Allegations of Sexual Abuse


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Opinion and Discussion - 2006

 




The Press
June 3 2006

Her word against his
by Yvonne Martin

When a woman reports a rape, it is only the start of a gruelling process. In the second of a two-part series, Yvonne Martin looks at what it is like for women whose cases make it to court.

"Court was a nightmare," says a woman, 44, raped by a family friend in her home, while her two children slept. "Having to see the guy who raped me, which meant his face becoming clearer again in my nightmares; the accusations from the defence lawyer and going over the events in such detail with all those strange faces looking and listening."

Another woman, 56, who works as a community worker supporting people going to court, found the tables turned when she was raped by a client's brother who had become her boyfriend.

"I was familiar with the court process, but I definitely found it degrading," she says.

For women who report rapes and make it through the bagatelle game of the police investigation, the criminal trial can be brutal.

Under our adversarial system, rape trials often become bruising battles of one side trying to destroy the credibility of the other, and messy arguments over consent.

In the last 20 years, laws covering rape have been significantly tightened, including extra protection for victims giving evidence.

Despite the improvements, rape victims say the court process remains a white-knuckle rollercoaster ride, with their own credibility on trial as much as that of the accused.

Does our prosecution process need a legal makeover so that it is more humane, less adversarial? And why the confusion with the notion of consent?

* * *

At 2am, the single mother (then 40, now 44) was woken by a rap on the bedroom window.

Seeing her neighbour's face, she assumed something was wrong with his family and let him into the house.

But the neighbour was cold-calling for sex and, fuelled by alcohol and passion, was not about to be deterred.

He forced the woman towards the bedroom, but seeing her young son was sleeping in her bed, he raped her on the lounge settee instead.

"The awful thing was that the door to the bedroom had been pushed open and I could see my son lying in bed the whole time," she says. "The incident blew my life apart."

In the court sequel 16 months on, the defence lawyer made much of the cannabis cigarette she had shared with the accused at a party earlier that night. And the nightie she was wearing when she opened the door to let him in.

"His (the accused's) story was that I had invited him over to the house, but I must have changed my mind and didn't want his wife to know," she says.

"But his story fell down on the fact that I had scratches and bruises and was ripped internally in two places."

The jury preferred her version of events. He was jailed for eight years in April, 2004.

The criminal who raped the 56-year-old community worker had a similar problem arguing their sex was consensual -- her broken collarbone from being flung against a wall.

Assistant Police Commissioner Clint Rickards and former officers Brad Shipton and Bob Schollum argued that they had consensual sex with Rotorua complainant Louise Nicholas, but denied raping her. They were acquitted of all charges relating to her, but still face historic sexual allegations from a second woman.

With DNA advances making it harder for men accused of rape to argue "not me", many are turning to the defence of having reasonable belief in consent.

In the absence of witnesses and physical evidence, a trial run on such grounds can become a contest of credibility: her word against his.

The onus is on the Crown to prove that sex was non-consensual and that the accused could not have believed on reasonable grounds that there was consent.

But the notion of consent is hugely vexed for couples, police investigators, lawyers, lawmakers and probably juries, too.

Wellington human-rights lawyer Joy Liddicoat says people's perception of consent varies widely and is coloured by myths and stereotypes.

Any Coronation Street fan will be familiar with how Shelley the barmaid and her abusive builder boyfriend Charlie are charting some murky sexual waters.

Now paranoid and reclusive, Shelley is being coerced into sex by Charlie's "if you loved me you would" lines.

"It is clear Shelley doesn't want to do it and yet, would you say it's consensual or not?" says Liddicoat.

"There are issues about what persuasion is and what resistance means. Possibly some men may not even be aware that they are having non-consensual sex."

Lawmakers grappled with the thorny issue of consent when they amended the Crimes Act last year. They came up with a list of what consent was not. Not protesting or resisting is not consent. Neither can a person consent if they are asleep, unconscious, rendered incapable by drugs or alcohol, or mistaken about the other person's identity.

"It would be very hard to get even the most experienced criminal lawyer to give you a succinct definition of consent, and that's a problem," says Catherine Rodgers, convener of the Wellington Women Lawyers' Association.

"How is the rest of society meant to know what they are supposed to be doing if all they have is negative definitions?"

Her group is asking a select committee considering the Evidence Bill to put some onus on the accused to show they took positive steps to gain the complainant's consent.

The group favours the Canadian criminal code which does just that. "You can't be reckless. You can't just blunder on in," says Rodgers. "You actually have to have a bit of communication by the eyes, by words, to ensure that your partner is happily involved in this activity with you."

Critics of the criminal-justice system have argued that Louise Nicholas's character was more of a focus in her court case than the characters of the defendants.

The women lawyers want a tightening of "rape shield legislation" -- laws introduced to control the extent to which complainants can be questioned about previous sexual experience. For example, they want a total ban on complainants being questioned about sexual acts with anyone other than the accused.

As the law stands, victims can be questioned about their sexual history and reputation, but only if the judge gives special permission.

Rodgers says her group is concerned that the judge's discretion is too wide, allowing inconsistencies to creep into the system.

Not only are women much more likely than men to be victims of sexual assault, but they may have a harder battle proving their credibility.

A discussion paper by the Law Commission in 1997 suggested that in court proceedings, women do not have their credibility judged in the same way as men.

One reason given was that women did not seem to fulfil the "general social expectations about how a credible speaker is supposed to sound: like a man".

Women tended to speak less confidently than men, used more hesitant language, fillers ("you know"), or questions with rising intonation, and were therefore less persuasive.

On the up side, law reforms have made it easier for rape victims appearing in court. They no longer have to give oral evidence at preliminary hearings, unless the judge considers it necessary.

No corroboration of the victim's evidence is needed to obtain a conviction, and the Crown no longer has to prove actual penetration of the vagina.

Other improvements have been suggested by victim advocates and lawyers pushing for a taskforce on how rapes are tried in this country.

Options include specialist courts or an inquisitorial system where a judge is presented with evidence from both sides.

Crown prosecutor Jane Farish, of Christchurch, believes a more inquisitorial approach could be used in cases where the accused has a family relationship with the victim.

"Normally they involve quite young complainants. There are often parallel proceedings occurring in the Family Court, be it custody and access, or care and protection issues," she says. "The process in the Family Court is often a lot shorter than the process in the criminal court."

The 44-year-old single mum says having court proceedings more promptly, and lawyers appointed to look after victims, would make a world of difference.

She had no-one to ring with questions that filled the long sleepless nights when her trial was postponed three times. There was nobody, aside from her counsellor, to advise her how to dress for court or how to act.

Meanwhile, the 56-year-old community worker has chosen the restorative-justice path to resolve outstanding issues with her boyfriend-turned-rapist.

She was a shy, middle-class academic, drawn to a guitar-playing, heavily tattooed criminal with mohawk and dreadlocks.

They were the ultimate odd couple, attracting stares wherever they went, and they have opted for an alternative way to resolve their conflict.

The offender admitted the violent rape at the 11th hour, sparing her from testifying. As a recidivist offender, he got 10 years jail in 2004, and a judge's warning that it would be open-ended preventive detention next time.

The victim, disappointed that the sentence was "overly harsh" and did not order anger management and sexual-abuse counselling, rang the prison to ask if the offender would attend a restorative-justice meeting.

He agreed, and this week she gets the chance to put her view before him, something denied her by his guilty plea.

"It's going to be very difficult," she says. "But I want to make sure he hears how I feel and how it has impacted on my life. I am very distrusting. I can't imagine myself having a relationship with any man ever again. I never knew what frigidity meant but I know now."