Is It Rape When You Don’t Know How To Scream?

Rani’s Autumn

Look, Rani. Look at those pretty paper leaves. Tree rubber stamp. Flowers cut-outs. We’ll make a nice Autumn picture. You’ll see…

Rani is fiftyish, with a range of complex medical and social needs. Her care worker is not happy with my attention. Without it Rani sits with her head down whispering words in Urdu-like language. The care worker is free to write texts on her IPhone. Rani’s learning disability is profound. She depends on others to satisfy her basic needs such as toileting. Her finger follows a shiny pattern on her salwar kameez. The care worker presses ‘send’ and the message about her shitty job reaches Lithuania. Rani’s hand print transforms into a tree and I ask the care worker to help Rani to wash it off. Shall we have some tea, I ask, and a biscuit? No! No! She shouts looking straight at me. She loves her tea and biscuits. Rani lives with her husband and two grown up daughters. She is a victim of tradition, religion and rape.