Peering Through the Past the Museum of Hurt

By Author Beverley-Rose Smith

Beverley-Rose grew up in Jamaica with her one parent single mother and five siblings in 1970.  When she was eight years old she was sexually abused by her next door neighbour's playmate grandpa. This book is dedicated to all men and women over the world, who had been sexually abused. Those who are still being sexually abused irrespective of who the perpetrator was and still is. if you are reading this book, then you are a survivor. You may have overcome or still in the obstacles which does NOT define US regardless of the abuse.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Beverley-Rose Publications Ltd
• Release date: Feb 20, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224340996

Author Beverley-Rose Smith

The author is a single mother of five children, who was married during her teenage years but migrated to the United Kingdom for a fresh start and a new chapter in her life. She did not realise her childhood trauma would have followed her, but through the difficult times she's faced, had to address the issues and when inspired to write her book as a therauptic remedy embarked on yet a new journey of self discovery.

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Published in Jamaica, 2021.

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, public performances or otherwise, without written permission of Beverley - Rose Smith, except for brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. The workbook is for personal use only; commercial use is prohibited unless written permission and a license is obtained from the author Beverley - Rose Smith.

Design courtesy of Jon Judace.

The right of Beverley - Rose Smith to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Text Copyright © 2021 by Beverley - Rose Publications Limited.

National Library Jamaica Cataloguing in Publication Data: A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library.

ISBN: 978–976–96711–0-2

TABLE OF CONTENTS

DEDICATION

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

PREFACE

CHAPTERS:

CHAPTER 1: The periodic abuse of a child and an adolescent

CHAPTER 2:  Hello world I am coming

CHAPTER 3:  Left everything I know to live thousands of miles across the sea. ENGLAND

CHAPTER 4:  Domestic violence safe house

CHAPTER 5:  Sweet Child of Mine; the Arrest and the Authority

CHAPTER 6:  Date raped by a co – worker

CHAPTER 7:  Holiday Romance and the DNA

CHAPTER 8:  Trying a new start!

CHAPTER 9:  Lie down and got up pregnant.

CHAPTER 10:  So, you fight a pregnant woman! Made you feel big, did it?

CHAPTER 11:  Can You Really Trust Anyone? Big Question!

CHAPTER 12:  Please take note of what is happening.  Politics thinks about you even if you don’t think about Politics

CHAPTER 13:  HuMANity 

EPILOGUE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

SERVICES

REFERENCE LIST

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to all the women and men all over the world, who had been sexually abused, who are still being sexually abused irrespective of who the perpetrator was and still is.  If you are reading this book, then you are a survivor, you may have overcome or is still in the obstacles which does not define us regardless of the abuse.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This book is in acknowledgement to my ANCESTORS and CHILDREN who are MY future, Ebony, Jordan, Morgan, Skye – Wayne and River – Rayne. Because of you I am resilient, bold and strong.

I must first above all else want to thank the Lord God Almighty who kept me safe in the midst of my troubles, who protected me.  Then secondly, I would like to thank my children especially Jordan for his outstanding support towards me and I would like to thank the people who knew I had it in me to do and has encouraged me to take that big step and write this book.

I must also say thank you to Kirsty and Tina for sharing their stories with me and allowing me to write about it.

I must also say thank you to Angelina for sharing her story with me and allowing me to use it to show people a different perspective.

PREFACE

This book is about a young girl’s stolen childhood, who has experienced a surmountable amount of adversity in her young life.  Encountering one sexual abuse after the other, without knowing why it happened, in trying to understand it all.

I did not like the experience that I was faced with but somehow, I liked what it was that grandpa was doing with his finger.  I believed that I had become to just accept it, and it had started to have its emotional detachment from the very first time that it happened, little did I know or would have known at that age.

CHAPTER 1

The periodic abuse of a child and an adolescent

Before I could learn, know or understand from the normal experiences of a child, it was thrust upon me the feeling of sexuality and the needs to be satisfied that came.  The laughter echoes as Sharon, Katheen, Everol, Mungy, Rohan myself and sometimes Junior play catch me if you can, and sometimes were busy playing hide and seek.  I also had a small brother who was four years younger, who was called Bunny.

We were all similar in age apart from Dion and Bunny, we all went to the same Seaforth Primary School, lived, played and fight together.  At that age my family, school and friends made me happy, but the only thing that brought ecstatic happiness was when I was running, with my heart pounding heavily in my ears, my muscles aching and chest burning.

I grew up in Jamaica with my family it was during the 70’s.  I lived in a two-bedroom house, my mother had one room that is shared by my brother, but my other siblings and I shared the other.  The floor was as if painted red, it was concrete then when my mother or sister applied the thick liquid to it, it glowed, sparkled and shone, when the sun came through the windows from a distant it would look as it would when water settles in the sea.

I remembered that I was not prevented from going to and fro, but our parents did not mingle with each other.

It was said that the land was all captured, that once it belonged to slave or plantation owners, in which my mother’s mother brought her a plot, but where we live was wonderful to play during the day, had no through road or street lights, we dare not leave during the night without bringing a lamp, that awful and somewhat difficult.

I remembered I had to share a bed with my siblings, one sister and four brothers at the time. 

In our room there was a door in the middle of both rooms, which meant that sometimes as children played, running back and forth through, we both had a lamp, with a glass bottle, that seemed to melt into a tower where sit perched a glass shade that was used to cover, this kept the light going, and prevented the wind blowing out the lamp. 

There was a dinner table on which the lamp sits, but where we had our dinner as children. 

I can remember the smell of sweet savoury smells coming from down the Lane, where we had a sweet factory operating by Mr Lenard. Some of my friends could work there because they were older.

My mother’s property was similar to most people who lived in what was called the Lane, we did not have electricity, water or gas and to use the toilet we would have to go outside regardless of what time of the night it was.

In what seemed like a very large African Compound, with a very big gigantic mango tree at the front of the compound, immediately to the left of that was a jackfruit tree, whilst immediately in front of that was the overhanging red apple tree, as well as a black mango tree and knees berry tree.

Television would have been a rarity as the main electricity on the streets did not extend to the Lane, but there were some people who stole the electricity illegally, and if I wanted to watch television I would have to go to my next-door neighbour.

It happened that both my mother’s and father’s family lived in the Lane, from my great grand - mother, grand -mother from my father his sister and his cousins on the other side my mother who had her uncle and cousin at the top of the Lane and her grand uncle and cousins beside her.

When I looked out the window on my left, I could see both the outside kitchen, with the outside toilet a little distance from it, then it is the fence boundary. To my left from the back window, I could see Sharon and Catheen’s house on the other side of the Lane, just above the fence bushes.  From my veranda I could barely see the Banton’s yard, not their house.

You see all the children that lived close together would go to each other’s yard to play, the William’s, Banton’s and my home, across or beside each other and so we knew and trust grandpa (Mr Banton).  

I remember the thought of needing to go to the toilet during the night as a child, I was terrified.  A ghost of some sort was sure to get me.  Or the frogs that you could always hear croaking might be waiting should you happen to talk on one of them.

There was no role model in my environment that I was aware of, I had only started running, where my teachers were attentive and caring.  I had only heard that my father was travelling on what they call farm work, when a person is given employment overseas.  But that he also now had a new family, which I had never seen or knew about at that point.

I knew then mother and father where no longer together, father he did not really come around much, so I hardly saw my father.  I remembered that he was the one to comb my hair for primary school when I was three years younger at the age of five years old, that’s when he did take me to spend time with.

I had had to get my big toe bandaged because I hit it on a stone during the night coming from the Street, we did not wear shoes except the rare occasions.

Grandpa was a very large big and tall blind man; it was said that he was in World War two where he lost his sight.  He lived in the yard where Rohan, Everol, Mungy, Junior and Dion lived in the Banton’s residence.  He was not our grand-father, but we all grew up hearing everyone calling him grandpa.  His name was really Mr Banton

At one point or another, we had been asked to fetch various things for grandpa, he would sit on the veranda every morning, even when he wanted to use the toilet, he would call and where we as small children noticed his own children sometimes ignored him.  I liked him very much, I supposed that even at that age I felt sorry, plus he would always reward us with a gift, to our not surprised.

But the most awful thing that could happen happened, to me when I was an eight years old young child.  I was sexually abused by grandpa, it was late 1978 as I grew from the age of seven years old, my own father had just left home.

I would get ready for school with the rest of the children in the Lane, our mothers would have combed our hair the night before, with our neatly pressed white blouse and dark blue dress, white socks and black shoes.  Even though normally, I did not wear shoes any other times.

The Banton’s residence was occupied by his children, about four or five there were.  It was I remembered a bigger compound than where I lived.  They had children, who became my playmates and friends.

I remembered that it all started with him saying to me one day, Come and sit on my knees.  I would pull on his big white beard, telling him what was happening.  Although he could not see, he wanted to hear about everything that was taking place.  I was his eyes and we would have fun laughing because he was happy.

Rohan was hiding under the house, with Dion and Katheen down into the pear tree walk, Sharon could not be seen anywhere.

And as I sat there one day, I felt him put his hand underneath me and into my pants, I was frozen with shock and fear, my heart pounding in my chest and I thought to myself I can hear it, as he then put his finger inside of me, whilst saying and telling me.

It is ok, and it is our secret, you cannot tell anyone.

I did not know who to tell because at that age I was sure that my mother would have said that it was my fault.

Even though it hurt very badly, I believe that I was afraid and confused because when he called for me then, I knew what he was going to do.

I continued to play with my friends, but I was carrying around this secret of what was taking place with grandpa and me.  The longer that it carried on I felt more trapped, it so happened to have impacted very badly on me has a young child, I would sneak into his house, he would tell me to come in through the back door, something was wrong with that.  

I remembered I was very scared because I could feel the exhilarated beat of my heart in my little chest.  I cannot understand the reason that I would go back?  He could not see me, even if I was under his nose!

I remembered that I was very unhappy during these times, thinking someone would see me and I would get into trouble and be beaten by my mother; he also said that I would get into trouble and I believed him when he said that it was my fault for what he did! 

As young children all three of our yard’s looked very big, Mr Banton’s (grandpa) was the biggest and scariest of the three with the house sitting in the middle to be accessed from many different directions, from the front, further down the Lane, two more entrances made by us the children and families that lived in the Lane.

The entrance had a long path from the front gate to the very front of the veranda, on the right on your way in, were big pear trees, banana trees, it gave the image of mystery at night, for a child, I was scared to look or go near at night.

Catheens’ were too much of an open space, I could not run around that house, from the front you could see everything all at once not much places to hide from each other.  I was growing up still carrying our secret with new interest, I started to understand what was taking place.  I was no longer naïve to his advances.

I still did not know what to do; I was still so scared all the time, I was also now ashamed I could not tell my friends or his own grand children and in shock for as long as I could remember and then I allowed him to do it again and again until I think I got to the age of around ten years old, when I start to like what he was doing whether I wanted to or not.  

I remembered at various different times; I was feeling strange sensations in my body that I did not