No recourse
I felt aggrieved and needing justice.
A friend encouraged me to report to the police. He had recently reported a sexual abuse suffered fifteen years ago: his case had been taken seriously and he discovered the high school teacher who had harmed him so deeply had died. For him, it proved healing not to worry anymore about others being in danger.
My case was similar to my friend’s, in that something happened to me many years ago. But I felt that my harassment carried additional challenges since it had taken place while I worked as a humanitarian worker.
Reporting the case to the police was out of the question, as it would have to be done in the country where the events took place, a country torn by war. Any legal action would involve the unfamiliar legislation of the European country in which my former employer had headquarters. The truth is, most incidents occurring in the field are hard to bring to justice, and although strong mechanisms should exist to prevent expatriate staff from harming or being harmed, they just don’t.
It seemed my only option was contacting the compliance office, so I did. But by doing so, I was left once again at the mercy of my employer which had failed to protect me in the past. And it failed to protect me again. An internal investigation was conducted but I wasn’t granted access to any specifics regarding the process, just the outcome: sexual harassment not substantiated.
The system turned me into a passive victim, and the compliance officer into a self-appointed investigator and judge.
Stripped of all sense of ownership or agency, I wished to read my files to gain some understanding of this painful episode. Allegedly, it’s only through the labour court — never a small affair in cases of mobbing or harassment — that I can have access to my complete dossier. I would have to sue the organisation for not having respected its obligation to protect my health as an employee. In what became a tedious and frustrating journey, I approached five different solicitors for legal advice — including one who stopped answering emails after asking me to sign a power of attorney. I contacted the first lawyer through an organisation supporting women, she was amazingly helpful and an invaluable guide in my legal quest but she could not take my case as it was not in her geographical jurisdiction. A second lawyer said he would write to the organisation, according to him, I had the right to have access to my files. At his request, I signed a document so he could represent me and then I waited. He disappeared. I don’t even know if he ever approached the organisation, he never wrote again or answered to my emails enquiring on the matter. The next lawyer I contacted was prohibitively expensive only to study the case. Then my following attempt ended with the mail from a legal bureau assistant saying “I will make enquiries with members of the team and will be in touch with you shortly”... another one who never got back to me. A last lawyer said it wasn’t her field of expertise.
All wasted efforts; I gave up on lawyers.
But I refused to desist completely on my quest for fairness. I reached out to the directorate of the organisation to better understand my rights, highlighting how these internal processes should give voice and agency to those who dare to speak. They referred me back to the compliance office and a new officer was assigned, this time to review not the case, but the previous process.
Back to square one. I now fight weariness while waiting for the compliance office to contact me again.
Is this really what a person goes through when dealing with a humanitarian organisation after suffering harassment, sexual abuse or rape?
