Brave teen speaks out on migrant sex attack | UK | News

The Oxford teenager who was attacked in the city center on Valentine’s Day last year has spoken out about how the sexual assault affected her. His powerful words came as Iranian rapist Amin Abedi Mofrad, 35, was jailed at Oxford Crown Court yesterday.

The resilient teenager was unable to share her impact statement in person but shared it with GB News for publication. As Mofrad was taken to the cells he shouted “lie!” he shouted. But the youngster made sure he had the final say with his impact statement.

Rapist will face deportation after prison sentence, Home Office confirms

The Home Office confirmed to GB News last night that Mofrad would be referred for deportation following his imprisonment. This move serves as a small measure of justice for the young victim, who demonstrated incredible strength in the face of unimaginable trauma.

Full statement of the brave young sexual assault victim

“I’m having a hard time finding the words to start this. I went over in my mind what I could say and how I could explain something like this. Before I start, I want to say that it’s really hard to put shame aside and show vulnerability for strangers to hear, trying to capture the darkness I’ve been living in for the last 16 months since this happened.”

“There’s a kind of loneliness that goes beyond being alone in a room. The kind where you’re surrounded by people but stuck in a bubble. The world around you is moving but you can’t follow it. Where no one else can sit in your body and feel what it’s like to be you. It’s hard to express the depth of the darkness of this process, this pain and this constant struggle to move on. It’s something I had to face alone. It was mine to carry every memory, every night, every moment, and sometimes that’s not just what happened, but the aftermath that’s the hardest part.” silence

“February 14, 2024 was a day that I believe symbolizes love, connection and joy once a day. It now marks the day my life changed forever. I was a child who believed in good people. I believed in kindness, in the idea that if you treat the people around you with kindness, you will be rewarded for it. I never thought one night could change this much. It changed everything I know about myself.”

“My body has become something I no longer want to associate with, and my voice has become something I no longer want because it failed to protect me when I needed it the most. It’s like looking in the mirror and not being able to recognize the person looking back. Feeling like your body no longer belongs to you, as if it belongs to the memory of what happened instead. Not even wanting to be associated with yourself because you feel violated and disgusted rather than being yourself. Standing in front of the mirror and facing the reflection of that night is a pain I can’t bear. Avoidance means knowing that the past is etched into who I am.” I constantly remind and acknowledge that truth is a struggle I face every day.

‘It is difficult to get rid of the feeling of guilt’

“When he was finished, I was forced into a moment that never ended for me. He followed me. When he was done, he walked away, but I was forced to deal with the war. I was forced to carry a trauma that has invaded every aspect of my life. While he was able to walk out and return to his life with no consequences, mine feels torn apart.”

“When I went back to school, I carried with me that silence where everything was moving but I was stuck. My teachers were still giving homework. Homework still had deadlines and life went on. I was still trying to move on.”

“I thought if I told people the extent of the darkness that was slowly consuming me, they would see that moment in me, too. I believed that my anonymous corner of the internet would give me the comfort I needed to recover from what happened that night. I convinced myself that if I stayed quiet, if I stayed too short, if I carried it alone, it would disappear. But one thing I really learned was that it didn’t work that way.”

“I was just beginning to come to terms with what had happened as I was immersed in a system that was retelling my story. The police process became another layer of shame and confusion. It was something I was never prepared for. It could be a request for evidence or even a simple phone call reminding me that my life was reduced to interviews and court dates. Every call and text dragged me back to that night, I retreated and could not move forward.”

“What hurts the most right now is what my family is going through. I haven’t tried to put my pain behind me, but I almost let them pick up the pieces. It’s hard to let go of that feeling of guilt. The people who love me were so touched by what he decided to do and how I reacted to it. It’s something I deeply regret. Those who called me without knowing where I was, those who waited in hospital corridors with fear in their eyes, those who whispered prayers that I would never hear.”

“The hands that had once put a cast on my scraped knees were now holding back the trembling in mine. My father, who had once lifted me up onto his shoulders so I could see the world from above, now sat in a chair, staring at the ground, unable to fix what was broken inside. My mother, who had once brushed the knots out of my curly hair and kissed my forehead before bed, now sat silently praying that her child would not disappear completely. My sister, who had once begged me to play with her, The man who would sneak into my room to chat late at night, now he was watching his little sister fall apart.

‘People started avoiding me’

“The impact on my school life was huge. I fell so far behind, and to be honest, catching up never felt like a priority. I would sit in class because my mind was stuck somewhere else I couldn’t escape. There was no point. I let them down. I became someone I didn’t know. I became someone I didn’t want to be. I stopped caring about my future.”

“I lost friends. People started avoiding me. I could feel their eyes change when I walked into a room. They weren’t whispering, but I knew what they were thinking. I could hear it in the silence. I wasn’t the same anymore, and I was a reminder of something disturbing, something people didn’t want to acknowledge. After that night I changed, everything changed, and there were no words to explain why I was different because I was ashamed of what had happened, and instead of reaching out, I withdrew. I was ruined in the only way, it wasn’t intentional, I stopped caring, I didn’t have grades because I showed up.” I didn’t go out, I stayed away from my friends, every time I tried to go out I felt hit by another wave of sadness, maybe I deserved it.

“I didn’t know how to confront what was happening to me, so instead I turned to what felt like a way out, and that was drinking. If someone had told me as a kid that drinking would continue to exist in my life, I know I wouldn’t have believed it. Maybe I would have been offended, but that’s the reality I live with now. It felt like a quiet way to get lost. It was a way to blur things I didn’t know how to face. It started slowly, I would say. I was socializing to drink, but it turned into something darker. The pain I felt inside demanded drowning, and I truly believed that was the solution.” I believed.

“I believed that alcohol was the solution, that it could quiet the noise in my head, that it could numb the pain for a while. Honestly, it worked until it became what I lent itself to, and then it got much darker. It filled the gaps where sleep wouldn’t come and where I felt peace had already left me. I wasn’t drinking for fun, I was drinking to chase away the numbness. I thought getting to the bottom of the bottle was just getting past the pain. It had consumed me.”

‘I want to carry peace’

“This escape came at a cost. Inevitably, I began to change. I wasn’t the child I once was, full of light and laughter. That gradually faded, which meant my friendships began to change. Looking back, I know I became distant, untrustworthy, someone who seemed to spiral in many ways, and I think I did. I wasn’t the friend I once was and wanted to be. I was so consumed by everything I’d tried so hard to bury. The people you loved and cared about would be better off if they weren’t the broken version of you.”

“I know it wasn’t my fault, but knowing doesn’t make the pain go away. Knowing doesn’t erase the shame, the humiliation, the feeling of being forced to relive the worst moment of my life in front of strangers, having to talk about something so personal, so violating, so humiliating. It doesn’t erase the feeling of exposure. It’s the kind of thing you think of living away from your own world, but it’s my reality now.”

He said of the start of the hearing: “I sat in a chair and waited, carrying the weight of everything I had experienced and mustering up the courage just to be there. Just as I was about to go in, the hearing was suspended for reasons beyond my control. There was another moment when I felt out of control and my life was put on hold for another time.”

“When I was told I was being brave, but I wasn’t feeling brave. I felt weak and tired. That day was another reminder that this person still has influence over my life. Just by procrastinating, making decisions, and dragging things out. It feels like another act of control, and it hurts in a way that’s hard to explain.”

“I’m still stuck in the cycle of waiting, wondering, and reliving everything over and over in my head. I’m not letting the person who did this to me hold that power. I’m doing this for freedom. So that one day I can heal because, more than anything, I want to bring peace to a place that has been filled with so much darkness for so long.”

If you are touched by the subject of the above article, the gov.co.uk website encourages you to contact the 24/7 Rape and Sexual Abuse Support Line, a confidential emotional support and listening service for anyone aged 16 and over in England and Wales who has experienced sexual violence or abuse at some point in their life.

It’s completely free and available via phone and web chat 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.

Phone: 0808 500 2222 or visit: 247sexual abusesupport.org.uk