'I don't want to be called a rape victim. I'm Suzette Jordan'

Two years ago, this woman decided to reveal her face and name to the media, refusing to be just another statistic labelled the 'Park Street rape victim'

By Amrita Mukherjee

ADDITIONAL REPORTING BY ANAND RAJ OK

Suzette Jordan cuddles her cat Hunter, nuzzling its head. Seated on a bed in her modest two-bedroom apartment in a quiet neighbourhood in Behala, in southwest Kolkata, India, she flicks the remote to turn on the TV as the telephone rings. The 39-year-old gets up to answer it and a few minutes later returns to the bed. She looks sombre as she stares at the floor for several seconds without saying a word.Then, raising her head, she says, "It was from a television channel." She tells her mother Gilda Jordan, 61, that the channel wants to know if she'd be willing to participate in a discussion on the horrific news that is being hotly debated in Indian media - about two teenage girls who were allegedly raped and found hanging from a tree in a village in the north Indian state of Uttar Pradesh."Since I am a rape survivor, they usually call me to these discussions," explains Suzette, softly. Although she can now talk about the horrifying incident and join in on debates about the issue, the trauma she underwent on a winter night more than two years ago has still not left her.On February 5, 2012, the single mother of two teenage girls had stepped out of a popular nightclub on upscale Park Street in Kolkata looking for a cab to take her home, when a man she had befriended in the club and his friend offered her a lift in a car to the nearest taxi stand."It was way past midnight and the friends I had come to the club with had left," says Suzette. Since there were no taxis in sight and because it was late, she agreed to hitch a ride.As the car, driven by the man's friend, made its way down Park Street, it stopped to pick up three other men - setting off alarm bells in Suzette's head. "I realised something was not right and asked that he stop the car so I could get out," she says. When he refused, Suzette began to panic. "I tried to open the door and jump out but the doors were all auto-locked." Hoping somebody would hear her and come to her aid, she started screaming but with the windows up, her voice was muffled. One of the men pointed a gun at her and started beating her, she says. Then her ordeal became even more horrific. Suzette says she was held down by the men, who took turns raping her before throwing her out of the running car at around 3.30am."I was in a semi-conscious state when I was thrown out of the car, and when I came to, the first thought I had was to escape so I blindly started running," she says. She does not remember how long she kept running. "But the moment I saw a cab, I flagged it down and gave the driver my address."Stumbling into her house in the early hours, the first thing she did was rush to the washroom. "Standing before the mirror, I looked at my reflection and was horrified," she says. "My clothes were in tatters, my hair had come out in clumps in places... there were bruises and scratch marks all over my body and I was bleeding profusely."Seeing her battered and bruised body, her mother nearly fainted. For two days Suzette lay in bed, too distraught and confused whether to go to a hospital or the police station."I couldn't even get out of bed because I was so weak as I had lost a lot of blood. I had to be carried to the washroom by my father," she says. "I had never felt so weak and trampled upon ever in my life."But even during those extremely painful days, one thought kept running through her mind - she would do everything she could to bring the men who attacked her before the law and ensure that they were punished."I couldn't imagine letting them go after what they had done to me," she says.Three days after the incident, although barely able to walk and still reeling from the terrible assault, Suzette decided to file a complaint at the local police station. "My father did warn me the going wouldn't be easy and I may have to face a lot of challenges," she says. "But seeing that I was determined, he offered all his support."The police questioned me for over five hours before finally registering the case."Since there were no doctors available, the medical examination took place a week after the incident. "The test itself was humiliating. I was prodded and violated and commented upon like I was some inanimate object," she says. Suzette was determined to see that she received justice. Once the case had been filed, action followed. After reviewing the CCTV footage in the club, police arrested three of the five men, although the main accused and another are still absconding. "I identified the three at the police station after they were arrested," says Suzette. "Seeing them, I was in so much shock that I collapsed." The shock, pain and humiliation are still fresh in her mind. "Ever so often I keep thinking about the day that changed my life and I shudder and recoil with fear." On that fateful night, Suzette had first gone to the Grail Club, frequented by people of her Anglo-Indian community. "We are regulars at the club. My father is a member and I have been going there since I was a child," she says. Although her older daughter was supposed to accompany her to the club, at the last minute she changed her plans and Suzette decided to go alone."If she had been with me I would have not gone to the night club from there," she recalls.Mum Gilda perhaps had a premonition, because she told her daughter several times to avoid going out if she could. "But at that time I was going through a very bad phase. The small call-centre business that I had started with my younger sister had collapsed and my financial situation was not very good. I just wanted to go out and forget about my worries for some time," says Suzette.Now more than two years since that horrific day, Suzette's case is still in court and her life in turmoil. Every time she goes to court for the hearing of the case, she relives the brutal ordeal she faced at the hands of those five men. The fiercely independent woman admits she has been grappling with emotions she never knew existed. "At home we laugh, we share jokes, but for me it's like a switch in my mind that goes on and off every time I think about the incident. "I keep oscillating between a good mood and a depressive one. In my nightmares I see myself as Jyoti [the Delhi bus rape victim who died due to her injuries] and then I wake up in a cold sweat and realise I am still alive." Immediately after the incident hit national headlines, there were many who criticised her for taking a lift from a man she had met only once at the club. There were hushed whispers that 'the entire incident was a case of a deal gone wrong'. The Chief Minister of West Bengal Mamata Banerjee also made a public statement hinting that the complaint could be "a cooked-up story" to ward off the negative publicity her government was getting because of the incident. That sent Suzette's and her family's life into a tailspin. Their landlord, who was a good friend, pointedly asked them to vacate their house. "We also began to receive threatening calls if we didn't withdraw the case," claims Suzette, referring to the political dimensions the case had acquired. "However, I got immense support from the media and some charities such as Swayam. They were the ones who inspired me to carry on my fight against the men who abused me."Despite the support, the threats became increasingly menacing until finally Suzette and her family were provided with police protection that lasted for three months. Gradually the threats diminished but Suzette could not afford to relax.As months passed, although the marks on her body began to heal, mentally she was becoming a wreck. "I hated being called 'the Park Street rape victim'," she says. "Although, according to Indian law, a rape victim can never be named or shown and my face was always blurred when shown on TV, my curly hair was a dead giveaway to those who lived in my neighbourhood. Then one channel gave away my address and my father's name. So I had strangers on the road coming up to me and asking 'Are you the Park Street rape victim?' "This was followed by taunts and stares from the boys of my locality. They said things like 'there goes the rape victim'." Humiliated and hurt, she did not know where to turn for help. The fact that she is a single parent too "has not gone in my favour," she says. "Although I feel I have done a good job single-handedly bringing up my children, our society is still very sceptical of single mothers and their abilities of raising children properly without the help of a male."For several months after the incident, Suzette would step out of her house only after covering her face with a scarf. "I hated people coming up and asking if I was the rape victim, so used to cover my face to mask my identity," she says. Suzette's moment of truth, however, came when she was participating in a rally protesting violence against women in Kolkata a few months later. "I had forgotten my dupatta [scarf], with which I always used to cover my face when in public. But that day, while participating in the rally, I took a decision - I'd never cover my face again. That was when I reclaimed my identity - I became Suzette Jordan again. "I was expected to hang my head in shame, withdraw into a corner of my home and live the rest of my life as the Park Street rape victim. I kept thinking 'why should I be ashamed?'. Instead, the men who did this to me should be ashamed. I just could not accept to live a life like this." Revealing her face to the public was only the first step. Suzette started making more changes so she could take up the reins of her life again. "I left my old apartment and rented this new one. It took me one whole year to get this apartment because not many people were willing to rent me a house." As soon as Suzette decided to reveal her true identity - and not be known as the Park Street rape victim - the national and international media came knocking at her door. Documentary filmmakers from France, Germany and Australia wanted to interview her. Among the reports made about her, the most notable is The Politics Of Rape by Australian Amos Roberts, which delved into the issue of rape in West Bengal and how Suzette has been fighting for justice. On the shelves of her room are several mementos and citations presented to her for leading the fight for women's empowerment. There is a picture of her with Hollywood star Robert De Niro at the Think festival in Goa, where both were speakers. "De Niro told me 'I really appreciate your courage'," says Suzette. There is another picture of her with superstar Aamir Khan on the sets of his show Satyamev Jayate where she was a guest. "He is a celebrity without any airs and made me feel completely at home," says Suzette. "He said he admired my courage and sent a letter to me." The framed letter now holds pride of place on another wall. Next to it is a beautiful painting given to her by a student of a school in Gujarat, where she was invited to talk about atrocities on women in India. In the past, Suzette has spoken about child sexual abuse at La Martiniere School, Kolkata, and she was recently invited to inaugurate a charity in Bengaluru. She is also scheduled to speak at a human rights convention in Mumbai, alongside ex-police officer and activist Kiran Bedi. For Suzette, the highs have been interspersed with extreme lows. "Once I revealed my identity, people stopped messing with me and passing lewd comments. There was a new-found respect in their eyes and appreciation poured in for what I was doing. "I felt there were people around me who believed in my cause and that gave me strength."But despite all this support, Suzette could not land a job. "I have lost count of the number of places where I have sent my CV and the number of interviews I have had, but that job still eludes me. I have experience working as a receptionist, telephone operator and call-centre executive, but I guess no one wants to employ a rape survivor."Suzette has also twice been invited by a panel at the Delhi High Court to help them understand how courts could treat rape victims with more sensitivity. "I told them that an in-camera trial would be helpful as it would not expose the victim or the accused in a crowded courtroom. "I also suggested that they allow someone from the victim's family to stay in the room with her during the trial, just to provide mental and emotional support for the victim. "Also, it is very intimidating to meet the family of the accused outside the courtroom day after day. And I pointed out that the system of medical examination of the rape victim was extremely humiliating." Her words did carry some weight and Suzette is happy that the medical tests for the rape victims are no longer as traumatising as they used to be - the courts ordered that they be made more scientific. However, while that has been a small triumph, Suzette says she is experiencing a constant struggle to make ends meet. Her sister is the only member in the family earning a wage, with a call-centre job; Suzette earns a bit through online content writing. "At times we even survived on one meal a day. My friends and relatives often sense the situation and drop in with groceries. I was offered huge amounts for an out-of-court settlement because all the accused belong to well-to-do-families. But I could not imagine living off that dirty money." She says there are times she feels very lonely. "Despite all the support I have got, it has tended to be solely my fight at the end of the day." The faraway look in her eyes instantly turns into alertness when she spots her elder daughter walking out of the door. "Where are you going?" she asks sharply. "I'm stepping out to meet a friend," the girl replies.Suzette relaxes. "I am paranoid about them. I don't allow them to go anywhere. I prefer their friends to come home. Because of me they also don't have a normal life anymore. Only the other day at 3am we saw a man peeping through our window. We rushed out after him and he ran away. I really don't know with what intention he had come. If my daughters come home five minutes late I break into a sweat."Two of the accused in Suzette's case are still absconding and according to news reports the International Criminal Police Organisation (Interpol) has been alerted about them. Also, in the rape cases that have been tried in the fast-track courts recently - the Nirbhaya case, the Shakti Mills case and the Guwahati molestation case - the verdict has been out and the guilty have been punished, but the Park Street rape case still awaits a verdict. But Suzette will not give up; "If I have come this far, I am not willing to give up hope. There has to be justice," she says firmly. "But once the case gets over, hopefully I will be able to find some peace. I won't have to remember every gory detail of what happened to me that night and talk about it in court day after day. I won't have to see the people who did this to me every other day." To deal with her trauma, Suzette has been practising reiki. "A charity offered to give me psychological counselling, but when do I have the time? I am constantly running to court trying to get justice." But she feels happy when women tell her she inspires them. "There was a lady who is an acid attack victim. She came to me saying I gave her the courage to fight. I even helped her get a job. The irony is I have helped others to get jobs but haven't been able to get one for myself," she says, sadly. "I want to start a healing centre where women who have faced violence can come to recuperate through talk and healing techniques. I just hope I have the money to do it someday. "But at least one thing has changed for me," she says. "I have a name again. People don't call me the 'Park Street rape victim' anymore." the big storythe big storythe big story'My clothes were in all tatters, my hair had come out in clumps, and I was bruised and scratched''I hated people coming up to me and asking if I was the rape victim, so I used to cover my face' 'I was expected to hang my head in shame, to hide in my home, but why should I be ashamed? 'If I have come this far, I am not willing to give up hope. There has got to be some justice for me'