06/01/2017
GOD GIVES EVERYONE A SECOND CHANCE.
“I Was Accused of Drug Smuggling … Vanessa Goosen”
Vanessa Goosen spent 16 years in a Thai jail after being accused of drug smuggling – but adjusting to freedom has been equally challenging.
In 1994, life changed just as radically for the then 21-year-old Miss South Africa semifinalist, Vanessa Goosen, as for the country. On the eve of the nation’s first democratic elections, the beauty queen was in her third month of pregnancy. She was flying home from a buying trip to Thailand, for her fledgling menswear business, when she was stopped at customs. After rifling through her bag, a Thai official removed two textbooks. “Be careful; they’re not mine,” she told him – her partner had asked her to transport them home for a friend of his. But as she watched wide-eyed, the officer slit open the book covers with a blade – and 1,7 kg of he**in came pouring out.
So began the nightmare that saw Vanessa stripped of her clothes, possessions, self-respect and, eventually, her sense of identity, as she began a life sentence in Lard Yao women’s prison, outside Bangkok. “It was so crowded; a filthy hell,” she says, the words thick in her throat. “You had to fight just for a space the size of the worn towels we used for beds, hoard whatever food you could scrounge together and shower with just three bowls of cold water from a trough in an open courtyard.”
Perhaps most painfully, she had to give up her baby. Delivered while Vanessa lay strapped in agony to the metal bars of a prison hospital bed, Felicia became her “one ray of light and hope.” But Thai authorities insisted: On her third birthday, the child would be sent to South Africa, where she was raised by Vanessa’s friend, Melanie Holmes. “My heart broke when I said goodbye …” Then, four years ago – after “16 years, six months and 16 days” in jail – Vanessa was unexpectedly pardoned by the Thai king, Bhumibol Adulyadej, and released. “I was ecstatic to be getting out, to have a second chance at life. But I was also terrified – I had no idea if I would cope.”
Tough Adjustments
As she arrived home in 2010, Vanessa found daily life overwhelming. The sights, sounds and smells of life outside the prison walls were an assault on her deprived senses. Travelling in cars or aeroplanes made her physically ill, as she was unused to the motion. “People here don’t smile as much as those in Thailand. At first, they seemed foreign to me, and I felt closer to those I knew in prison.”
Vanessa’s mother, Mina, looked old and frail as she waited quietly to welcome her daughter at OR Tambo airport. “She worried so much. And I blamed myself for that.” Vanessa’s friend, Melanie, was not there – she had died of a heart attack just three months earlier, leaving her husband, Hilton, to raise their own two young daughters and Felicia. Meanwhile, Felicia had grown from a doting toddler into a “beautiful teenager – when she threw herself into my arms, all I could do was hold her and cry.”
Vanessa settled into a section of Hilton’s home in Johannesburg, but soon, problems emerged. “It was difficult to reconnect with people,” she says. “I often asked myself, Is this my daughter? Felicia would call Melanie ‘Mom;’ I was ‘Vanessa’. I felt very protective of her, but when I tried to act like a mom, she’d say, ‘You’re treating me like I’m 3, and I’m not.’ I told her, ‘I love you – I don’t know how to be a mom, but I’ll try.’”
A Changed Person
Part of the problem, Vanessa thinks, lay in how she’d adjusted to prison life. “When you’re treated like dirt and watch women break down and die, you learn to fight and shout to survive. Felicia told me, ‘I thought you’d be soft-spoken and timid, but you’re loud.’” Hilton confirms this. He grew up with Vanessa, and when he began dating Melanie, they spent a lot of time together. “Vanessa was a carefree young woman – warm and very happy,” says the IT specialist. “She’s still a beautiful lady, but more serious and determined. She’s also caring and wise, and used her experience with depression in prison to help me with Melanie’s passing.”
Vanessa feels she still has a long way to go. “Prison habits die hard. Even now, I catch myself hoarding,” she says. “I’ll eat chocolate a block at a time and hide the rest in my bag, like a prison-food parcel.”
Different Direction
Vanessa’s new life seemed alien in almost every way. “The harsh prison lights were never switched off, and now I can’t sleep in the dark. A soft bed with clean sheets is heaven, but at first, I was so used to the floor that my body ached when I went to sleep. The greatest luxury is running a hot bath, closing the door and soaking in privacy. Like in prison, it’s the small things that mean the most.”
Vanessa has had a lot of catching up to do, even using a smartphone for the first time was “a huge learning curve.” She watches the news on TV and reads newspapers voraciously for a grasp on world events: “It’s almost impossible to have conversations with people if you don’t have shared references.” Going out is still a challenge: “Everything has changed, even buildings and streets. Traffic scares me – recently, I froze and became dizzy as I was crossing a road at the Waterfront, in Cape Town. A kind stranger had to lead me across.”
Helping Others
Soon after her return, the stress of adjustment triggered a panic attack – much like the one that hospitalised her in prison – and Vanessa was admitted to an ICU in Cape Town. She turned to GP, counsellor and pastor Dr. Marlin McKay.
“I told Vanessa, before you can take advantage of a new start, you need to acknowledge your feelings and fears and work through them,” he says. “She suffered severe abdominal pain, but medical checks showed nothing – it was a manifestation of her heartache. She is learning to be patient with herself. I like to say it doesn’t matter where you come from – it’s all about where you are going. It’s important to decide who you want to be and where you hope to be, before you can get there.”
The best way to do this, McKay says, is by unburdening and helping others. “It might be painful to relive the experience as she writes a book or gives public talks, but the pain will subside.” Vanessa agrees: “I’m 40 and learning to love myself again,” she says. “I want to study life coaching, and also work towards becoming a beautician. I want to use this opportunity to make other women feel good about themselves and love who they really are.”
Source. oprahmagazine.com
