THE SHAFIA HONOR MURDERS (part 1)
This is a very long article for you to read in three parts but as you read them, you will be fascinated as to how and why three members of a Muslim family murdered four of their own family members. I got the information from a past edition of Mcleans Magazine that had written a very large article about the murders and from other sources. I have written my own version of the events with the Maclean`s article and other sources as a guide.
An honor killing also known as a shame killing is
the murder of a member of a family
which is due to the perpetrators' belief
that the victim has brought shame or dishonor upon the family, or has
violated the principles of a community or a religion. These murders are usually
committed for reasons such as refusing to enter an arranged marriage, being in a relationship that is
disapproved by their family, having sex
outside of marriage, becoming the victim of rape, dressing in ways which are deemed to be inappropriate, by
engaging in non-heterosexual relations, or renouncing the family’s faith. This horrible practice is
generally done by Muslim families. In other words, the families prefer to
execute their own family members. Needless to say, this insidious crime is
against the law.
In May 2011, I published an
extremely gruesome article in my blog titled, The stoning of Soraya M and other such victims. It is a true story
that took place in Iran. Previously, I watch the TV documentary of her being
stoned to death after she was buried in the ground up to her neck.
In the year 2000, the United Nations estimated that there
were 5,000 honor killings every year. That number might logical for Pakistan
alone, but worldwide, the numbers are much greater. In 2002 and again in 2004,
the U.N. brought in a resolution to end honor killings and other honor-related
crimes. In 2004, at a meeting in The Hague about the rising tide of honor
killings in Europe, law enforcement officers from the U.K. announced plans to
begin reopening old cases to see if certain murders were indeed, honor murders. The number of honor
killings is routinely underestimated, and most estimates are little more than
guesses that vary widely. Definitive or reliable worldwide estimates of honor
killing incidence unfortunately do not exist.
India
and Pakistan are where a large proportion of all honor killings happen. Using
the U.N.’s estimate that 5,000 honor killings occur worldwide each year, the
international Honour Based Violence
Awareness Network says that around one-fifth of all such murders take place
in India, while another fifth occur in Pakistan. Both countries are aware of
the problem. In October, the Pakistani government closed a loophole that
allowed the perpetrator of an honor killing to go free if the victim’s
family—who may have sanctioned the killing—forgives the murderer after
receiving a large sum of money from the murderer. The law still allows the family to save the
killer from the death penalty awarded by the court.
In India, police historically
recorded honor killings—assuming they were reported—as regular homicides. As a
result, the Indian government had no indication of how many honor killings were
committed each year, though it knew the problem was significant. In 2014, in an
attempt to combat this problem, officials ordered police to list honor killings
as a distinct category of murder. Despite this new law, the numbers suggest that
the Indian police are still miscategorizing or overlooking hundreds of such deaths.
After the government’s edict, Indian police recorded 251 honor killings in
2015, up from 28 in 2014. But even the 251 figure falls far short of the annual
estimate of about 1,000 honor killings in India each year.
Although the overwhelming majority of honor killings
worldwide occur within Muslim communities, one would not know this by
reading the mainstream media. Fearful of being labeled
"Islamophobic," the American press has given only glancing attention
to the widespread, honor-related ritual murder of Muslim women in the Middle
East and South Asia while treating periodic honor killings among Muslim
immigrants in the West as ordinary domestic abuse cases.
Over the last few years, however, the media has published a
flurry of articles about Hindu honor killings in India, the only
non-Muslim-majority country where these murders are still
rampant. Apologists for Muslim culture and civilization rushed to herald
the upsurge in Hindu (and Sikh) honor killings as evidence that the practice is
a universal problem, not just an Islamic issue.
While India is indeed a striking exception to Islam's near
monopoly on contemporary honour killings, a statistical survey showed that
Hindu honour killings in India to be different in form and commission from
those of Muslims in neighboring Pakistan. Though no less gruesome, the Hindu
honour killings seem largely confined to the north of India and are perpetuated
by sociocultural factors largely specific to India. The millions of Indian
Hindus who have immigrated to the West with rare exceptions; do not bring the
practice of honour murders along with them. Some of those people who commit
honour killings come from Afghanistan.
Now I am going to tell you
about a family who came to Canada from Afghanistan in which three of them were
the criminals who murdered four of their family members in an honour killing. Most
of what I have included in these two articles were downloaded from Maclean’s
Magazine with and other sources with some of my own commentary included. And
now, the gory tale of abuse and murder of four female family members by their
father, mother and older brother.
The family
By Western
standards, Mohammad Shafia (the father) is not an educated man. He was born in
middle-class Kabul in the early 1950s,; he didn’t reach the seventh grade. But
as an entrepreneur, he was gifted and ambitious and also a stingy deal-maker
who turned a small electronics shop into a multi-million-dollar import-export
operation. His specialties were Panasonic radios and Peacock brand thermoses,
shipped in from Japan. “It was only me,” Shafia later told his jury, his pride
still evident in his raspy voice. “I had the monopoly on importing those items.”
Like many in
Afghanistan, this man‘s first marriage was an arranged one. It was his mother
who first spotted young Rona Amir—the pretty daughter of a retired army
colonel. Rona later wrote in her native Dari language, “Shafia‘s mother invited
all of us to her house so that her son could have a good look at me. After our
visit, her son announced his consent.” When one of Rona’s brothers asked if she
“accepted” the union, her answer was eerily prescient: “Give me away in
marriage if he is a good man; don’t if he is not.” She soon found out that her
husband was not a good man.
They were
married in February 1979, with a swank reception at Kabul’s Intercontinental
Hotel. The bride wore a frilly dress, baby blue, with a matching veil. The
groom sported a purple suit and long sideburns. In one wedding snapshot, Rona
and Shafia are smiling beside their cake, three layers covered in pink and
yellow icing. “After getting married,” Rona would later write, “my lot in life
began a downward spiral.”
Unfortunately,
Rona was unable to conceive. For years, she and Shafia tried to have children,
even travelling to India for repeated fertility treatments. Nothing worked.
“My husband
started picking on me,” she wrote. “He wouldn’t allow me to go visit my mother
(in Afghanistan), and at home he would find fault with my cooking and serving
meals, and he would find excuses to harass me.” Finally, after nearly a decade
without a baby, she told Shafia: “Go and take another wife, what can I do?” She
told her husband, “Children are important to us and I want you to find another
woman to marry.” He found another woman to
marry.
Rona encouraged Mohammad to marry
Tooba, who later bore him seven children. Shafia’s new bride was Tooba
Mohammad Yahya who was 17 years old and a relative of one of Shafia‘s friends
in Canada. Shafia was double her age—old enough to be her father. Shafia later said
that it was Rona who handpicked his second bride, and Rona happily planned the
reception which was held at the same posh hotel when she and Shafia celebrated their
wedding party.
Rona’s
recollection was somewhat different. “I was visited with a new catastrophe.”
Tooba wasn’t exactly thrilled, either. On the day of Rona’s arrest, while
sitting in the back of a police car, an officer asked if she loved her husband.
“I was not in love,” she answered, in between sobs. “But I fell in love with
him after we got married.”
They were not
a family of three for very long. Within weeks of the wedding, Tooba was
pregnant with Zainab, the baby her new husband so badly wanted. In September
1989, Shafia held his tiny daughter for the first time, cradling her in the
same hands that, years later, would take her life.
At home, Rona played the obligatory role of surrogate mother
by helping Tooba care for the baby and tend to chores while still praying for a
child of her own. Yet even then, in the early months of their polygamy, Rona
realized what was happening. Tooba, fertile and conniving, had “schemed to
gradually separate” her from their shared spouse. “After the son, of Shafia and
Tooba— Hamed was born,” Rona wrote, “happiness left me.”
In a diary dripping with heartache, Tooba’s daughter, Sahar was
born in October 1991. In a rare moment of joy, Tooba gave her baby girl to her
barren fellow wife to raise as her own. That certainly was a kind thin g to do.
But it wasn’t long before Tooba made another
announcement. “Shafie (that was what she called Shafia) should
stay three nights with me and one night with Rona. She said that because she
had given her own daughter, Sahar to Rona who was agreeable to the arrangement.
Soon after, Shafia stopped sleeping with his first wife Rona altogether.
The family moved to Canada, where
the two oldest daughters, Zainab and Sahar, grew increasingly Westernized.
There were fights in the home over everything from boys to clothes and both
girls were reportedly beaten by their father and brother.
On paper, at least, Mohammad Shafia was the ideal
immigrant investor, anxious to funnel his fortune into Quebec’s economy. Within
months of his arrival, he bought a $2-million strip mall in Laval (most of it
in cash) and launched an import-export firm that dealt in clothing, household
goods and construction material. He settled on the upscale suburb of Brossard to
build his $900,000 mansion, with plenty of space for all ten members of his
clan: himself, two wives, and seven kids.
While waiting for the home to be finished, the
Shafias spent two years squished into a rental home in the borough of
Saint-Leonard, split between four bedrooms and two bathrooms. They didn’t even
bother to unpack most of the furniture from Dubai; instead of beds, the
children slept on brown mats spread out on the floor. It looked hardly the home
of a globe-trotting businessman.
What happened between those walls, from June 2007
to June 2009, was the subject of so much conflicting testimony that not even
the dead know the full truth. But according to the prosecution’s narrative,
gleaned through dozens of witnesses, that brick fourplex on Rue Bonnivet was a
virtual prison, a remnant of 14th-century Afghanistan smack in the middle of
cosmopolitan Montreal. Although Shafia had moved his daughters to the freest of
countries (and given them endless money to eat fast food and buy expensive
clothes) he expected them to uphold his twisted sense of honour. To this freak,
just talking to a strange boy was enough to destroy the family’s reputation.
By the fall of 2007, six months after everyone else arrived, Rona
was finally on her way to Canada. She arrived on a temporary visitor visa, her
husband’s supposed “cousin” and live-in nanny. Friends and relatives knew that
Rona was Shafia‘s first wife, but until she drowned, the government had no
idea.
The abuse begins
Rona was greeted by the same old Tooba. “Your life is in my
hands,” she would say, according to Rona’s diary. “You are my servant.” Rona
moved into a bedroom with Geeti and Sahar, their sleeping mats side by side on
the floor.
Hamed
slept in another bedroom, as did Zainab and her younger sister. The youngest,
slept with her mom and dad in the master suite. Most nights, though, it was
just Tooba and the child, as Shafia spent much more time in Dubai than he ever
did in Montreal. During those two years before his arrest, he was in Canada for
a total of only six months. And during those many overseas business trips,
Hamed was left to enforce the house rules as his father’s eyes, ears, and
fists.
Zainab, though older, knew full well not to cross her kid
brother. They were attending the same Montreal school in February 2008 when a
Pakistani classmate sent her a Valentine. She responded with a covert email.
“Be aware of my bro,” Zainab wrote. “If my bro is around act like a complete
stranger. We’ll talk if my bro is not
around coz i don’t want to give him the
slightest idea that we are friends.”
Finally, Zainab who was sick of
the abuse and fled to a women’s shelter and began making plans to marry her
boyfriend. Shafia and Tooba coaxed her
home by promising to allow the wedding.
Ammar Wahid (the male classmate) stuck to the ploy, but it
didn’t last long. Barely a month after that email, while both her parents were
visiting Dubai, Zainab invited her new boyfriend to the house, unaware that
Hamed was on his way there, too. He found Wahid hiding in the garage, shook his
hand, and asked him to leave. Zainab-18 years old-never returned to that
school, and for the next 10 months she was essentially banished to her room.
She didn’t go to school, and couldn’t leave the house without a relative at her
side. I should point out that is a common practice in Islamic countries.
However, Canada is not an Islamic country.
Sahar was trapped in her own silent hell. She was 16, still
adjusting to life in Canada, when her mother accused her of kissing a boy.
Tooba even stormed into the school and cornered one of Sahar’s teachers. (Her
little sister, “A,” acted as their mom’s translator.) “She was very angry,”
said the teacher, Claudia Deslauriers. “She said she did not accept her
daughter kissing a boy, and that it did not fall within the parameters of her
values.”
Depressed and suicidal, Sahar peeled open one of those white
silica gel packets from a shoebox and mixed it with water. Rona and Geeti were
hysterical, rushing to Sahar’s side after she drank it. But as Rona recalled in
her diary, Tooba didn’t budge from the kitchen: “She can go to hell. Let her
kill herself.”
The authorities become involved
Batshaw,
Quebec’s anglophone child welfare agency, received a call on May 7, 2008. Red
with tears, Sahar was sitting in her vice-principal’s office, spilling
everything. Hamed flinging a pair of scissors at her hand. The suicide attempt.
Pressure to wear the hijab. “A” the spy. Sahar said her mother had barely
talked to her in months, and had ordered the other kids to ignore her, also.
Evelyn
Benayoun, a Batshaw intake worker, was on the other end of the phone. “When I
initially asked what she wanted, she said: ‘I want my mother to speak to me,’ ”
Benayoun said. “She said she was wishing to die that day, but didn’t know how
to kill herself.”
The
veteran social worker classified the call as a “Code 1,” immediately
dispatching a colleague. But when Jeanne Rowe arrived at Antoine-de-St.-Exupery
high school, she encountered a very different Sahar. Though still sobbing, she
denied everything. “Before I could even meet with her properly, she kept
saying: ‘I don’t want you to meet with my parents. I want to go home,’ ” Rowe
said. “She was very, very scared of her parents knowing about the report. She
didn’t explain why.”
Following
protocol, Rowe did phone the house. Tooba arrived at school first, Zainab in
tow. She refuted everything, including the suicide story. (Zainab-under house
arrest for her own defiance-agreed with her mom, but she did tell the worker
that Sahar was “sad” about having to wear the hijab.) Shafia walked in a few
minutes later, Hamed at his side. “He was quite angry, and he wanted to know
the source of the report,” Rowe said. “I told him I could not give him the
source, and he said he would speak to his lawyer because the report was nothing
but lies.”
Two
days later, when Rowe returned to the school for a follow-up visit, Sahar was
wearing a hijab. “There were no tears, but she was still very cautious and
minimized the situation,” Rowe recalled. “You have to make an assessment if the
child is at risk. The child was not at risk at the time, she wanted to go home,
so we closed the case.”
At
home, though, nothing changed. Rona spent her days wandering through parks and
using pay phones to confide in relatives overseas. “She would go outside and
cry,” said Diba Masoomi, her sister. “She was saying: ‘I am fed up with my life
and I want God to finish my life. I want to be in an accident.’ “
Life in Dubai
It
was in Dubai that Shafia‘s kids tasted Western culture for the first time.
Although the UAE is an Islamic country, the children attended a private
American school, where they wore uniforms, learned to speak English, and met
kids from around the world.
For
Rona, though, the move from Dubai left her more marginalized than ever. She
wrote about Tooba learning to drive, buying as much gold jewellery as she
pleased, and implementing “all the schemes she had” to position herself as the
preferred wife. “Not aggressively, through shouting and quarrelling, but gently
and smoothly, without putting herself at risk of any censure,” Rona recalled.
“Miserable me who wouldn’t question Shafie in regard to anything swallowed
everything without a word, because I had no option.” (While in Dubai, Tooba
gave birth for the final time. “C,” now in foster care, is subject to the same
publication ban as her siblings.)
Although the Shafias stayed in Dubai for more than a decade,
they spent much of that time searching for a new home, a place that could offer
them citizenship, not just residency. At one point, the family tried to
immigrate to New Zealand, but Rona didn’t pass the required medical. They even
spent a brief period in Australia, only to return to Dubai within a year. Tooba
said she and the children didn’t like Australia, but Rona claimed they were
deported because her husband-“the silly fool”-ignored the rules of his visa and
purchased property. Whatever the reason, Rona felt the brunt of her husband’s
wrath. “Whatever I did, if I sat down, if I got up, if I ate anything, there
was blame and censure attached to it,” she wrote. “In short, he had made life a
torture for me.”
The abuse continues in Montreal, Canada.
Zainab
“ran away” on Friday, April 17, 2009, taking refuge at a women’s shelter. For
Shafia, it was a monstrous betrayal. His adult daughter was out in the world,
unsupervised, unrestrained. She could be having sex. And even if she wasn’t,
people would think that, which is just as bad.
Her
courage, her thirst for freedom, is what got her killed just 10 weeks later. But
what began as a conspiracy to punish her, and only her, quickly spiralled into
mass murder. One bad apple became two bad apples. Two became three. And three
became four.
The authorities are contacted
by the children
The
day Zainab left, news of her disappearance trickled back to her teenaged
siblings at school. The four of them (Sahar, Geeti, “A,” and “B”) were so
terrified of their father’s reaction that instead of going home, they went to a
stranger’s house and asked him to phone the police. Add in Hamed’s attempts,
and it was the third 911 call of the afternoon linked to the Shafias’ address.
Ann-Marie
Choquette was one of the Montreal constables who responded to the scene. She
and her partner found the kids standing on a street corner, still too afraid to
go home, and escorted them the rest of the way. Outside the house, Choquette
interviewed each of them, alone.
Geeti
told the officers about the mall incident the week before, how dad pulled her
hair and Hamed punched her in the face. She also said, without hesitation, that
Shafia “often threatened that he was going to kill them.” (the other girls)
Choquette
noticed that “A” had “a mark near her right eye” and asked about the
injury.What “A” said has never been disclosed.
“B,”
her brother, told the officers that Hamed kicked him and that his dad
threatened to “tear him apart.”
Like
Geeti, Sahar said Hamed had slapped her, and that she watched as Shafia beat
Zainab because of her boyfriend. She and Geeti also said “they wanted to leave
the home because there was a lot of violence” and “they were afraid of their
father.”
The
kids were still outside when Shafia pulled into the driveway. According to
Choquette, he “just looked at the children” and they stopped talking. In tears,
“A” immediately recanted whatever it was she said, insisting it wasn’t true.
A
worker from DPJ, Quebec’s francophone child welfare agency, was also dispatched
to the house that night. (It was Batshaw,
the anglophone service that responded to Sahar’s original complaint the year
before.) The social worker spoke to Shafia, Tooba, and Hamed, but decided
it was safe to leave the kids and continue his investigation after the weekend.
Choquette thought there was ample evidence to lay a criminal charge, but
following standard protocol, she left that decision to DPJ.
Choquette
did see Shafia and Hamed again-that Sunday, at the police station. They were
anxious to know if she had any updates on Zainab’s whereabouts. She didn’t.
On
April 20, the Monday after Zainab left, the case file landed on the desk of
Laurie-Ann Lefebvre, a Montreal detective who worked the child abuse beat.
Accompanied by the DPJ worker, she visited the kids’ school and re-interviewed
three of the four (“B,” the brother, was absent that day). Although “A” continued
to recant, the other two did not back down. Geeti wanted “immediate placement”
in foster care because “she had no freedom,” while Sahar provided more details
about her abusive older brother. When their dad was away, she said, Hamed was
“the boss.”
Sahar
was wearing makeup and jewellery, and no hijab. “She explained that she would
change her clothes at school in the morning, and again before going home,”
Lefebvre said.
No
charges were laid. For reasons that remain unclear, DPJ also closed its file.
those two decisions were fatal for the four victims who were later murdered by
Shafia, his son and his second wife.
The
warning signs were everywhere. While Zainab was gone, Geeti didn’t go to school
for more than a week. Sahar did, but was often in tears, shielding the truth
about her sister by telling teachers and classmates she was in a coma. At the
end of April, their daughter still in hiding, Shafia and Tooba were summoned to
the school yet again, this time to discuss the kids’ slipping grades and poor attendance.
“The
father was really in a state,” said Nathalie Laramée, the assistant principal
who convened the meeting. “He was speaking very loudly in my office. ‘What can
we do? What can we do?’
Shafia
kept repeating the word “policia.” After mom and dad left the meeting, “B” told
Laramée that the cops did visit the house, but that things at home were
improving. When their brother left, though, Sahar and Geeti told a much
different story. “Sahar said: ‘My sister and myself are afraid in the house, and
we know that when we are in school we have to be careful because our behaviour
is reported back.”
The
children and Rona had eight weeks to live. They would be alive today if the
authorities paid more attention to what was really going on in the family home
and elsewhere.
In
Part two, I will tell you about the murders, the investigation, the trial and
the sentences given to the murderers.
The
murder plot
Zainab was still in the shelter when Rona overheard a
conversation so terrifying that she shared it with her sister in France. “I
will go to Afghanistan,” Shafia told Hamed and Tooba. “I will prepare the
documents, I will sell my property, and I will kill Zainab.”
What about the other one?”
“I will kill the other one, too,” he said.
Rona was sure that “the other one” was her. “She was shivering,”
her sister said. “She was afraid. I told her: ‘Don’t be afraid. This is not
Afghanistan. This is not Dubai. This is Canada. Nothing will happen.” How wrong could she be?
That was the time when Rona should
have taken the girls out of the house and taken them to as shelter. Alas, she
didn’t do that and that decision was what killed them.
In fact, Shafia, his second wife
Tooba and his son, Hamed were a horribly abusive trio who wreaked misery on the
girls in that family. In reality, those three evil creeps, Shafia his son Hamed
and his second wife, Tooba were making plans to kill her and her sisters and
their father`s first wife, Rona. When it was discovered that Sahar also had a
boyfriend, she was also added to the hit list. Rona and 13-year-old Geeti were
also included in the hit list since they could not be counted on to keep the
murders secret.
The second part of this lengthy article will follow on WEDNESDAY
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