Latest news with #Halimi
Sydney Morning Herald
3 days ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
‘Excuse me. I've killed my wife': The ongoing menace of forced marriage in Australia
It's hard at first to make sense of the video. Filmed on a phone, it opens on a car clock: 12.56pm. In Arabic, the man filming says this video is evidence, though ultimately he doesn't need evidence because 'it's my life and I have my authority, whatever I do'. By now, he says, his wife should be awake and preparing food. Still filming, he gets out of the car and goes inside his Perth unit. He captures some dirty pots on the stove. 'No food, either,' he complains. Then he films his wife, lying on the bed, asleep. The man taking this video, on January 17, 2020, is Mohammad Ali Halimi, then 25. Halimi, an Afghani refugee, is working as an Uber driver and Halal-method chicken slaughterer. His sleeping wife is another Afghani refugee, Ruqia Haidari, 21, who had lived for six years in the Victorian regional hub of Shepparton, two hours north of Melbourne. Eight months before this video was taken, Haidari was excited about finishing year 12 and had plans to go to university. She dreamt of being a flight attendant. She told a friend that she didn't want to get married until she was 27 or 28 and only then to someone she 'really loved'. But her mother had other plans. 'Excuse me,' he said, after waiting patiently for the front desk officer. 'I've killed my wife.' Her mother, Sakina Muhammad Jan, pressured Haidari to marry Halimi against her will. When the couple flew to Perth to begin their married lives on November 20, 2019, Haidari found herself isolated and living with a virtual stranger with whom she did not want to be intimate. Halimi, meanwhile, was devastated that his wife was not behaving as he expected, and so he made the 'evidence' video as a complaint to Haidari's family. The next day, during a fight, Halimi took a 35-centimetre knife to her throat and sliced it twice, killing her in the kitchen. Her brother, Taqi Haidari, told police that Halimi then called him and said: 'If you are a man, come and get the dead body of your sister.' With blood on his hands and clothes, Halimi then walked into a police station. 'Excuse me,' he said, after waiting patiently for the front desk officer. 'I've killed my wife.' Halimi pleaded guilty to murder and was sentenced in 2021 to life imprisonment with a minimum 19-year parole period. Ruqia Haidari's tragic death put the Australian Federal Police in an interesting position. In August 2019, AFP officers had met with her in Shepparton after her school had notified them that she did not want to get married. They offered to talk to her mother but she refused, saying it would be unhelpful. But after Haidari's murder, the AFP – which had never had a successful prosecution of a forced-marriage case – raided Muhammad Jan's home in October 2020 and later charged her with causing a person to enter a forced marriage (their investigation also discovered Muhammad Jan had received a $14,000 dowry from Halimi). In an upcoming episode of the AFP's podcast Crime Interrupted, which was provided to Good Weekend, investigators explain that they thought a conviction against Muhammad Jan would set a precedent and deter others. It was also, says Detective Inspector Trevor Russell, 'an opportunity for Ruqia's voice to be heard'. But for many working on the forced-marriage problem, this was a low point. University of Wollongong criminologist Laura Vidal, who did her PhD on forced marriage, says the criminal justice system scapegoated one person within a complex dynamic. 'Nothing happened to the matchmaker, or the brothers, or the community or the 500 people who attended the wedding,' says Vidal. Loading Muhammad Jan was, like her daughter, a forced-marriage victim. At age 12 or 13, she married a fellow Afghani she'd never met. She gave birth to her first child in her early teens. She came to Australia as a refugee with four of her children in 2013 after the Taliban killed her husband. She was uneducated, spoke no English and heavily relied on Shepparton's Hazara community which, says Vidal, would have expected her, as a mother, to uphold her family's reputation and find a match for her unmarried daughter. Last year, in the Victorian County Court, Muhammad Jan was found guilty of causing a person to enter a forced marriage and sentenced to three years' jail with a one-year minimum. The court had heard how she developed serious depression after her daughter's murder and often dreamt of her calling out for help. At her sentencing, Muhammad Jan cried and told the judge, via an interpreter, that she'd done nothing wrong. Between 15 and 20 members of the Hazara community attended court that day, many also shouting and getting out of their seats. One collapsed and was taken away in an ambulance. 'It was the most dynamic scene I've ever seen in 11 years,' the AFP's detective senior constable Jacob Purcell told the podcast. The AFP had wanted Haidari's voice heard. But we'll never know what she would have said that day, watching her mother go to prison. For Vidal, the prosecution was proof that the criminalisation approach to force marriage had failed. 'We've got one prosecution in 12 years that was only possible because the victim died. Are we really happy with that?' She has studied various approaches to forced marriage globally and concluded that the best model is not our model – which she calls 'the victim-perpetrator binary' – it's understanding the cultural drivers and gender power dynamics of forced marriage, and working with families to shift behaviours. Danish experts are now setting up a trial of this approach at Life Without Barriers. Nesreen Bottriell, chief executive officer of the Australian Muslim Women's Centre for Human Rights, says the Muhammad Jan case has further damaged the relationship between Muslim communities and authorities. 'The community was shocked by this outcome. It's going to deter victim-survivors from seeking support for fear of their mother or family members being prosecuted.' Bottriell, whose organisation is one of the services victim-survivors can now use as an alternative to the AFP, says she feels authorities overly target the Muslim community on this issue and fail to consider other religions and communities. She says forced marriage is not religiously sanctioned by Islam. 'It's about power and control over women's decision-making.' Ben Moses, the AFP's acting commander for human exploitation, declined to directly respond to Bottriell's criticism. He says the AFP's focus isn't purely on prosecution, but also prevention through community education and giving victims choice. 'As we know, not everyone wants to engage in the criminal justice process and we acknowledge that.' Constable Taylah Potter, a Melbourne-based forced-marriage investigator, says in the past six months she's noticed a positive attitude shift, with more young people feeling empowered to discuss the issue with figures of authority. When I ask how she feels about her job, she says it's easy to get caught up in statistics and court outcomes, but then she'll help a 16-year-old at risk of forced marriage and 'it just completely changes the path of their life.' The joy of freedom Miriam serves me chocolate-covered pretzels, mini samosas and chai. She's wearing black pants, a smart, black short-sleeved top and lipstick. Her neat, one-bedroom rented unit is small, but it's hers. 'I never knew this concept, I don't know how to explain, just having basics, like having utensils, pots. And then when you move to a house, the bin schedule! Oh, my god, I hate that schedule. And cleaning. Proper cleaning, but with love.' Freedom for Miriam and Khadija is about choice. This rug, not that rug. Take this course, not that one. Go outside. Freedom. That's the upside of escaping forced marriage. The downside? It's that gaping hole left where a family once was. Miriam misses her beloved brother. Stealthily, she tracks him on social media. 'I'm trying to see if he would give any indication he wants me back in his life. If that's the case, I would take him in my arms.' Loading For Khadija, it's her sister, still overseas. Khadija is hopeful she'll not join the estimated 22 million people stuck in forced marriages globally. Recently, Khadija's been thinking about a moment before she left. Her father had brought two peaches. 'I think one of his love languages was definitely fruit,' she laughs. Khadija told him the peach was so sweet. The next day he brought a whole tray and said she could have as many as she liked. 'I just can't forget that. I'm like, 'How can you be such a good person and such a shitty person at the same time?' ' Meanwhile, Miriam is studying healthcare. She's got her flat, her licence, a job and a car. One day, she may even marry. 'I thought men were just heartless, cold, like, not giving any rights to women. Now that I'm outside I'm seeing my friends in their relationships, and it's different. It's caring, it's loving.' I ask about her big dreams for the future. She looks momentarily confused. 'This is what I was dreaming about. I'm there, right now.'
The Age
3 days ago
- The Age
‘Excuse me. I've killed my wife': The ongoing menace of forced marriage in Australia
It's hard at first to make sense of the video. Filmed on a phone, it opens on a car clock: 12.56pm. In Arabic, the man filming says this video is evidence, though ultimately he doesn't need evidence because 'it's my life and I have my authority, whatever I do'. By now, he says, his wife should be awake and preparing food. Still filming, he gets out of the car and goes inside his Perth unit. He captures some dirty pots on the stove. 'No food, either,' he complains. Then he films his wife, lying on the bed, asleep. The man taking this video, on January 17, 2020, is Mohammad Ali Halimi, then 25. Halimi, an Afghani refugee, is working as an Uber driver and Halal-method chicken slaughterer. His sleeping wife is another Afghani refugee, Ruqia Haidari, 21, who had lived for six years in the Victorian regional hub of Shepparton, two hours north of Melbourne. Eight months before this video was taken, Haidari was excited about finishing year 12 and had plans to go to university. She dreamt of being a flight attendant. She told a friend that she didn't want to get married until she was 27 or 28 and only then to someone she 'really loved'. But her mother had other plans. 'Excuse me,' he said, after waiting patiently for the front desk officer. 'I've killed my wife.' Her mother, Sakina Muhammad Jan, pressured Haidari to marry Halimi against her will. When the couple flew to Perth to begin their married lives on November 20, 2019, Haidari found herself isolated and living with a virtual stranger with whom she did not want to be intimate. Halimi, meanwhile, was devastated that his wife was not behaving as he expected, and so he made the 'evidence' video as a complaint to Haidari's family. The next day, during a fight, Halimi took a 35-centimetre knife to her throat and sliced it twice, killing her in the kitchen. Her brother, Taqi Haidari, told police that Halimi then called him and said: 'If you are a man, come and get the dead body of your sister.' With blood on his hands and clothes, Halimi then walked into a police station. 'Excuse me,' he said, after waiting patiently for the front desk officer. 'I've killed my wife.' Halimi pleaded guilty to murder and was sentenced in 2021 to life imprisonment with a minimum 19-year parole period. Ruqia Haidari's tragic death put the Australian Federal Police in an interesting position. In August 2019, AFP officers had met with her in Shepparton after her school had notified them that she did not want to get married. They offered to talk to her mother but she refused, saying it would be unhelpful. But after Haidari's murder, the AFP – which had never had a successful prosecution of a forced-marriage case – raided Muhammad Jan's home in October 2020 and later charged her with causing a person to enter a forced marriage (their investigation also discovered Muhammad Jan had received a $14,000 dowry from Halimi). In an upcoming episode of the AFP's podcast Crime Interrupted, which was provided to Good Weekend, investigators explain that they thought a conviction against Muhammad Jan would set a precedent and deter others. It was also, says Detective Inspector Trevor Russell, 'an opportunity for Ruqia's voice to be heard'. But for many working on the forced-marriage problem, this was a low point. University of Wollongong criminologist Laura Vidal, who did her PhD on forced marriage, says the criminal justice system scapegoated one person within a complex dynamic. 'Nothing happened to the matchmaker, or the brothers, or the community or the 500 people who attended the wedding,' says Vidal. Loading Muhammad Jan was, like her daughter, a forced-marriage victim. At age 12 or 13, she married a fellow Afghani she'd never met. She gave birth to her first child in her early teens. She came to Australia as a refugee with four of her children in 2013 after the Taliban killed her husband. She was uneducated, spoke no English and heavily relied on Shepparton's Hazara community which, says Vidal, would have expected her, as a mother, to uphold her family's reputation and find a match for her unmarried daughter. Last year, in the Victorian County Court, Muhammad Jan was found guilty of causing a person to enter a forced marriage and sentenced to three years' jail with a one-year minimum. The court had heard how she developed serious depression after her daughter's murder and often dreamt of her calling out for help. At her sentencing, Muhammad Jan cried and told the judge, via an interpreter, that she'd done nothing wrong. Between 15 and 20 members of the Hazara community attended court that day, many also shouting and getting out of their seats. One collapsed and was taken away in an ambulance. 'It was the most dynamic scene I've ever seen in 11 years,' the AFP's detective senior constable Jacob Purcell told the podcast. The AFP had wanted Haidari's voice heard. But we'll never know what she would have said that day, watching her mother go to prison. For Vidal, the prosecution was proof that the criminalisation approach to force marriage had failed. 'We've got one prosecution in 12 years that was only possible because the victim died. Are we really happy with that?' She has studied various approaches to forced marriage globally and concluded that the best model is not our model – which she calls 'the victim-perpetrator binary' – it's understanding the cultural drivers and gender power dynamics of forced marriage, and working with families to shift behaviours. Danish experts are now setting up a trial of this approach at Life Without Barriers. Nesreen Bottriell, chief executive officer of the Australian Muslim Women's Centre for Human Rights, says the Muhammad Jan case has further damaged the relationship between Muslim communities and authorities. 'The community was shocked by this outcome. It's going to deter victim-survivors from seeking support for fear of their mother or family members being prosecuted.' Bottriell, whose organisation is one of the services victim-survivors can now use as an alternative to the AFP, says she feels authorities overly target the Muslim community on this issue and fail to consider other religions and communities. She says forced marriage is not religiously sanctioned by Islam. 'It's about power and control over women's decision-making.' Ben Moses, the AFP's acting commander for human exploitation, declined to directly respond to Bottriell's criticism. He says the AFP's focus isn't purely on prosecution, but also prevention through community education and giving victims choice. 'As we know, not everyone wants to engage in the criminal justice process and we acknowledge that.' Constable Taylah Potter, a Melbourne-based forced-marriage investigator, says in the past six months she's noticed a positive attitude shift, with more young people feeling empowered to discuss the issue with figures of authority. When I ask how she feels about her job, she says it's easy to get caught up in statistics and court outcomes, but then she'll help a 16-year-old at risk of forced marriage and 'it just completely changes the path of their life.' The joy of freedom Miriam serves me chocolate-covered pretzels, mini samosas and chai. She's wearing black pants, a smart, black short-sleeved top and lipstick. Her neat, one-bedroom rented unit is small, but it's hers. 'I never knew this concept, I don't know how to explain, just having basics, like having utensils, pots. And then when you move to a house, the bin schedule! Oh, my god, I hate that schedule. And cleaning. Proper cleaning, but with love.' Freedom for Miriam and Khadija is about choice. This rug, not that rug. Take this course, not that one. Go outside. Freedom. That's the upside of escaping forced marriage. The downside? It's that gaping hole left where a family once was. Miriam misses her beloved brother. Stealthily, she tracks him on social media. 'I'm trying to see if he would give any indication he wants me back in his life. If that's the case, I would take him in my arms.' Loading For Khadija, it's her sister, still overseas. Khadija is hopeful she'll not join the estimated 22 million people stuck in forced marriages globally. Recently, Khadija's been thinking about a moment before she left. Her father had brought two peaches. 'I think one of his love languages was definitely fruit,' she laughs. Khadija told him the peach was so sweet. The next day he brought a whole tray and said she could have as many as she liked. 'I just can't forget that. I'm like, 'How can you be such a good person and such a shitty person at the same time?' ' Meanwhile, Miriam is studying healthcare. She's got her flat, her licence, a job and a car. One day, she may even marry. 'I thought men were just heartless, cold, like, not giving any rights to women. Now that I'm outside I'm seeing my friends in their relationships, and it's different. It's caring, it's loving.' I ask about her big dreams for the future. She looks momentarily confused. 'This is what I was dreaming about. I'm there, right now.'
Time of India
28-04-2025
- Politics
- Time of India
Immigrant candidates fight for a new vision of Canada in 2025 Election
A wave of immigrant candidates is reshaping the political landscape in the 2025 Canadian federal election, challenging perceptions of who can represent Canada and what it means to be Canadian. #Pahalgam Terrorist Attack India stares at a 'water bomb' threat as it freezes Indus Treaty India readies short, mid & long-term Indus River plans Shehbaz Sharif calls India's stand "worn-out narrative" Malalai Halimi was forced to leave school under the Taliban rule in Kabul, Afghanistan, shattering her family's dream and resulting in her seeking refuge in Canada. 'When I arrived home and I saw my mom coming, she was crying a lot,' she recalled. 'She(her mom) told me that she's not working anymore.'. 5 5 Next Stay Playback speed 1x Normal Back 0.25x 0.5x 1x Normal 1.5x 2x 5 5 / Skip Ads by Now, Halimi is determined to give back as the Liberal candidate for Dufferin-Caledon. "If I am, as an immigrant, right now running for a public office, there's opportunity in this country," she says Live Events Halimi is one of several immigrant candidates across the country vying for a seat in Monday's federal election. While all major federal parties have addressed immigration in their platforms, the issue has largely been overshadowed by other domestic issues and the hostile attitudes of the US government. A survey commissioned by the federal government in November 2024 revealed that 54 percent of respondents felt Canada was accepting too many immigrants . Although that number decreased when respondents were informed that Ottawa planned to reduce the number of newcomers in 2025. For José de Lima, the NDP candidate, cost-of-living concerns were a major driving force behind his decision to run for office in Cambridge. He arrived in Canada from Brazil with his mother in 2007 when he was just eight years old after escaping an abusive home and sought refuge in an emergency shelter in Canada. 'I understand what it's like to have to go to a food bank to get your basic necessities, and families right now having to make tough decisions. It's a challenge that every single person in this country is facing,' de Lima said. What the parties say on Immigration He added, 'The opportunities that allowed me to go from a shelter at nine years old to running for Parliament at 26 are the same kinds of things governments need to prioritize for all Canadians.' The Liberal Party plans to limit the number of temporary workers and international students to less than five percent of Canada's population by the end of 2027. It also aims to balance the annual intake of permanent residents to less than one percent of the population beyond 2027. The Conservative Party, in contrast, proposes linking immigration levels to the availability of housing, healthcare resources, and the job market. The NDP does not directly address immigration, Leader Jagmeet Singh has emphasized its importance for economic growth, stressing that immigration should align with the needs of the labor market. A major chunk of the Canadian population wants the authorities to reduce immigration in 2025 compared to 2024, with nearly three-quarters of respondents stating that immigration should be scaled back until housing becomes more affordable, according to a Nanos survey. The survey also stated that 64 percent of Canadians favored accepting fewer immigrants in 2025, while about 26 percent thought immigration should remain at current levels. The stories of Malalai Halimi and José de Lima share the personal and human side of this debate. Immigration remains a critical issue as Canada approaches its 2025 federal election in a few hours.
Winnipeg Free Press
27-04-2025
- Politics
- Winnipeg Free Press
‘Opportunity in this country': Immigrant MP candidates push for a new Canadian dream
When Malalai Halimi was a young girl living in Afghanistan, she went to school one day only to be sent right back home. The Taliban had barred women from studying, and she and her family were living in fear. 'When I arrived home and I saw my mom coming, she was crying a lot,' she recalled. 'She told me that she's not working anymore, too, because the Taliban took over Afghanistan.' Halimi said she never could have imagined having the opportunity to immigrate to Canada, much less become a candidate in a federal election all these years later. Halimi is just one of the immigrants across the country who are running for a seat in Monday's vote. She is the Liberal candidate for Dufferin-Caledon in Ontario, and said her lived experience would inform her work as a member of Parliament amid Canada's shifting policies and sentiments on immigration. 'It means so much, and I really want to help people,' Halimi said in an interview. 'I want to help and support women and mothers, children, everybody.' Although all major federal parties have touched on plans to address immigration, the issue has taken a back seat in this election with the U.S. trade war and annexation threats from President Donald Trump at the forefront. However, a November 2024 survey of 2,500 Canadians commissioned by the federal government found that 54 per cent believed too many immigrants are coming to the country. That figure dropped when respondents were told that Ottawa planned to admit fewer newcomers in 2025, in a sharp shift on immigration levels. Among those who still felt that Canada is accepting 'too many' immigrants, the housing crisis and economic worries were listed among the main reasons. Cost-of-living concerns are partly what motivated Jose de Lima to throw his hat in the ring to represent Cambridge, a southern Ontario riding. The NDP candidate said his immigration story reflects the challenges that Canadians face every day. De Lima said he came to Canada from Brazil with his mother in 2007, when he was eight years old. The two eventually left an abusive household and spent time in an emergency shelter, he recalled, all while trying to adjust. 'I understand what it's like to have to go to a food bank to get your basic necessities, and families right now having to make tough decisions. It's challenges that every single person in this country is facing,' de Lima said. 'Many of the things that gave me life and hope and an opportunity to thrive and go from an emergency shelter at the age of nine to running for Parliament at the age of 26 — it's things that all governments and all levels of government need to be focusing on.' The Canadian Press also reached out to the Conservative Party of Canada and several of its candidates for this story but did not receive responses. For Arielle Kayabaga, Liberal candidate and incumbent for London West in Ontario, ensuring newcomers feel welcomed in Canada is a top priority. 'I think that people choose Canada because they know that we are a welcoming country, a competitive and good country to contribute to economically and grow your family,' said Kayabaga, who was given a position in Prime Minister Mark Carney's cabinet before the election was called. Kayabaga and her family came to Canada in 2002 as refugees fleeing the Burundian civil war. Kayabaga said it was challenging at first to 'start from scratch,' but the francophone community made them feel at home. Having resources such as settlement services and social housing is what makes a true difference, she said, and it's one way the next government can support newcomers. 'Canada once fought for me, so I'm always very ready and prepared to fight for Canada,' said Kayabaga. The Liberal platform promises to cap the number of temporary workers and international students to less than five per cent of Canada's population by the end of 2027. It also vows to stabilize permanent resident admissions at less than one per cent of the population annually beyond 2027. The Conservatives, meanwhile, are promising to tie immigration levels to available housing, health-care resources and the job market. While the NDP platform doesn't mention immigration, Leader Jagmeet Singh said it is essential to growing the economy but must be kept in line with what the labour market needs. During Elections Get campaign news, insight, analysis and commentary delivered to your inbox during Canada's 2025 election. Halimi said that although she has personally experienced anti-immigration attitudes — even while door knocking during her campaign — she won't stop standing up for Canada's multiculturalism. This election could be a turning point for newcomers, she said, regardless of its outcome. 'If I am, as an immigrant, right now running for a public office, there's opportunity in this country.' — With files from David Baxter in Ottawa. This report by The Canadian Press was first published April 27, 2025.
CairoScene
08-03-2025
- Entertainment
- CairoScene
Acidusa Honours Feminist Icon Gisèle Halimi With Acid Techno Release
The track, titled 'Gisèle', aims to deconstruct and reinvent the codes of post-modern feminism. Mar 08, 2025 Acidusa, a Paris-based DJ/producer duo that has been making noise across Europe with their inexhaustible energy and bold exploration of their Algerian cultural roots, has just unveiled a riotous double-single titled 'Gisèle', dedicated to the late renowned Tunisian-French lawyer and feminist icon Gisèle Halimi. A two-timed sonic diptych, assembling ticker tape bleeps, acid-licked basslines and hardcore techno, the track is based on one of Halimi's interviews, where she shares key moments of everyday sexism that led her to dedicate her life to defending women's rights. With this double-single, the duo aims to deconstruct and reinvent the codes of post-modern feminism. Acidusa · Gisèle Part 1 & 2
