"My father has always thought that the school curriculum was not good enough and had probably planned to give my sister and me (my brother was too young) extra lessons outside of school from before my birth. From the ages of 8 to 11, my father spent a lot of time doing just that. Prior to the extra tuition, I had always been afraid of both of my parents; my father spent a lot of time working away and at that time my mother took it upon herself to give us extra tuition although she didn’t feel confident in doing this as she does not have a degree. However, that didn’t stop her from trying though and I remember once at my grandparents’ flat I could not remember how to do a particular calculation (I was about 8 or 9 years old), she hit quite hard a few times to take out her frustration and maybe naively believed that could help jog my memory but it didn’t. I remember crying, my grandmother was telling her to stop and it had really hurt. Little did I know that the worst was yet to come.

My family moved to Blackpool when I was about 9 years old and we lived above a Take Away shop; my parents both ran the shop and this meant that my father could spend a lot of time giving my sister and I extra tuition. Performing well at school means getting top marks and this was what my father wanted. As a child, all I was interested in was playing and watching the TV; I had no desire to study hard. At school I was neither top nor bottom of the class, I was getting average marks and I was pleased with that, however, when I informed my father, he was displeased with my efforts and said that this was not good enough and that I should be aiming for the top. My father would teach my sister and me at a much higher level than our current level at school, my weakest subjects were Maths and Science. After my father had taught us a particular topic in Maths, he would then move onto another topic and revisit the previous topic a few weeks later. Unfortunately I would forget the previous topic every time and that gave him the perfect opportunity to hit us. It wasn’t a “soft” hit, he would hit with all of his strength. It did not matter how loudly I cried, he would continue to hit as hard as possible. I remember a scenario where I had said the wrong answer and with every wrong answer, he would hit me harder and harder until I was so hurt and scared before finally giving the right answer. Sometimes I cried and howled so loudly that my mother had to tell my father to stop hitting/beating me (and/or my sister) as the customers could hear and were starting to wonder what was going on. My father would then have no choice but to stop. My father would even have the cheek to ask me afterwards if he had hurt me and I always said no even though I felt so hurt and confused and would have done anything I could to get the top marks my parents so badly wanted.

Not content with just the physical abuse, my parents would also criticise my siblings and me. Sometimes they would feel ashamed of their children and sadly ask why they couldn’t have had intelligent children who could achieve the top marks. Sometimes being criticised and called names by my parents hurt more than the physical abuse. During the three years of the physical (and emotional abuse, although this had never stopped), a teacher noticed that I never smiled or laughed like the other children my age would. I never told anyone what was happening at home either."

Not everyone is lucky enough to be born into a good family and some people have a difficult and traumatic childhood. Abuse in childhood doesn't stay there, its impact can last a lifetime. 

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