The Women of Ill Repute. With your hosts, Wendy Mesley and Maureen Holloway.
So Wendy, we knew going into this podcast that not every episode was going to be a barrel of laughs, but- But this week is particularly challenging.
Yeah, we're gonna talk about- not a lot of chuckles here, we're going to talk about victimhood. I guess everyone's been a victim at some point of something. You and I are both victims, I guess you could say, and survivors of cancer. So we're going to talk about that.
We've also lost our jobs unfairly, me twice. And you know, more minor transgressions. Strictly speaking, though, a victim is somebody who's had something happen to them, who has suffered because of the actions of something or someone else.
Yeah, well I mean, that kind of goes through the- is it anals of history?
(Laughter)
I guess it's not anals.
Annals. But if you want to go through the anals of history, we can do that. It's going to be dark ride. Through the- yes, go on, through the annals of history.
Through the annals of history. I mean, women are victimized for all kinds of reasons. We're smaller. I mean, I'm terrified of going into underground parking. And my husband, like most men, do not understand that I'm terrified of underground parking.
But it is, it's- there's a biological imperative. We are smaller, we're less powerful. And- and because being taken, kidnapped, raped. That's something that every woman, no matter how old, through the annals of history has been afraid of. And that's- it's also a weapon of- it's now, I don't know, it's a weapon of war. And women can't retaliate.
Yeah, well, and we're going to talk about that, because we're going to be talking to someone who was kidnapped, she was- she was thrown in a hole. Anyway, she has gone on to tell the story of other victims, and kind of refused to be a victim herself. So it's kind of cool.
Our guest, if you're watching, you can see she's right here. Mellissa Fung, a journalist, a writer, and yes, spent five weeks in a hole in Afghanistan, and then was released and now has gone on to tell the story. I think we- we all know a little bit about this, about the women of Boko Haram, but not- we don't have- their story is not being told by anybody else.
Yeah, so she was- she was in a hole in the ground for five weeks, I think it was, Melissa? We can talk about that. We can talk about your book. But Melissa, she's- she's focused on human rights reporting. She has now made a documentary. She's written a book about the Boko Haram girls, hundreds of Nigerian girls who were like, basically stolen. They were children, as I said, like one of them was forced to marry and was raped by her- She was like 12 years old, she wasn't even menstruating yet. They were kidnapped by the terrorist group Boko Haram, taken into the forest, and forced to become child brides. Horrible.
The book is called Between Good and Evil. And though there's a lot more evil, Melissa, than there is good, till the end. So this sounds like an obvious question, but after everything had been through, I would think that you would either feel compelled to go and tell the story, or never go near it again. And you chose the former. Can you tell us about that, about why?
Hi, Wendy. Hi, Maureen. So nice for you guys to have me. Thank you. First of all, I love the podcast. You know, I listen to it all the time when I'm walking my dog. And it's just- I just love hearing you guys laughing and talking to your friends and other amazing, badass women. You know, so I'm really- I really feel honored to be, to be invited on.
Well, you're one of them. That's for sure.
I know. I think so. But to answer your question, Maureen, because that there was a question there.
There was.
I decided to go and talk to the, you know, I- we say victim, but the survivors, I like to call them, of Boko Haram because, you know, I felt like I was still suffering from PTSD from what happened to me. And I had access to sort of the best therapists, the best psychologists in the world when I came back from my experience, and I couldn't imagine these 1000s of girls in North Eastern Nigeria, a place where psychiatry is really, you know, a novel concept. I don't know how they would cope with the aftermath of such trauma. And so I wanted to know what I could learn from them about how they were dealing with their trauma, without all the help that I had, because I had- I saw so many psychiatrists, so many therapists and years later, I still struggle with post traumatic stress. Nightmares, and so that's- that was my motivation for trying to tell this story.
Whenever I'm doing something difficult, I used to think of Adrian- we, you and I used to work together a few years back at CBC before you went to Afghanistan, after you came back from Afghanistan. And I used to think of Adrienne Arsenault and think, Well, you know, she's up- been up for three or four days, and she's, like, carried off into the woods and does all these stories, but- but then, I don't know, I started thinking of, like, toughen up, bitch, like to myself. And I think of you, I think of you and how you managed to survive being being in that hole. So, and you did, and now you've told the story, and- but I guess I want to hear about that. But I don't want to make you relive all of that either. But what I remember mostly about when you came back, after having been kidnapped and thrown in the hole, and you know, you wanted to go back, you refused to be a victim. You- you said to CBC, let me go back, I just- I just want to go back, I want to keep telling this story. I don't want to be labeled as the victim. So what can you say about that? I don't think you like took a package from CBC, you just, you just left?
No, I know, I did it sort of- I did it wrong. Put it that way. I just quit. I quit. Because I- Well, there were a number of reasons that I needed to leave. And the main one, I think, was that I wasn't- I wasn't doing the stories that I wanted to do. I felt like I needed to go back to Afghanistan and finish telling the story that I was telling, when I was kidnapped. And that is the story of all the internally displaced, right, the- you know, the Afghans who had had to flee the fighting and set up all these camps all over the outskirts of Kabul, and all the girls, little girls there were not in school because they'd been displaced. And that was, I just so felt, strongly. And I guess it was guilt, that my own kidnapping had sort of taken over that story. I became the story, in place of a much more important story that needed to be told. And so I really felt like, I need to go back and finish that story. And not being able to do it ate away at me. Like it, you know, it made me angry. I kind of felt like I was labeled difficult, which I think I probably was, I don't know, Wendy, you might have heard things. But I think I probably was difficult because I was frustrated.
I don't think I ever heard that you were difficult. It was just that, what I did hear was that CBC was saying, she was kidnapped, she was tortured. We can't go through that again. And she's going to be marked by that. And we can't. So there was a little bit of this sort of corporate thing of, we can't wear it. We can't risk it. But I think it was also protective of you. I don't think they meant to be mean to you. But.
But that kind of- I mean, I can see a parallel between the Boko Haram girls going home and being shunned. With that. I mean, rather than deal with the fallout, it's like, Ooh, okay, we can say we're doing what's best, you know, for Mellissa, but in fact, what we're doing is what's best for us. Sorry, maybe not a popular viewpoint. But.
Uh no, maybe not. But I kind of felt that, right? It was a bit paternalistic, you know, at least talk to me. Right? About why you don't want me to go back, why you don't want me to do this. And then we can have a discussion, and then maybe I would have not been so angry. Because I just carried around a lot of anger, at not- at seeing other reporters go to Afghanistan and cover the election. Especially one reporter who I won't name. But it was really- if they had just talked to me every time I asked to go, and we had a conversation about why it wasn't a good idea corporately, I might have understood. Right? But just the blanket "no" was very hurtful to me.
Yeah, I don't think that anyone said this about you. I never heard this anyway. But it- but it just applies to so many women, the whole, "She's difficult." But it almost- with- not with you, but with women in general who are raped, or horrible things happen to them, there's this sort of narrative that gets established, which is, well, she kind of deserved it. She was- she had an extra drink, or she had a short skirt, or... and it's like it was her fault. Like...
I- Y'know, and that's such a good point Wendy, I'm so glad you said that, because I had also heard that I shouldn't have been at the refugee camp that long, but I stayed too long, and coming from male reporters who had been to Afghanistan, who had probably never covered that story, but judged that I shouldn't have been there. Right? That I was- I didn't know how dangerous it was. Well, none of us did. You know, I was the first Western journalist to be kidnapped in Afghanistan since- I think since the war began. So you know, I heard that from other people. Right? That I had stayed at the camp too long. I was there for 45 minutes!
Oh, it's 45 minutes too long, missy. But, but this is the narrative that we hear all the time. And it's not invalid, because I'm thinking of- even the people that we've talked to, Wendy, like Lynsey Addario, who's a Pulitzer Prize winning photographer, war photographer, and she, too, was kidnapped. And who was it Amanda Lin...
Lindhout?
Lindhout, yeah, who was also held in Somalia for- for, I think, over a year. And then there's another famous American- I hate describing women by their hair color, but blonde, foreign correspondent was, was raped in a packed town circle, and I can't remember her name. But anyway, the point is, the narrative continues that women should not put themselves in these positions, because like we said when we introduced you, we're just too damn vulnerable. And, yeah, it's paternalistic, but it's not entirely invalid. I throw that out to the floor. Discuss.
Melissa?
Wendy?
Yeah, I- but what are we supposed to do? Are we supposed to go back to the day when you and I started in this business, which was, you know, women's voices aren't authoritative enough. So just stay at home and do your, your Hillary Clinton baked cookies? You know, I don't want to get in trouble either.
Yeah, no, no, I'm- I'm not advocating that either. But it is- we are more vuln- There's no getting away from the fact that we as women are more vulnerable than men, particularly in a, in a war zone. And probably need more force or more protection. And that's just the way it is, it's- you know, there's- you can't really blame anyone or blame the system. It's- that's just the- that's just part of the baggage that, that female reporters and correspondents have to- have to shoulder.
I think Lynsey said this when she was talking to you: women need to be in conflict zones, because we can tell stories that men can't tell, or men wouldn't have the same- I don't want to say sensitivity. But when you're interviewing women who have been raped by Russian soldiers in Ukraine, or women who've been raped by Boko Haram, it's harder for a man to ask those questions, to do those stories, and to connect that way. In fact, in Afghanistan, women wouldn't talk to men about personal things, right? It's just- it's part of their culture. And so I think it's important that women keep doing this and finding ways to do it, whether that's having security with you 24/7, like we did in Nigeria, when I was there with the film crew, definitely. On my trips alone, I didn't, because I was bringing the girls out to talk to me, rather than going into- close to the forests. So I think we have to find ways to do it. Because if we, if women, aren't there telling those stories, I don't think we can leave it to the men to tell these stories.
The Women of Ill Repute.
So would your story have been told, Mellissa? I mean, I imagine that the fact that you had been kidnapped like they were kidnapped, they were stolen, many of the girls that you spoke to, and as Maureen says, they were shunned afterwards. What happened to you? Did that allow for like a stronger connection, because of what you had been through?
I think for sure. And I'm just actually writing about that now, which is not in the book. But the- my first meeting with them, I was very open about why I was there. That I'm hoping to learn from them how to cope with the aftermath of trauma. And as soon as they sort of found out, they started asking me questions that other people have never asked me, like, where did they keep you? Did they tie you up? You know, were you afraid of them? And those are questions that are hard for anybody to ask me, even now, right? But they were just so open about it. And I could be really honest. And it was sort of the first time anybody had asked me a question about my captivity, where I felt comfortable answering. It was more like a sharing. In the book, I visit them in a village where a bunch of women are now staying, and they are all former captives of Boko Haram. It's amazing. And they gather around and they talk about what happened to them, and they support each other and they comfort each other. And I think that my relationship with the girls was more about that than a journalist going to interview them and taking out their stories. It was more of a sharing. They wanted to know what Afghanistan was like, what the hole was like, what they fed me. So, you know, I was stabbed, right? And I still have the scars, and then I would show them- I showed them my scars, and- and one of the girls, Asmal, she had a similar scar on her right hand where her Boko Haram husband had- had stabbed her. And so she kept running her finger over my scar. And that was really kind of a moment where I thought, look at me, my life is so different from theirs. Right? Here I am, a much older Canadian journalist. And here are these young, Nigerian young women. And we share this huge thing. That's been a very- I wouldn't say cathartic, but it's been a really special gift, I think, for me to be able to speak freely. And I know that they would never judge, right? So. And I'm still very close to them to this day.
I'm sure it was cathartic in a lot of ways for them to see you as a successful Western journalist. But at the same time, it ca- it can happen to you. It's the same- well, shouldn't say fate, but the same experience that befell these helpless children in Africa happened to you. A similar experience. So that can be both reassuring and also terribly frightening. I want to ask you, what is their relationship with men now? Men in general?
it's hard, because they are now seen as being tainted by Boko Haram. And so if they want to try to find a husband, that's going to be hard for them. And their mothers all want them to get married off. And a couple of them have boyfriends. One of them actually got married and had a child when she came back to her village. And then the husband's mother said, you can't stay married to her, because she is Boko Haram wife. So they split up, and now she's got the child on her own. And she's back to living with her mother. So it's the cycle. And I don't know how to help them there. I just... I don't.
I find this whole victim thing, them refusing to be seen as victims, even though their entire village, sometimes even their family sees them as- as willing victims, perhaps? Or just victims who must be shunned, because that's what the religion says or, or whatever. But I remember when you were- when you came back, and you talked about being in the hole, and you were still kind of in charge, like you were still refusing to be of- you were in a frickin hole. And there were there were guys who were coming to see you. But you were still- you were still trying to stay in control, which is I guess what, what they're trying to do. Are you in control now? Has writing a book, has done this- this documentary? Are you- Has it helped?
I don't know. I think it's a- it's all a process. It's all part of a process. I felt like I was being defined as this former hostage for a very long time. And this is when I was still at the CBC too, right, that this happened to me, and I'm going to be identified by it for the rest of my life, probably. I think what I decided to do is embrace it, and say, this happened to me, it's- I've got the scars. It's part of who I am now. And so I do have this special kind of a superpower that I can talk to people like these, like Asmal, Gambo, and Zara, in a way that no other journalist can in the whole world. Well, maybe, you know, not- I'm not the only one, there are others, but-
The blonde reporter whose name I can't remember. But yeah, it's a fairly unique regret- regrettably, but unique perspective that you bring. I want to throw something out. I watched The Woman King, which is actually based on a true story of a 19th century female tribe in Africa. I can't remember exactly where. They were warriors. And they were hired to protect the king of their tribe. And I mean, obviously it's- it was made into a Hollywood movie, so a lot has been romanticized. But one of the- the true aspects of it was this, this tribe of women warriors could not marry, could not have families, could not have children. They had to devote themselves entirely to fighting. Because as soon as you put yourself in a maternal position, you are weak. And you know, as harsh as that may seem, it made sense, in a way, and so therefore to be a good warrior, or successful warrior, you have to put away feminine pursuits. And that resonated to a certain extent, I mean, in that culture, I could see that, but all the good things that make us female, the nurturing and the love and the compassion that we bring are also things that make us vulnerable. There's no question there.
They have birth control now, though.
Oh, that- yeah, I'll go after them with my packet of pills.
We only get pregnant when we want to get pregnant, and then the men- they wear like Baby Bjorn, and they they're with strollers and everything.
But this is all- this is all good. This is all a step in the right direction. Men should be more feel- Like, I don't think any of these Boko Haram guys are running around with Baby Bjorn on them. But these are steps in the right direction, where we sort of spread the- spread the love and spread the vulnerability. I'm sorry, I'm just- I'm just up on a soapbox here.
I just wonder now, like if you go on social media, which is very hard to ignore, try as- as we might. There are all of these people who are sort of embracing victimhood because they had a headache, or they had a varicose vein, or-
Oh, snowflakes. Yeah.
Yeah. It's just crazy. It's like it's super in to be- I'm a victim. Listen to my story. Doesn't it like make you crazy?
It does.
I mean, it's sort of the other side of the story, but it's like narcissism. It's ridiculous.
It is narcissistic, I think. Just get on with it, right? Like you have a varicose vein, get on- You know, it's not the end of the world.
I know. I know. Yeah, I know, once you've- once you've witnessed- and I think, Wendy, you and I went through this too, because once you've been told, you know, ca- given a cancer diagnosis, and in my case, and Wendy's too certainly very dire one- after that, it's like, you know what, I can handle anything. Now. Because I've looked at- I've looked at my own mortality, and as you put it, Melissa, it's a bit of a superpower, to have been down in the dark anals of history.
It's annals, Maureen. Annals.
I'm gonna say that now. I'm gonna keep saying anals. No, but you've been through it, right? You both stared death in the face. And, and I think, once you kind of accept that, that this could be it, which I had to in the hole. I didn't know if they were going to come and shoot me one day. I really didn't. So I was okay. Like, I kind of thought to myself, this is it. This is it. I made peace with myself, I guess. And then once you've done that, nothing really can bug you that much.
Can I ask you about your your husband? You're married to Paul, aren't you? Yes.
Yeah.
Paul Workman. CTV. He was a big deal. I worked with him 1000 years ago.
He is a big deal. But what I've been through what I've been through, whether wer- difficult childbirth, cancer, my husband, it was so hard on him. I don't know if he's ever recovered. And there's that, you know, there's- so I'm just wondering how- it's a personal question, but I'm throwing it- how's it been for you two in the wake of everything that you've experienced?
I think it's harder on me, because he's been going back and forth to Ukraine since last year.
Oh, God.
And so-
What is it with you two?
It's awful. And I'm- I totally admit, I'm terrible. Because I automatically go to the worst place. A situation comes up. Or he doesn't respond to a text. He's in a frigging war zone. And I'm, you know, where are you? Then I think he's been bombed. Right? Then I think he's been kidnapped. Because that's my automatic reaction. So the poor guy, not only does he have to cov- he's in the middle of ducking bombs, but he's gotta respond to my texts.
It's kind of a- it's a wonderful love story, actually. I mean, you you got together with him in Afghanistan, it's a beautiful love story. And then you got kidnapped, and he fought for you. And you- you- I noticed- what was the dedication? To Paul, who makes me believe that anything is possible. It's kinda- kind of lovely.
It is lovely.
Yeah. So tell us about, what- what has he made possible for you?
All of this. I couldn't have written the book without him. The support, he's my first reader, right? Like so I'll send him a chapter, and you know, he'll come back and say, oooh, didn't like it. Or, you know, like- and he's brutally honest, if he thinks that I could do better. And so I couldn't do any of this without him, to be honest.
Did you send him texts in the field and say, so what do you think of this? And he's like, I'm busy. There's bombs dropping.
I try not to bug him with this stuff when he's, you know, but just send me- let me know you're alive, right? Like, that's not asking for much. But you know, I've gone back to Afghanistan about seven times since coming out of the hole, and not a single time has he ever said to me, I'm gonna worry. Don't go, or, like why- do you really have to- he's never questioned any of these crazy assignments that I go on. And so I'm not- I'm not the same, right? Like, really? Do you have to go to Ukraine again? Do you really have to- I think I'm much more nervous about things. About him going on a crazy assignment, as opposed to, I don't think about it myself.
So can you laugh now, Mellissa? I know that you said that you were- you're thinking of taking up surfing again, when I told you that I love certain forms of surfing, I'm going to pretend that they're not ones that were invented 50 years ago. But can you laugh? Like, is there- is there light? And like, you seem- You seem okay. I mean, I can't imagine having survived what you've survived. But are- do you have chuckles?
There's- there's joy in your life, I would think.
There's joy in my life. You know, I think I have to work harder to find more of it. Because I think the last two years have been really hard on me. Afghanistan, falling back into the Taliban, and then trying to help women get out. You know, I was writing this book at the same time, I had to stop writing the book for a few months and focus on helping the women get out. And you know, as a result, I think I'm on blood pressure medication now. So the last couple of years between the book and Afghanistan, Nigeria and Afghanistan, I just feel like I've had to really work hard to look for joy. But I think Maureen, you'll appreciate this. Paul bought me a keyboard during the pandemic, and I started playing the piano again, terribly.
I do the- I do the same, just as bad, I'm sure, if not worse.
You're probably way better than me.
No, no, no, no, no. And you'll never know, because I can't play in front of anybody. But I play- but I do play for myself. And it is. It's incredibly therapeutic. It's almost like a transcendental meditation. Not that I can do that. But it can be- it's a wonderful thing to do. And I took it up- I took a piano right after I finished chemotherapy. I took a piano and golf, and I'm terrible at both. But you know, I do it anyway. It's not-
You're better than me, playing golf.
What about the girls? What about- they're women now, but they were girls when the- Boko Haram girls. Is there a possibility of them finding joy? I mean, it's a broad question. I mean, I tend to think education is the best possible way out. But that doesn't even seem available to them.
Doesn't- Boko Haram, doesn't that mean, like, western education is bad, Boko Haram? It's like- it's crazy.
And its name-
Is forbidden.
What- What of them? What- What possible hope do they have to find joy in their lives?
Do you know what, I tried to help them finish school. We found a private boarding school that took them, and after one semester, the principal said they're not keeping up. So they'll have to repeat. And then they really were not keeping up. So they were asked to leave the school. And so we found another boarding school in Yola, that agreed to take them and it was the same thing. I got them a private tutor, you know, outside of classes, get them up to speed and, and I think I just realized that school is not, it's past them, they should have been graduating from high school. So now I'm just trying to figure out what they want to do. And you know, Asmal has taken up sewing. And so you know, I'll get her sewing machine. Gambo wants to sell children's clothes in her village. So she'll go buy wholesale in the bigger cities and sell them in her village. Zara wants to open a little corner store. And we've seen them places like Africa and Asia, the little shop that sells SIM cards and bubble gum, and- and so hopefully I'll sell enough books to help her to do that. Because I'm really adamant that any royalties from the book go to help the girls because it's their story, right? It's not mine. So I set up an account where Kabir, who's my wonderful Nigerian journalist colleague, will help dole out the money for them as they need it, because this is the only thing I can do for them. Now, because school didn't work, school didn't work.
It's lovely to see you again, Mellissa. I'm hoping to see you soon. And thank you for doing this. And, and thank you for talking about the theme and not just about the book, because I think it just makes a lot of people think about a lot of- a lot of things, and your heart goes out to these- these women, and you are the person to tell this story. Well, they were girls when that happened to them. Now, I suppose they're women, but it's lovely.
But you're telling their story. And so on that note, the book is called Between Good and Evil, and it's out, and now you know where your money is going if you go buy a copy. Get the hardcover copy! Don't skimp.
Well, with the two of you, I don't- you know, I was pretty sure that would- that would happen at some point.
Thank you, Mellissa. And we managed to have a few laughs. Amazing. We're funny and we smell funny too. Thank you, Mellissa. Good luck with everything. You're- you're a remarkable, brave woman, you're not a victim.
Thank you so much for having me. It's been fun.
Talk to you soon.
Bye!
Bye.
Hey, well, that was fun. I mean, it didn't think it was gonna be fun. But it was fun.
Yeah, no, I used to work with her. And she's a really good friend, or has become a really good friend of my really good friend Louise Penney. So I- and it's so important. Like, she was like, thrown in a hole in, in Afghanistan. And now she's written this book about Boko Haram. It's- I don't know, I think he got to make an effort. And then you never know how it's gonna turn out. But she was great.
It's also daunting. I mean, I remember again, using the cancer comparison, and you've been through it as well, that people didn't want to- People don't want to talk to you about it. Because they don't know what to say. Anybody, or anybody who's had big tragedy, like, you know, if you've lost a child or whatever, people stay away from you, because they don't know what to say. And it becomes worse. And it's like, you got to rip the scab off. And- no, don't do that. You have to rip the bandage.
Yeah, rip the Band-Aid off. Don't- do not take Maureen's medical advice. No, I think it's- I think it's fascinating, and to hear her talk about how no one always makes the right decisions. Like when she left CBC, she didn't do it the right way. And she was made to feel guilty, and she did feel guilt. And did she handle it right? Anyway, it's just- I mean, it's just so- So human. And now, you know, she's still suffering from- from obviously, from what- like, I'd have- I'd have offed myself, I can't even imagine.
I don't know, Wendy. I don't know. You're braver than you say you are.
I don't know. It's hard to imagine ever being thrown in a hole. Like who can imagine it until it happens? But- but yeah, I'd forgotten that she was stabbed, too, I guess-
Yeah. Ugh.
Anyway.
But she said she finds joy. She's got a- she's got a good marriage. She's got great friends. She's got her creative out- and what she's doing for the- for these women, the Boko Haram girls, I think of them as girls because they're, you know, 20, is amazing. And obviously it's bringing her joy too. So that was- that was a- it was a pleasure talking to Mellissa Fung.
Yeah, and it was nice hearing her fight back about how women got to be there. Yeah, even if we get kidnapped, so yeah, anyway, it was lovely. I'm so glad that- that we did this, so thank you.
Yes, no, thank you!
Women of Ill Repute was written and produced by Maureen Holloway and Wendy Mesley. With help from the team at the Sound Off Media Company and producer Jet Belgraver.
