by Helen Basili

She has been through hell. She thought she had found a new home in Australia but now, Rosa Esperanza is to be deported. 

Rosa Esperanza is counting down the days. As the moment draws closer for her deportation, she is filled with an increasing sense of dread. Her airfare will be covered if she agrees to return to her homeland of Ecuador. If not, she has to take matters into her own hands.

The choice for Rosa, is an obvious one. In Ecuador she will be faced with a violent husband and a father-in-law who has threatened to slit her throat. Even if she manages to avoid them there are the ubiquitous government agents who, Rosa believes, will take her life. If Rosa has any doubts, she only need remember what happened last time. It is something she is unlikely to forget.

Rosa will go anywhere except Ecuador. She has three children. They cannot afford to be left motherless. They have suffered enough. If Rosa cannot find the strength to survive for her own sake, she does so for her children. She will maintain her struggle so that they may have a better future.

Speaking through an interpreter, Rosa says: "When I am with my children I am always laughing and trying to lift their spirits. I say ‘don’t worry about it, I know what I’m doing’." But the reality is, their future is far from certain.

Rosa’s predicament grew out of a desire to help others. A charity worker since she was a little girl, Rosa never dreamed that her actions would result in such horrific consequences.

In 1996, Rosa and her family returned to Quito, the capital of Ecuador, after a period abroad. The family were well off and this enabled Rosa to continue her charity work. She was introduced to some Italian nuns who invited her to join them in assisting prisoners in the men’s and women’s jails in Quito. Rosa happily accepted, looking forward to the chance to improve the prisoner’s quality of life.

The work in the prisons was difficult and overwhelming at first, but Rosa persisted. She organised religious and handicraft groups, showed films and arranged for medical supplies and food to be distributed among the prisoners.

Soon after commencing work in the prisons, Rosa became a member of the Partido Roldosista Equatoriano (PRE), the ruling party in Ecuador at the time. "They were a political party that helped the poor. I observed them going into poor communities and building schools and other social services. I thought it was a good party and that was how I came to meet the sister-in-law of the president of the republic," says Rosa.

Her involvement in the party escalated and she began to meet other influential PRE members. Rosa was startled when she learnt that the PRE had initiated covert, sinister activities to enrich these members. She grew even more alarmed when she realised she was being coerced to participate.

According to Rosa, the president’s brother had implemented a drug-dealing operation using prisoners in the jails where she was active. In a statement to the Refugee Review Tribunal (RRT), Rosa wrote: "[The prisoners] wanted to use me because I was above suspicion. They asked me to be a courier and offered me a lot of money. I refused. Then they started threatening me and I became afraid. Once they put a little plastic bag in one of my books and told the prison officer that I was carrying drugs."

Rosa reduced her prison visits and attempted to end her involvement with the PRE but was threatened that she would be ‘taken care of’ by ‘Los Pepudos’, the PRE’s militia group. Terrified, she searched for other options. She discovered that the PRE was looking for a diplomat in London but in order to get the position, she and her husband would have to pay thousands of dollars in bribes. As they could not afford all the money, they paid a deposit and signed over their property deeds and belongings as security until the balance was repaid.

Things went terribly wrong. The PRE government was overthrown on 7 February 1997 and Rosa and her family lost everything. Their hopes of a secure life in London were shattered. Many PRE members were fleeing the country, fearing retributions from the new government. Rosa decided that she would have to do the same thing. Her husband and children hid at her brother’s house and Rosa went back to the family home to collect the few personal belongings they had left.

There was a knock at the door. Three men bearing police identification badges stood outside. They came in and began searching. "They were removing books from the bookshelves. They opened all the doors and went upstairs and checked under the beds," wrote Rosa in her RRT statement. The men kept asking her the whereabouts of the president’s brother and his wife. She had no idea. They bashed her. They told her her children wouldn’t return from school. Then they forced her into their car.

"We drove out of the city...They took me out of the car. They took all my clothes off and the three of them raped me.

"I think after what had happened I lost consciousness. When I awakened I was already in hospital. The doctor told me that I was found by some people in a small town called Cayambe," wrote Rosa.

The nightmare continued. "My brother and I told my husband what had happened. He blamed me and accused me of having lovers who did this to me. My husband’s family were told of what had occurred and my brother said that my father-in-law had told him that he wanted to kill me for all the things that my husband had lost because of me."

Rosa had to escape. Her life depended on it. With the assistance of a friend, she and her family were able to leave Ecuador. They were issued with a family passport and flew to Australia on a tourist visa in April 1997.

For Rosa and her children, life in Australia as an asylum seeker has been an ordeal. Her husband became violent and she separated from him last year. Soon after, she had a stroke and was hospitalised for four months. Rosa has been caring for her children on her own and, as an asylum seeker, she is not entitled to any social security or medical assistance. "Sometimes I don’t understand how up until now I have been able to survive. I think that god opens his doors every day to give me something," says Rosa.

Recently, Rosa’s application for refugee status was rejected by the RRT. The Tribunal accepted that Rosa had been sexually assaulted, had experienced significant personal losses and had knowledge about corruption within PRE. However, it considers that she does not satisfy the criteria for refugee status under the 1951 Convention relating to the Status of Refugees. The Tribunal believes that the harm Rosa fears is not "owing wholly or partly to an imputed or a perceived political opinion".

In the decision handed down by the RRT, the Tribunal member wrote: "The fact that the applicant is targeted by those connected with the PRE or political rivals is not because of her political opinion but because of circumstances personal to her."

Rosa and her children are to be deported.

"I felt like a mouse in a trap [when I heard the news]. I didn’t know what to do. I thought that [the Australian government] were going to be able to help me especially after the situation I have been through. I don’t really know why they haven’t been able to help me," says Rosa.

She struggles to speak through her tears: "Sometimes I feel like I am going through a nightmare and someone is going to shake me and say ‘it is only a nightmare, wake up’."

Rosa and her children are leaving for Mexico. She is desperately trying to scrape together money for the airfares. A number of fundraising activities have been staged to help her and she will soon be prepared for the journey. She doesn’t know anyone there but arrangements have been made for them to stay with a group of nuns in a convent.

"I don’t think it’s good to be running with my suitcase without any stability, running from here to there. Now I’m going to Mexico and maybe they won’t accept me there and I’ll have to run somewhere else," says Rosa.

Her search for respite has no end in sight.

Rosa’s real name has been changed to protect her privacy.