hit him. The kid won't look at him, but shakes his head - no. TSC gets down on his haunches, looks the kid in the eyes, and says, "Please tell me the truth." The kid nods his head - yes. The mother then begins yelling at TSC saying that they don't want their kid, he's a piece of rubbish, they want to get rid of him and they'll pay us to take him away, he's just costing them money. All of this in front of her child.
While this was all happening, I had called emergency services and asked them to send the police. They took down my details and promised that a car would be around. This was at 19.30. For the next hour, we forgot about dinner while this man tried to talk his way out of the situation, saying that he realises things get out of hand sometimes (his wife packs her stuff and threatens to leave him on a regular basis after his verbal (and probably physical) abuse), but that they are trying, and with all due respect, we're not parents so we can't understand etc, etc.
I called for the police again at 20.15. Then again at 21.10. When we eventually went to bed at 11.30 after waiting for four hours, they had still not arrived. Apparently they came after midnight, when the child was in bed, and just took a statement from the parents. What help is that? Like they told the truth! Fortunately, our other neighbours (the nice ones) and TSC had ensured that the kid was safe. Had none of us intervened, who knows how far it would have gone.
I finish work early today and will be going straight to the police station to file a report. I will also be writing to the newspapers. It is simply unacceptable that in a situation where a child is at risk, so little is done. I cannot handle abuse of children and animals. It makes me shake with rage because they have no choice, no power to fight back.
My neighbours have taken it one step too far this time. We have put up with their screaming matches, wondering the whole time whether he was beating her or the kids. We have also put up with feeding and loving their cat, which they have completely abandoned. But last night, for the first time, they gave us proof that they are more than just nasty neighbours - they are criminals.
As I was dishing up supper at about 19.15, we heard a child screaming its lungs out, so we went outside to investigate. There was blood all over the corridor, and the screaming was coming from inside their flat. I wanted to call the police, but TSC went straight to their door and starting bashing on it. Eventually, after much shouting, the father came to the door and TSC demanded to know what was going on. The guy wouldn't let him see past him into the house and started making all the usual excuses - the kid slipped and knocked his head etc.
TSC kept pushing and telling him to bring the kid out so he could see if he was ok, and the guy stalled until his wife (who is the one who hit the kid) had washed the blood off the kid's face, telling TSC that the child (who is eight years old) is a psychopath, that he shoplifts and tried to poison them and that they're trying to get social services involved to help them with this "problem". He also said that the kid says his grandmother "touches" him, but they don't believe him. Five minutes later, he says that the kid is mentally unstable because he was molested for five years.
Eventually, the wife drags the kid out. His face is blue on one side and there are fingermark bruises all down one arm. TSC asks the kid if his mother hit him. The kid won't look at him, but shakes his head - no. TSC gets down on his haunches, looks the kid in the eyes, and says, "Please tell me the truth." The kid nods his head - yes. The mother then begins yelling at TSC saying that they don't want their kid, he's a piece of rubbish, they want to get rid of him and they'll pay us to take him away, he's just costing them money. All of this in front of her child.
While this was all happening, I had called emergency services and asked them to send the police. They took down my details and promised that a car would be around. This was at 19.30. For the next hour, we forgot about dinner while this man tried to talk his way out of the situation, saying that he realises things get out of hand sometimes (his wife packs her stuff and threatens to leave him on a regular basis after his verbal (and probably physical) abuse), but that they are trying, and with all due respect, we're not parents so we can't understand etc, etc.
I called for the police again at 20.15. Then again at 21.10. When we eventually went to bed at 11.30 after waiting for four hours, they had still not arrived. Apparently they came after midnight, when the child was in bed, and just took a statement from the parents. What help is that? Like they told the truth! Fortunately, our other neighbours (the nice ones) and TSC had ensured that the kid was safe. Had none of us intervened, who knows how far it would have gone.
I finish work early today and will be going straight to the police station to file a report. I will also be writing to the newspapers. It is simply unacceptable that in a situation where a child is at risk, so little is done. I cannot handle abuse of children and animals. It makes me shake with rage because they have no choice, no power to fight back.
Wednesday, 27 August 2008
The lesser of two evils
I...will...call...the...estate...agents...today...
I don't want to, but if I will myself hard enough, I'm sure I can convince myself to call. Why would I do this to myself? Am I complete masochist? Sometimes. For instance, I like to play with the candles on restaurant tables and dip my finger in the hot wax... But I digress... No, the reson for this seemingly daft decision to contact the soul suckers is that I have decided that the estate agents are indeed the lesser of two evils.
*Gasp!* What could possible be worse than a mess of estate agents?!
My current neighbours.
NEED TO MOVE! If it's not the Celine Dion wannabee upstairs screaming, "A new daaaaay has beguuuun!" at the top of her lungs at 1am, it's the bunch of blokes on the top floor that chuck their cigarrette butts and the occasional broken glass off their balcony onto the grass in front of my veranda, or the troupe of drunken fools that howl at the moon from the other side of the complex.
Yes, I am grumpy today. Why? Let's think... "It's all coming back, all coming back to me now..." Celine was at it again this morning. No sleep equals very grumpy journo. Hmmm... This is a good time to call the estate agents, while I'm feeling murderous. Or maybe I'll just go look on the Private Property website instead. Yes... that sounds like a plan, batman.
I don't want to, but if I will myself hard enough, I'm sure I can convince myself to call. Why would I do this to myself? Am I complete masochist? Sometimes. For instance, I like to play with the candles on restaurant tables and dip my finger in the hot wax... But I digress... No, the reson for this seemingly daft decision to contact the soul suckers is that I have decided that the estate agents are indeed the lesser of two evils.
*Gasp!* What could possible be worse than a mess of estate agents?!
My current neighbours.
NEED TO MOVE! If it's not the Celine Dion wannabee upstairs screaming, "A new daaaaay has beguuuun!" at the top of her lungs at 1am, it's the bunch of blokes on the top floor that chuck their cigarrette butts and the occasional broken glass off their balcony onto the grass in front of my veranda, or the troupe of drunken fools that howl at the moon from the other side of the complex.
Yes, I am grumpy today. Why? Let's think... "It's all coming back, all coming back to me now..." Celine was at it again this morning. No sleep equals very grumpy journo. Hmmm... This is a good time to call the estate agents, while I'm feeling murderous. Or maybe I'll just go look on the Private Property website instead. Yes... that sounds like a plan, batman.
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