Dead women walkng

In 2005, a Taiwanese government survey estimated that around 35% of wives were suffering domestic violence, the divorce rate had doubled to about 30%, and more than 4,000 people had committed suicide in that year alone. In her book, Dead Women Walking, Jennifer Su tells the true stories behind these statistics, and shows how the gospel is dramatically transforming lives…

‘Lady’, he said, ‘have a glass of wine with me and I will give you $100.’

Mei sat down next to the man, drank the wine and smiled coyly, before moving on to serve other tables. As a child, Mei’s family never had enough money to take special note of her birthday, so now she made up for it by daily telling clients it was her ‘birthday’ so they would buy her treats and give her money. Mei relished the newfound attention.

Not all the men Mei attracted would approach her on such friendly terms. Most of Mei’s more generous customers came from the dregs of society; many were involved in gangs. When a regular group of customers suddenly stopped coming to the restaurant, Mei discovered they had all been sent to a prison on Green Island used to confine Taiwan’s worst criminals.

Mei tried not to divulge information about her personal life to customers, but one day a man followed her when she went to see her son’s nanny. This man, like many others, tried to convince Mei to live with him. Her refusals only made him more adamant. After following her, he tried another tactic.

‘If you don’t marry me, I’ll kidnap your son.’

The blue van

Life had gotten complicated, and Mei was glad that she had freed her infant son from the mess. Actually, when the kind doctor had urged her to give her son up for adoption, she felt that the right decision was obvious. She felt terrible about her behaviour as a mother but had to keep working in the restaurants. Getting rid of her son allowed her to continue working and mixing with the unwholesome company that kept up her income.

One evening, a group of customers who were members of a gang invited Mei to go out with them and have some fun. Simply not in the mood, Mei refused. The rest of the evening passed without incident and after Mei’s late-night shift ended, she left the restaurant alone, exhausted and eager to return home.

Suddenly, a blue van pulled up. Three men, armed with knives, jumped out. They grabbed her and pushed her into the van. Then she recognised them: they were the gangsters whom she had rejected earlier in the day.

Knowing that nobody was near enough to hear her if she tried to cry or scream Mei kept her mouth shut. She knew what was coming. ‘I deserve this, I’m very bad, I’ve had a bad past, very bad.’

The men drove her to a nondescript building, obscured in darkness. They forced her into a small room. As they took turns raping her, she tried to appear brave, though inwardly she was afraid — afraid of getting pregnant or contracting disease, afraid of what they would do to her when they were through.

‘Take me home’

After they finished, Mei finally broke her silence.

‘Now that you’re finished, please take me home’, she said, her voice forcibly calm and confident. ‘I won’t go tell the police, because I don’t know you at all. But if you leave me here, I might not be able to get home.’

‘Fine’, said one of her attackers, wearing an expression that almost resembled pity. But the other two refused. An argument ensued.

‘C’mon, we just wanted the sex, right? We didn’t mean to kill anyone’, insisted the first. Finally, his argument prevailed, and the men dropped Mei off in a remote area.

The next day, it was back to work as usual. Mei had already been sexually abused as a child; she wasn’t terribly surprised that it had happened again. And she certainly was not going to quit her job. After all, she earned such an impressive income

‘Marry me’

The incident didn’t keep Mei from continuing to associate with gang members either. In her line of work, there was little way to avoid them. In time, she caught the eye of one particular customer. Han was a construction worker who specialised in laying cement. Just as Mei began to feel lonely, he began to show interest in her. They lived together for two years, and Han asked Mei to marry him. She declined. But he kept asking.

Mei felt increasingly dubious about the idea, especially since he had stopped working, opting to spend her money instead. Even so, the emotional black hole in her heart devoured her sense of judgement. ‘Well, he really does care for me’, she thought, her former resolve wearing thin. Meanwhile, Han became more insistent in his proposals, which were starting to sound more like commands. Mei eventually complied.

Mei’s previous marriage had been so terrible that it was difficult for her to imagine anything worse. But not long after she married Han, the unimaginable became reality. What frightened her most was that when Han was angry, he exercised absolutely no restraint. With one hand, he would hold her hands behind her back. With the other, he would pound her, punching ruthlessly. Sometimes he beat her for half an hour or more before he became too tired to lift a fist.

One day Han took Mei to a kind of pub called a jiu-jia. As Mei mingled gregariously, Han spoke with the pub manager and then returned to his wife’s side.

‘Stay and work here today. I’ll come back later tonight and get you’, he told her. Then he left.

Mei worked as usual, serving drinks and flirting with the customers. One customer, though, was not satisfied with her service. He wanted more. He wanted her.

Peeved by the man’s insolence, Mei went straight to her manager. The manager looked at her sternly.‘You’ve already been left here, so you must do it!’ he ordered. ‘If you don’t believe me, then call your husband.’

Mei was stunned. Fuming, she went to the phone and dialled. As she held the phone to her ear and listened, the words coming through the receiver were unbelievable...

‘Just stay there, be good and do what they tell you to do’, said the man on the other end of the line. The man, who, for a hefty sum, had just sold his own wife into prostitution.

The living God

As Mei lay in bed, a cool breeze swept over her body. She knew that her room had no window or fan, but by now she had gotten past questioning such strange occurrences.

The breeze blew into her through her mouth and nose. She started to tremble. She felt as if her body was being filled with water, all the way down to her toes. Then a momentary whirlpool suctioned it all into her stomach, which tightened and locked shut.

‘There’s only one who can unlock this. Go to the top of the house.’

The brigade of spirits that usually surrounded Mei scattered at the sound of the voice. She shuffled to the roof.

‘Hold out your hands.’

She extended her arms to the side, her body forming the shape of a cross. Two beams of light came down from the sky and touched her hands. Gradually, the light crept onto the rest of her body.

‘I am huo shen, the fire God’, Mei thought she heard. Several years would pass before she would realise what had really been said — the difference lying in two usually insignificant Chinese characters.

‘I am huo zhe de shen, the Living God.’

Dead Women Walking is available from OMF (http://www.omf.org.uk/books) at £9.99.