Woman's Hour - Finding My Voice

Episode Date: March 5, 2023

Five women. Five inspirational stories. Earlier this year, Woman’s Hour spoke to women from all different backgrounds and professions about the moment they found their voice. When was the moment they realised they had to speak up? And how did it change them? For International Women’s Day, Anita Rani brings you all of the interviews from the ‘Finding My Voice’ series, in a one-off special episode of the Woman’s Hour podcast. Elika Ashoori was an actor and baker who rarely kept up with politics. That is, until 2017 when her father, Anoosheh, was detained by the Iranian authorities while visiting his mother. Over the next five years, she and her family fought for his release and she was forced to go through what she calls a ‘crash course’ in human rights campaigning. Her father was flown back the UK on the same plane as Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe in March 2022. Since then, Elika has dedicated herself to campaigning for the rights of women and girls in Iran, including cutting off her hair on ITV’s Lorraine. Milly Johnson had always known she wanted to write novels but says, ‘I didn’t think that ordinary girls like me got those sorts of jobs.’ She was a 40-year-old single mum when she got her first publishing deal and now, 21 novels later, she’s a Sunday Times best-selling author and her books have sold over 3 million copies. She describes how she found her voice the moment she started putting the everyday experiences of Yorkshire women into her writing. Moud Goba fled her home country of Zimbabwe at the age of 20 due to harassment she faced over her sexuality. She is now the Chair of the Board of Trustees for UK Black Pride and has spent over a decade helping other LGBTQ+ refugees and asylum seekers to integrate into their new communities. She explains how she found her voice as an activist once she was finally able to express her sexuality freely. Shekeila Scarlett was excluded from school when she was 12 years old. Although she was reinstated at the school just 2 months later, the experience made her realised how distant young pupils were from the governors who made decisions about their school. At 26, she’s now the Chair of Governors at Stoke Newington School in Hackney, making her one of the youngest chairs of a school governing board in the UK. In 2020, Liz Roberts chose to report the sexual assault she suffered at the hands of her brother 50 years previously, when she was just eight years old. During the legal proceedings, she chose to waive her right to anonymity – a right which is automatically granted to victims of sexual offences in the UK. She explains the choice to use her name and why, since her brother’s sentencing, she’s continued to speak publicly about her story. Presenter: Anita Rani Producer: Hatty Nash

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BBC Sounds. Music, radio, podcasts. Hello and welcome to a special edition of the Woman's Hour podcast. Earlier this year, we had a series of interviews on the topic of finding my voice. We spoke to women from all different backgrounds and professions about the moment they realised they had something to say. What pushed them to speak up and how did it change them? Well, we've put all the interviews together for a special Sunday episode of the podcast. You thought Sunday was the only day you were left alone. Not anymore. Coming up, Shakila Scarlett, the 26-year-old chair of a school governing board. She talks to us about

why being excluded from school at the age of 12 pushed her to elevate young voices in schools. And Finding Your Voice at 40, the best-selling author Millie Johnson shares how she found her voice as a writer by embracing her Yorkshire roots quite right. But first, Elika Ashoori was an actor and baker who rarely kept up with politics, whether that be the politics of her birth country, Iran,

or the UK, where she's lived since she was 16. But that all changed in 2017, when her father, Anousheh, was detained by the Iranian authorities whilst he was in the country visiting his mother. What followed for Elika was, as she described it, a crash course in human rights campaigning in the most unimaginable circumstances as she fought for her father's release. He flew home on the same plane that brought Nazanin Zaghari Ratcliffe back to her family in March 2022.

But even after his release, Elika has continued to campaign for the rights of women and political prisoners in Iran. She spoke to Nula about finding her voice as an activist. Nuala started by asking about her life before her father's arrest. I did study and train to be an actress and I was kind of in the height of finding my feet in the acting industry when my dad's incident happened. And because I also ran my own business as a patisserie chef I had to put something on hold and of course my acting job didn't pay the bills so I had to

keep going with my own business and start campaigning kind of as a second job, really. And that's how I put a part of my life on hold and picked up a completely new path for myself, which has kind of lead us to where I am today. So talk me through that, because I can't imagine from being pretty much apolitical if I've understood correctly to then being in the centre of this firestorm. Perhaps tell our listeners a little bit about what happened to your father and how, what were the first steps you did? Who did you get in touch with when you started trying to campaign for his release? When it first happened, I mean, we were so shocked when we found out what happened for about two months when we had no contact with him at the beginning because he was detained literally from the streets.

He was taken into a van with a bag over his where they'd taken my dad and thought he was someone else because we were so non-political as a family you know going back and forth to Iran we had really tried to make a point of not being political so that we have freedom of movement and when my dad was charged with spying for Mossad, I remember in those first couple of months, I actually didn't know what Mossad was. That's how naive I was about politics and where all of this was headed. And it was only in hindsight that we found out that this was just a political game between two governments and taking hostages was a kind of diplomatic gain that Iran plays for financial gain and for political gain. And that's how we were thrown into it. And what we did at first was nothing because we were hoping that by doing nothing, and because the Iranian

authorities were saying that if my dad cooperated, they would release him, we cooperated with them and kept quiet. But when we realized that the situation was grave and after four months nothing had happened, my dad was the one who suggested we would inform the Foreign Office because he was scared that his British passport was going to be misused because it was confiscated. And that's how we contacted the Foreign Office, whom, after finding out what happened, also advised us to stay quiet because they thought that these things would be solved easier if we didn't make too much noise and that's why we were quiet for almost two years we were trying to let the foreign office do what they were doing and that was a very intense time for us as a family because it's a very heavy burden to carry with you and not tell anyone you know how do you explain the lack of a family member suddenly and how do you go about your normal day-to-day life

with something like that weighing on you? So it was a very dark time for me because I had to survive. I was on survival mode, not telling people what was wrong, but inside just really being resentful and bitter about everything and everyone. And I remember it was the Iranian regime that actually publicized my dad's case. After two years, I think, what's the point of a hostage if you can't bargain with them? So they released an info about my dad, and then that kind of snowballed into the western media catching up and in order for us to control the narrative we decided to be vocal and first with caution and

then we just threw caution to the wind and we went full-blown with our campaigning and to this day the only regret I have is that we didn't go louder sooner. Yeah, that you didn't go sooner, but you did find your voice. And what was that like then to be able to speak about your father, to talk about his plight? Actually, very liberating, although we did then face a new set of challenges because in my mind having seen how global the news of Nazanin's case had gotten I thought that when we go public we would also receive the same level of attention but it really didn't happen for us that way. And from the moment we went public to this day, it's been a challenge for us to stay relevant in the media.

And I remember to the day that my dad came back, there were still British politicians who didn't know who my dad was. And to this day, there are people who would not know who he was or whether he was on the same plane as Nazanin. And in a way, that was a blessing for me, because having seen what's happening in Iran now and having seen how difficult it's been for the Iranians to amplify their voices globally for this issue, I see resemblances of what happened to me and my case, and the tactics

that I've learned along the way to be heard. I'm applying them to this now. But what would your advice be to those Iranian women right now who are trying to find their voice? I would say be loud. I know it's dangerous. I know that speaking up against this regime carries its own risks. But I do believe this is an instance where sharing these voices, sharing the news of Iran is literally saving lives in Iran because putting international pressure on Iranians and putting them on the spotlight stops them from carrying out the atrocities. And as we've seen yesterday, Britain is now going to formally acknowledge IRGC, Iranian Revolutionary Guards, as a terrorist group. So our voices have been heard and it's working. So I really think we should continue and not let this momentum die.

That was human rights campaigner Helika Ashuri. Now our next guest is the author Millie Johnson. Millie has written 20 novels which have sold over 3 million copies worldwide. She's the winner of the Romantic Novelist Association's Outstanding Achievement Award, as well as Channel 4's Come Dine With Me, Barnsley edition. But all that success seemed like a pipe dream

until she got her first book deal at the age of 40. Well, she joined Jessica Crichton to talk about how she found her voice as a writer, Jess began by asking her about the role of Yorkshire in her work. Yorkshire is in all my books. It's almost a character in itself. I apologise for my croaky throat in the week that you're launching your, how I found my voice, I've actually lost mine. No problem. It's that time of year. Don't worry. that you're launching your how I found my voice I actually lost mine so apologies no problem it's that time of year don't worry it is so when did you realize that writing about real life and

and writing stories set in Yorkshire was going to be so successful for you oh for many years I had to write a book and just couldn't find my niche at all. Just before my 40th birthday, I got pregnant, as did two of my best friends. And we went through our pregnancy journeys together. Now, at this point, I'd been trying to write a book for many years and say, it was when I would all give given birth they were in my front room my friends and it was like it was like a thunderbolt going off I thought why are you writing about this I kind of been looking on the horizon for many years um for what I wanted to write about

and it was at my feet all the time so I I kind of embraced my Yorkshire-ness, if you like, and wrote this story about three women on the cusp of 40 from Yorkshire, all having babies. And an agent I'd been chasing for 15 years just turned around and said, this is the one we've been waiting for. Is that when you realised yourself? Was there a point before that where you thought, I can make something of myself? I can do something that I love and turn it into a living? That's what I wanted to do. But I didn't think anybody would want to read about the North. Because the books at the time were quite London centric. It was the kind of chick lit phenomenon with books set in London and with people in jobs in PR sharing flats.

And that was a life I knew nothing about. So I was trying to ape these books and I couldn't write about them authentically because I haven't lived them. So I hadn't really thought about the Yorkshire thing at all um it was only as I say when um when my hand was forced as it were and I thought I felt this very powerful feeling that this this could just work because for many years I'm um you know I had been uh people had told me to change my accent um we've I think certainly women um in who got regional accents through the years have been told to change their accents I've had loads of stories about well you'll never get anywhere with that accent I was actually sacked from a job for not having the right accent what's the right accent well, they told me, because I was working in North Yorkshire,

and of course in South Yorkshire we've got much shorter vowels, and they told me that my accent was better suited to the textile industry where I came from. Right. And so you can either make that into a fuel that powers you or you can crumble. And I did crumble for a while. And then I kind of thought, do you know what? I'm going to use this.

I'm going to embrace my Yorkshireness. And it wasn't long after that that I got pregnant. And the two worlds combined, the pregnancy world and embracing the Yorkshireness and I've never looked back I mean all my books are stuffed full of Yorkshire because I always thought if I ever bumped into this woman again I'd like to I'd like to make her sick with the amount of Yorkshireness that's in my books and it's given me everything I ever wanted. We don't hear very often about people, particularly women, making, able to turn their passions into a business, into a living so late in life.

Not that it was particularly late being 40, but it's later than perhaps we're taught when we're growing up about when we're going to land that dream job or land that dream career. Do you think your life experience made you successful? It was the reason that you became so successful. Absolutely. I couldn't have written the sort of books that I write now back then. I think it's two of those. There is a season. I have a theory that God thought okay this bird wants to write books I'm going to give her 40 years of experience and then I'm going to let her loose

and that's really what happened to me I you know I didn't have much to say at 20 but at 40 I had lots of life experience I'd been kicked around the ring a few times I've had good jobs bad jobs I've traveled a bit um I had um you know lovely men nice men wonderful friends and the friendship is a is a women's friendship is a is a massive ingredient in all my books and has it changed you finding your voice being a celebrated author I think it's this is going to sound a bit weird. It's changed me because I don't, no longer want to change myself. It's made me content with who I am because these, these short vowels, this has given me everything that I've, I've ever wanted. Um, I don't want to be anything other than I am. And, um, I'm, I'm very happy happy with my career I feel in my niche and I think

that's a wonderful thing I don't think many people feel that they find their real niche and I feel very lucky that I do. Would you inspire others then to follow their passion like you have? Absolutely I mean there was a time in my life when I felt you know I was in a rubbish marriage rubbish job and I thought is this it is this it is this all I have and in my books um I write about um women who have very ordinary lives that doesn't mean to say they can't have their happy endings and with a few tweaks to people's lives they can make themselves so much happier as I did it just took a few a few steps out of the world I was in and a bit of bravery to give me all I wanted and I get so many letters from women saying I've read your books

the women in it are so ordinary I can relate to them and because I think the women are so ordinary, that women see themselves in my books, they see them walking in the skins of the characters. And so that gives them the hope that they can change their lives as well, which is a wonderful thing. Author Millie Johnson there, a Yorkshire woman finding her power. We love to see it. This is a special Woman's Hour podcast where we're bringing you all the interviews in our series, Finding My Voice. Still to come, we'll be hearing from one of the youngest school governors

in the UK and a woman who chose to waive her right to anonymity as a victim of sexual assault. But now, Maud Gober fled her home country of Zimbabwe at the age of 20 due to the harassment and discrimination she faced there for her lesbian identity. Over two decades later, Maud is the chair of trustees for UK Black Pride and the national manager for the organisation Micro Rainbow, which supports LGBT asylum seekers and refugees. Most recently, she managed the integration process of LGBT people who arrived in the UK from Afghanistan. Well, I spoke to Maud earlier in the year and I began by asking her about her life

before she decided to leave Zimbabwe. Life was very tough for me as a Zimbabwe lesbian who grew up as a Christian in a country, I think, along with 67 other countries that criminalize homosexuality. I suffered a lot of discrimination. I lived in fear of persecution. You know, I suffered a lot of harassment. So this is one of the reasons why I made a choice to leave, because I certainly faced a lot more dire situation. I would not have been able to live freely.

So this was one of the reasons why in the end, as a young person, I chose to leave Zimbabwe and I chose to flee. It's a huge decision. Were you able to talk to anyone in your family? Were you able to come out to anyone? I came out to some members of my family, which didn't go really well. And, you know, it ended with me being pushed towards a forced marriage. And that was not for me.

So I did not come out to all members of my family. In the end, that was when I knew I had to leave. I had to make that choice to leave. Like I said, at the age of 20, such a big decision. And then you arrived in the UK as a student. You hadn't been able to be freely open about your sexuality in Zimbabwe. What was the shift like? What was it like when you first got here? It was both. A shift of good shock, you know, arriving in the UK.

I loved the freedom. I simply could not believe that gay couples would be so free to be even affectionate in public without fear of arrest or beatings. I'd also sort of look around to see if there were any disapproving faces or if someone would be coming to push them around for doing that. So it was a good shock. And then there was also another culture shock of now realizing that I didn't know I was black until I arrived in the UK. You're coming from a black majority and then suddenly, you know, you're a minority. And also being an immigrant and an asylum seeker, that is, at that time, I think people

are more aware now of what a refugee is, what an asylum seeker, that is, at that time, I think people are more aware now of what a refugee is, what an asylum seeker is. But back then, people were not aware of such things. And there's such a negative stereotype of asylum seekers. And for me, it really was a serious shock. It meant living in poverty and living with other refugees in home office provided accommodation and that in itself came with um you know homophobia from other refugees who were either from my home country or from the same cultures it meant people were praying for me to to asking where my husband was or asking if my partner was my sister and at at times it meant, you know, going back into the closet

after having, you know, enjoyed this side of freedom. So it meant like living in different parts of myself. Like, you know, I really felt that intersectionality of being a migrant, being a black woman, being a woman. And, you know, it was great. And being gay. It sounds, I'm just processing your whole story, Maud, whilst you're telling me it. I've read it, but hearing it was great. And being gay. It sounds I'm just processing your whole story mode whilst you're telling me it. I've read it, but hearing it is very different.

I can't imagine how difficult that must have been. On top of that, you've left your home country. You've left everything you've known. You've left your family. You've left your friends. And here you are having to live. And you didn't get you didn't get your refugee status granted until 2010. And you weren't able to work those nine years either.

I wasn't able to work. There was that challenge of proving yourself as well. I think many people just have this misconception that asylum seekers don't want to work. I was a very talented young person. I was very confident and forward and I knew what I wanted to do. But, you know, asylum seekers are not allowed to work. You have to wait. You don't know when your interview is coming.

And at that point also, I realized that it wasn't a case of just going to say, you know, this is the persecution I was experiencing. This is the challenges I'm facing and I need safety. It was also proving yourself. How do you prove yourself? But for me, I was lucky enough to have a background in activism. You know, I joined UK Black Pride. I had the support of one of the founders, Phil Opoku.

I had participated in London Pride since I came. You know, I had kind of begged my exes for support letters, which is quite humiliating, but whatever, you know. It was at that point that I realized that, OK, this is kind of an inhumane process. It's a very humbling experience where you have to get evidence and prove your sexuality and wait indefinitely, not knowing when you're going to be interviewed, not knowing when you're going to be able to work, having to set aside your ambitions. But you are now one of the founding members of UK Black Pride. You also advocate for LGBT refugees and asylum seekers, as I mentioned in the intro to you. Now that you're able to freely express all parts of your identity,

how do you think that has helped you find your voice? So I think when I was going through this experience, I really thought I am lucky to be able to get support or to know or to be empowered, but it still affected my mental health. It still affected a lot. So I thought, OK, I don't want anyone else to go through this. I can easily be thought to be straight or heterosexual. What about those people like trans people or trans women who can be easily identified or people can be easily found out to be different? I didn't want people to go through that, or I wanted at least for them to have more support. So I did find my voice in my journey. it was negative but also it really birthed a passion for working refugees I wanted to support others I wanted to be able to be part of that movement that worked

there so that journey really and seeking safety kind of really made me so passionate to help others it helped me to regain my confidence and develop a voice, not only develop a voice, but to push for change and support others. So I use that voice. The brilliant campaigner Maude Gober there, using her voice. This podcast episode is all about finding my voice. If you want to listen to our voices on Woman's Hour, you'll find us on BBC Radio 4 every weekday from 10am and Saturdays at 4pm or any time on BBC Sounds. Just search for Woman's Hour in the app. Now, our next guest, Shakila Scarlett,

was excluded from school when she was just 12 years old. After an appeal process that eventually reversed the decision, she was reinstated. But seeing her case debated by a board of governors made her realise the importance of having young people involved in school governance. At 26, she's now the chair of governors at Stoke Newington School in Hackney, making her one of the youngest chairs of a school governing board in the UK. Shakila joined Nuala on the programme to share her story. And Nuala started by asking her about the moment she was excluded from school when she

was only 12. It was an interesting time so I was excluded for a situation where my bully, school bully had threatened me to do something and I did it bearing in mind the school was aware that I was being bullied and as a result of that sort of my name came up and then I was involved in sort of a permanent exclusion. And that time was quite dark. It was very dark. I'm 12 years old, not really understanding the education system, still quite fresh and being excluded. So then referred to a pupil referral unit, which I would have only been the only girl so thank god my mum didn't um put me there but in trying to sort of navigate that system um it was difficult very very difficult um I come from a working class black background I grew up in Hackney

so um you know the strengths of the education system weren't around us. My mum had to go and find people who could actually support us. She got me an advocate, so someone that could actually advocate on our behalf. And that was really helpful, actually, in the process of getting back into school. And I guess the whole appeal process, it was difficult. I was out of school for two months and the process meant that I had to sort of go and appeal my case to the school governors at the time.

I have to stop you for a second there because just even saying that, Shaquille, I'm thinking of this little 12-year-old girl opposite, is it a table of governors? I don't know, you tell me. Literally, it's opposite um it's kind of like a semi-circle round table type thing and I'm leading with them please allow me back into school because I was you know excluded for something that um I couldn't help but do because you know my school bully was bullying me and if And if prior experience had shown me anything,

it was like, if I don't do it, he's going to hurt me. And, you know, it was quite interesting to see how that all played out because actually further down the line, I was made aware that, you know, I was excluded to be made an example of, not actually because, you know, I actually did anything actively wrong myself. And your opposite, this board of governors. The appeal did work and you got in, but you decided at some point

to try and perhaps change what that board of governors looked like for the kid opposite that semicircle table. Tell me about that. How did you get involved? I mean, I'm just thinking you you might at 12 or 13 be forgiven if you wanted nothing to do with a board of governors again i think for me so it was the whole appeal process and knowing that the governors that were sitting opposite me didn't

look like me and they didn't come from the background i came from um there was no relatableness and actually that was the sort of catalyst for saying actually I want to change something in this world um and I want to be that change so at what age were you then um I got back into school when I was 12 so um but I think the first time I recognized it was when I was 13 and actually started getting involved in um different programs because actually once I was reinstated in school, I got involved with an organisation called Immediate Theatre, which I am now actually chair of trustees for.

So it's a full circle moment, actually. And they sort of helped bring up, because I lost a lot of confidence being out of education for so long, because the times and the trends changed so quickly. And being a part of immediate fit allowed me to grow my confidence and actually you know have some form of personality and drive and passion and actually that's something we do with young people now they do social action and my social action essentially was to you know make sure that there was another there isn't going to

be another student like me who sat in front of a governing body that didn't reflect them. So you have these young people, you were helping them begin working as governors in schools. You become a chair of governors at the age of 26. What do you think a 12-year-old Shakila would say to this chair now of uh school governors um i think it would be a case of i can't believe you did it like i can't believe you did it i think that's one thing that i've

been so proud to be able to do like every time i've set my mind to do something i've always done it um as part of my journey to sort of get to this point, I was involved in Hackney Young Futures Commission with Hackney Council, as well as doing other projects and stuff. And actually, as part of that project with Hackney Council, I set up a young governing programme in Hackney with Hackney Education to get young governors on boards as associates. And actually, as part of that process, I set it up, I participated, and then I was co-opted as a governor. And then subsequently, within the year, I was made chair. And I'm so excited to be able to sort of actually in sort of one of the events I attended we went to um we took some young people there and actually we had a student sitting next to her chair of governors and they she didn't know who she was and I think that's really um ridiculous personally because actually governors are the sort of um legal key holders for the school and actually um for students to not know who they are.

I think it's just it's silly. And I've been so prominent in trying to, you know, be present and be visible within school over the first time last year. And actually, that's been so it's been so nice because actually people recognize me. And yeah, working with my headteacher has been incredible. And how about when you're working as that person that you faced in the sense of you have a little kid, opposite you maybe, that faces the threat of being excluded? I think for me it's the younger understanding so the percentage of governors who are under the age of 30 is like less than two percent and actually I'm a lot closer to the

education system experience than you know 75 percent of governors who sit on current governing bodies and actually having an understanding of what's going on in the world you know being in touch with the cool kids as someone would someone said it to me the other day but actually you know understanding what's going on in the world understanding what the education system is like and currently like and actually taking into account all of these things that have been happening with the world, like COVID, that has had a major impact on students and student behaviour, as well as just trying to understand that, you know, instead of sitting down and talking about it and talk about it,

we need to be solution-focused in these sort of environments. We can't just, you know, talk and talk and talk and nothing gets done. Too often that's the case. Well, you obviously have done so much. You know, I was so interested to read that you feel, I don't know whether you still do anymore, but that you did suffer from imposter syndrome, which I think lots of people will identify with.

And I find that difficult, of course, speaking to you as such a confident 26-year-old woman as you are. But I wonder, you know, as you find your voice, what you might say to others who perhaps you know have that sense of imposter syndrome or that they're somewhere that they shouldn't be? I still do suffer sometimes I think for me it's just about understanding that you know what you are at this table for a reason and you know if you want to make some change you've got to sit at in certain tables or certain spaces in order to make that change and I think for me every time I sort of get a bit

of worry like oh my god am I really doing this I literally go back to that thought of you deserve to be here you want to be the change you've got to see in the world so sit at this table and own it and I think that's really my sort of mantra for this year going forward. That was Shakila Scarlett, Chair of Governors at Stoke Newington School, sharing her incredible story. So this special episode has been dedicated to the women on our programme who had a moment which made them realise they needed to speak out to find their voice. And when this next guest chose to speak out, it was vital to her that she did so using her own name. Liz Roberts was in her late 50s when she reported to the police the sexual abuse she'd suffered as a child at the hands of her brother more than half a century ago. Her brother, 67-year-old Andrew Herbert, was sentenced in November 2022 after pleading guilty to 10 counts of indecent assault against two girls.

Victims of sexual offences in the UK are automatically granted a right to lifelong anonymity, but Liz chose to waive this right in order, in her words, give confidence to other survivors that if they tell the police their story, they will investigate and justice can be achieved. I spoke to Liz earlier this year. A warning, our discussion does cover some issues that some of you may find distressing. I started by asking her what the impact was of staying silent for so many years. Basically, your brain becomes hardwired.

So it means that instead of dealing with stress in a moderate way through life, any stress that would come in my way would be dealt with as an eight-year-old child, a complete overreaction. So what would be a normal thing to you would be the end of the world to me. So you're living your life waiting. You don't realise this is happening at the time, but you're waiting for this. So you get anxiety, you get depression, at times suicidal. I developed an eating disorder when I was in my teens. Just the feelings of negativity and that you're weak and stupid and helpless. I did disclose to my parents when I was in my 20s.

And the reaction? Well, the initial reaction was disbelief, which I guess is an understandable, it's denial as opposed to disbelief. Well, no, this can't be happening. But then it was trying to justify it. And it's the as opposed to disbelief well no this can't be happening but then it was trying to justify it and it's the age-old thing well it's just kids messing around and I remember saying at the time well hang on you know I was eight and he he was twice my age and he was looking after me it's not it's there's no there's nothing curious about an eight-year-old's body it's nothing

nothing sexual in it at all but there was with him because he was a fully developed young man and back in the 70s 15 16 year olds were out at work they weren't at school anymore he was an adult in every sense so we can really you've explained to us how you know you can remain silent for such a long time with all these different factors, with it being the era that it was, the type of family you were in, the personalities of your parents, you being such a little girl and not knowing where you can turn or how to deal with it. So then why in 2020, after 50 years, did you come forward to report it as a crime? What changed? What changed? did you come forward to report it as a crime what changed what changed back in 2018 uh or 2017 things started to change with my mother my father had passed away um my mother her health started

to decline and it started to decline because ironically again because of the actions of of andrew and he heard it was going through a situation with his marriage I don't think we've named him yet so this is Andrew your oldest brother sorry Andrew yeah Andrew Herbert um so he he was going through um a situation with his with his wife in his home life and my mum um was experiencing the shame of that and um and it it caused her to stop eating for a number of days and her health she was in her in her 80s at the time and it reduced it reduced her health very notably very very quickly now I used to do the dutiful thing and I would bring her down to my home in Somerset every every few months and and

she'd spend a weekend here and I noticed this big change in her and um I said what's going on and she said oh it's terrible I I'll tell you when we get to your house and then we've got to my house um I sat down and said look you know what what's wrong mum I was expecting her to say um she had a terminal illness or somebody in the family was ill. And she said, well, it's Andrew. His wife's thrown him out. And I actually laughed out loud. I said, is that all? And but what shocked me was the the devastation that she had around that event versus the lack of devastation she had about that same individual having done what he did to me was was oh my god you know you can imagine you can't imagine I can't imagine I'm feeling it though definitely feeling the injustice so i'm all about justice and and i raged and i

really raged about this and my life then started to fall apart um because what a letdown you went to the police and he was convicted he was charged with 12 counts um 10 counts of sexual assault and two counts of rape. Here's the thing, Liz, because this whole series is about finding your voice. What's interesting in your story is that in the UK, a victim of sexual offence has a right to anonymity from the moment they make the allegation. Yeah. But everything changed for you, didn't it,

when you decided to wave that right this is what i'm really interested in hearing about because having you on woman's hour telling us this story is so powerful i'm sure everyone listening is you know gripping hold listening to your every word why did you choose to wave your anonym anonymity? Why was that important? It was crucial because for me, it's about shame and such a small word and such a huge response. And speaking to my barrister before the trial, she assumed the assumption is that the victim survivors, I'm a survivor now, I'm not a victim any longer, victims and survivors, it's assumed that they won't speak out. And it's patronising for me. I found it very patronising that I wasn't asked whether I would want to speak out. It was assumed automatically. And I felt ashamed by my own barrister that she'd she'd taken that route but that's the route that every the system takes it and it to protect the

victim and that's the reason it does yes but for you it was very different you wanted to say who you were you wanted to talk about it what did what did they say when you said that they agreed they said well actually we need to need to review how we speak to victims in the future, because they could see how important it was to me. So for me, Andrew's always been bigger and stronger than me. It's about control. And if whatever happened at the trial at that stage, we didn't know what was going to happen at the trial. I knew he would reinvent himself. He would still be my big brother that's bigger and stronger than me. And I would then shrink back into the shadows.

Because you're the one who's always been made to feel the shame. Yes. But it's not your shame. No, but it becomes your shame. It becomes your guilt. And then there's the family guilt that you're going to destroy this so-called family but it's a fake family so what did it do for you finding your voice then when you were able to say this has happened to me it was my brother this is and he's now he's you know

he's been he's been charged and what did anything change oh my god yeah absolutely well I'm here for a start people that you speak to the officer in the case DC Norton um held my hand through the whole legal process which took two years two really really difficult years and she watched me she carried out my uh police interview on camera and and then she saw me conduct my first interview to the media which was again on camera and she didn't recognize me and that that transformation wasn't a gradual thing over two years it was almost instantaneous from from from the trial from speaking to someone like you, someone that showed empathy, that was really interested, because I actually didn't believe that anyone cared. If my own

parents didn't care, why should anyone else? You know, sibling sexual abuse is one of the most common forms of sexual assault. But nobody talks about it where is everybody you know so and now I mean I'm seeing this this there is a community there but they haven't got a voice or they don't don't seem to be able to use that voice and suddenly everyone's popping up and saying to me I'm getting people tapping on my window in a car in my local community saying you're wow you're a hero this happened to me well that happened to someone I know you're doing a great job and and and so what became a selfish thing like I've got to keep the tables turned and keep in control of this the only way I can do that is to keep talking about it keep him in the dark and keep me in the light by doing

this it's become way way bigger than that now yeah i can feel it we know that's where you know you can sense that you have taken the power back you have got control of the situation but here's another question for you liz you were a police officer for some years why and you were presumably having to deal with people coming to you to talk about their own experiences of sexual assault. I can't imagine how difficult that would have been for you. Why did you never come forward to talk about it yourself? Why did you never feel that you could report this? I think a lot of that is down to dissociation.

So going back to that child, you can't physically live your life in that in that constant state of stress or fear of stress. So you box it off and you lock it away. The other really important thing here. And I've had a lot of time to think about this is that as a police officer, I knew the definition of rape. I knew the definition of a section 18 wounding, a section 20 wounding. I knew all of that. But you don't apply that to your own family or your own loved ones. Rape is very much seen, and I think it still is seen, as something that happens by strangers to strangers. It's something that's done out of the home. It's not something that's done uh or sexual assault um done in in the home I didn't associate speaking to the to the women and it was mainly women um because the

children didn't come forward and often the families when the children do speak out the families close ranks around them I believe and to protect they think speak out, the family's clothes ranked around them, I believe, and to protect. They think they're protecting the family, but they're protecting the child, but they're protecting the family, the greater good. So first of all, I didn't associate myself in that victim mode. I also did, hand on heart, think back in the 80s when I was a police officer, I probably wouldn't have been believed. I would have been treated probably almost as the perpetrator because I'd seen it myself. You know, I'd seen young women's lives fall apart. They've reported sexual assault to the police and then they're questioned.

And everything around it is about proving their their guilt and they have to jump through such big hoops to do that but now I didn't know this until I'd reported it there's a whole wraparound service uh that that helps you and guides you and nobody ever says we don't believe it's taken from the assumption that you're telling the truth so so much has changed. It's taken from the assumption that you're telling the truth. So, so much has changed within the police force in the time that you've been there. And it actually was when you left that you were able to go. And how are you now?

How do I look? You look fantastic. Not a good question for radio, is it? I know. Well, I can see you. I'm looking at you. I mean, we can hear it in your voice, Liz. I don't think people need to see you to hear. Yeah, I'm I'm proud. I've been really nervous about doing this and about this one, because I know this is really important. And I know a lot of my friends and a lot of my new friends, new family if you like are listening to this and and

that he was all go you know go for it you know and and there's a lot at stake here for me because I really want to get the message across to people that it's never too late it's never too late and it's a natural thing to wait decades it really is natural for this to be like that. It's not the, oh, why now? Nobody's going to believe me. People will believe you. And hitting the justice button doesn't just mean going to the police. It's about speaking. And the freedom I feel now talking to you is I can't, if I could bottle it, I would.

And that's all it's taken really someone to listen someone to say that was awful what happened to you the fact that I now know that over those years I wasn't going mad that I wasn't the bad person that was always angry that people didn't like and people didn't get on with these were symptoms of something that was done to me as a helpless child. I should have been protected by my parents. I wasn't. What worries me is that as I'm speaking, it's happening to somebody now.

And those children haven't got a voice. So I'd like this to be not finding your voice as an adult. I'm finding my voice as a child. That was Liz Roberts. Thank you to Liz and to all our guests for using their voices and speaking to us on the programme. If you'd like to listen to the full programmes that any of our guests appeared in,

you can find them in the BBC Sounds app. Thank you so much for listening. I'm Sarah Treleaven, and for over a year, I've been working on one of the most complex stories I've ever covered. There was somebody out there who was faking pregnancies. I started, like, warning everybody. Every doula that I know. It was fake.

No pregnancy. And the deeper I dig, the more questions I unearth. How long has she been doing this? What does she have to gain from this? From CBC and the BBC I dig, the more questions I unearth. How long has she been doing this? What does she have to gain from this? From CBC and the BBC World Service, The Con, Caitlin's Baby. It's a long story, settle in. Available now.