Innocence reclaimed: a mother's story (The Age, 2/3/08)
ON A cold, wintry Monday morning, a mother put a can of petrol in her shopping bag and went to her teenage daughter's Melbourne school. The woman, sleepless for the four nights since her daughter had failed to return home from school, sat in the deputy principal's office and begged to be told where her daughter was.
Sitting opposite her, almost knee to knee, the deputy principal insisted she didn't know.
In fact, she did. The 19-year-old had been sent to a refuge after complaining at school about trouble at home over her choice of boyfriend. Because "it was confidential information", the deputy principal felt she could not divulge it.
That decision tipped the distraught mother over the edge. She poured the petrol over herself. The mother of seven, her youngest only eight weeks old, said she had matches and would burn herself unless she was told where her missing daughter was.
Maribyrnong Secondary College deputy principal Meredith Clencie recoiled as drops of petrol splashed her skirt and shoes. As the smell of petrol filled the room, she looked at the oil column heater in the corner and wondered if it could ignite the fuel vapour.
The mother, 37-year-old Rajaa Abdul-Rasool, continued to shout, weep and call for her daughter. But she showed no sign of reaching for matches. She sat in the chair, petrol soaking her clothing and burning her skin.
Ms Clencie called for help. Within an hour, police and ambulance officers had strapped the weeping mother to a stretcher and taken her to the Footscray Police Station, where a doctor declared she was unfit for questioning — and suggested she might also be suffering post-natal depression.
For Ms Abdul-Rasool, the apparent disappearance of her daughter was another threatened loss in a life already deeply scarred by loss of family. Her father-in-law and five brothers-in-law had been kidnapped and murdered by Saddam Hussein's soldiers, and she had had to leave her parents behind when she escaped Iraq.
One constant in a life of dispossession had been her close bond with her daughter, Rafif. Fleeing Basra in 1986, she had carried the girl, then three, in her arms as she trekked across the snow-capped Zagros Mountains to a refugee camp in Iran.
Sixteen years on, she had been told she was safe in Australia. But in 2002, when her daughter vanished, Saddam was still in power and Ms Abdul-Rasool feared his agents might find her. Psychiatrists had diagnosed her with post-traumatic stress disorder — a condition that included insomnia and perpetual anxiety.
ON A cold, wintry Monday morning, a mother put a can of petrol in her shopping bag and went to her teenage daughter's Melbourne school. The woman, sleepless for the four nights since her daughter had failed to return home from school, sat in the deputy principal's office and begged to be told where her daughter was.
Sitting opposite her, almost knee to knee, the deputy principal insisted she didn't know.
In fact, she did. The 19-year-old had been sent to a refuge after complaining at school about trouble at home over her choice of boyfriend. Because "it was confidential information", the deputy principal felt she could not divulge it.
That decision tipped the distraught mother over the edge. She poured the petrol over herself. The mother of seven, her youngest only eight weeks old, said she had matches and would burn herself unless she was told where her missing daughter was.
Maribyrnong Secondary College deputy principal Meredith Clencie recoiled as drops of petrol splashed her skirt and shoes. As the smell of petrol filled the room, she looked at the oil column heater in the corner and wondered if it could ignite the fuel vapour.
The mother, 37-year-old Rajaa Abdul-Rasool, continued to shout, weep and call for her daughter. But she showed no sign of reaching for matches. She sat in the chair, petrol soaking her clothing and burning her skin.
Ms Clencie called for help. Within an hour, police and ambulance officers had strapped the weeping mother to a stretcher and taken her to the Footscray Police Station, where a doctor declared she was unfit for questioning — and suggested she might also be suffering post-natal depression.
For Ms Abdul-Rasool, the apparent disappearance of her daughter was another threatened loss in a life already deeply scarred by loss of family. Her father-in-law and five brothers-in-law had been kidnapped and murdered by Saddam Hussein's soldiers, and she had had to leave her parents behind when she escaped Iraq.
One constant in a life of dispossession had been her close bond with her daughter, Rafif. Fleeing Basra in 1986, she had carried the girl, then three, in her arms as she trekked across the snow-capped Zagros Mountains to a refugee camp in Iran.
Sixteen years on, she had been told she was safe in Australia. But in 2002, when her daughter vanished, Saddam was still in power and Ms Abdul-Rasool feared his agents might find her. Psychiatrists had diagnosed her with post-traumatic stress disorder — a condition that included insomnia and perpetual anxiety.
Rafif's unexplained disappearance was her worst nightmare. According to one psychiatrist, it awoke the trauma of the kidnappings and murders of her family in Iraq.
Her act of desperation cost Ms Abdul-Rasool dearly. Attending a police interview without a lawyer, she was charged with "reckless conduct endangering life" — an offence which can carry a penalty of up to 10 years' jail. She was also charged with threatening to destroy property, although she denied having threatened to burn the school. The school's interpreter, who had been present throughout, backed her. A jury convicted her on both counts at her 2004 trial but a merciful County Court judge gave her a two-year good behaviour bond.
But should Rajaa Abdul-Rasool ever have been charged at all? Three judges of the Supreme Court of Appeal have now quashed Ms Abdul-Rasool's conviction, deciding that her actions did not place anyone at risk of death and declaring the County Court jury's verdict "unsafe" and "unsatisfactory."
Their verdict calls into question the police hours and court time spent on investigating, prosecuting, convicting and then restoring the innocence of a woman who, her lawyers say, should not have been charged.
In sentencing her, County Court Judge Nixon said Ms Clencie had genuinely believed she could not disclose Rafif's whereabouts. But with the benefit of hindsight, the situation may have been diffused if the mother had been told her daughter was safe.
According to Ms Abdul-Rasool's former solicitor, Peta Murphy, police could have used discretion, taken into account her client's tragic circumstances and troubled psychiatric history — and not charged her at all.
Could it have been that in the post-September 11 atmosphere, a Muslim woman was less likely to be treated compassionately? "Certainly Rajaa felt that," Ms Murphy said.
The recent Supreme Court of Appeal judgement, says Ms Murphy, vindicates her and former barrister (and now Supreme Court judge) Lex Lasry. Both had been arguing for years that their client had no case to answer.
The critical legal issue was whether Rajaa Abdul-Rasool's actions exposed another person to "an appreciable risk of death" — as opposed to "a mere possibility of that occurring". A forensic expert called by the Crown could not quantify the likelihood of petrol vapour in the room being ignited by the heater, producing a chain of events which could lead to a death. Ms Abdul-Rasool had made no attempt to use her matches. Therefore her conduct, the judge concluded, did not create an "appreciable" risk of death.
This final judgement has brought Rajaa Abdul-Rasool a sense of vindication, but no peace. Hugging her youngest son, now five, she sighs as she says that her daughter calls her from time to time. A year after her daughter left, she saw her — and the new baby born of the relationship that prompted her daughter's disappearance.
Meanwhile, Meredith Clencie, now working at another school, was shocked by the judgement. But she wishes Ms Abdul-Rasool well.
"She was always alone when she came to court — and I thought that was very sad."
Her act of desperation cost Ms Abdul-Rasool dearly. Attending a police interview without a lawyer, she was charged with "reckless conduct endangering life" — an offence which can carry a penalty of up to 10 years' jail. She was also charged with threatening to destroy property, although she denied having threatened to burn the school. The school's interpreter, who had been present throughout, backed her. A jury convicted her on both counts at her 2004 trial but a merciful County Court judge gave her a two-year good behaviour bond.
But should Rajaa Abdul-Rasool ever have been charged at all? Three judges of the Supreme Court of Appeal have now quashed Ms Abdul-Rasool's conviction, deciding that her actions did not place anyone at risk of death and declaring the County Court jury's verdict "unsafe" and "unsatisfactory."
Their verdict calls into question the police hours and court time spent on investigating, prosecuting, convicting and then restoring the innocence of a woman who, her lawyers say, should not have been charged.
In sentencing her, County Court Judge Nixon said Ms Clencie had genuinely believed she could not disclose Rafif's whereabouts. But with the benefit of hindsight, the situation may have been diffused if the mother had been told her daughter was safe.
According to Ms Abdul-Rasool's former solicitor, Peta Murphy, police could have used discretion, taken into account her client's tragic circumstances and troubled psychiatric history — and not charged her at all.
Could it have been that in the post-September 11 atmosphere, a Muslim woman was less likely to be treated compassionately? "Certainly Rajaa felt that," Ms Murphy said.
The recent Supreme Court of Appeal judgement, says Ms Murphy, vindicates her and former barrister (and now Supreme Court judge) Lex Lasry. Both had been arguing for years that their client had no case to answer.
The critical legal issue was whether Rajaa Abdul-Rasool's actions exposed another person to "an appreciable risk of death" — as opposed to "a mere possibility of that occurring". A forensic expert called by the Crown could not quantify the likelihood of petrol vapour in the room being ignited by the heater, producing a chain of events which could lead to a death. Ms Abdul-Rasool had made no attempt to use her matches. Therefore her conduct, the judge concluded, did not create an "appreciable" risk of death.
This final judgement has brought Rajaa Abdul-Rasool a sense of vindication, but no peace. Hugging her youngest son, now five, she sighs as she says that her daughter calls her from time to time. A year after her daughter left, she saw her — and the new baby born of the relationship that prompted her daughter's disappearance.
Meanwhile, Meredith Clencie, now working at another school, was shocked by the judgement. But she wishes Ms Abdul-Rasool well.
"She was always alone when she came to court — and I thought that was very sad."
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