A national newspaper asks if I will go and see the mother of Misbah Rana, the schoolgirl previously known as Molly Campbell. How is she feeling separated from her daughter at Christmas? That sort of thing. Off I trudge through the snow, only figurative precipitation you understand, and it is a surprise when, after some careful pondering, she says yes. The ex-husband is not playing ball. Internet and phone contact has been cut off. She would like to talk.
Brought up in a tough area in Glasgow, Louise Campbell is a woman who has had a rough deal of the cards in many ways. A heart-rending split with an allegedly domineering husband, a daughter and two sons taking sides against her and fleeing to a far country, another painful split and health problems which have forced her to let her baby daughter be cared for by someone else. Yet when she gets good news from Pakistan about Molly, her spirits immediately rise. You then see the giggly, cheeky, caring mother she must have been before her world collapsed after beloved Molly was snatched last year.
With the schoolgirl only 12 years of age, it was nothing but a vicious, illegal snatch. I stress the point in case you should even think of quibbling over subsequent comments by her daughter and others. Even now, the enduring image of Louise is the trembling, whimpering, tear-stained mess that we saw at that first press conference after Molly vanished. The shock left her totally traumatised and she could hardly articulate ‘I miss her’, never mind analyse her feelings. There were low moments since then as highly-paid lawyers tussled, but there were moments of pure joy too. Especially when mother and daughter chatted endlessly on a webcam link or teased each other in text messages.The uncertainties, the ongoing battle with her ex-husband, the ups and downs have taken a wicked toll. Louise has endured moments of high anxiety, low spirits and even bewilderment. She had to seek help. Her subsequent relationship foundered acrimoniously, health problems emerged and she now has her 18-month child for only part of the week. Yet she is, like she has been since August 2006, when Molly went, driven by hope. Resolute and clear, she declares that Molly will return to her. The only bit Louise is not sure about is the date when that will happen.
Stopping by for another chat with her the other evening, I was struck that there are many other mothers, and I am sure fathers too, in the same awful position. The rates of international child abduction are shockingly high, we are told. The government’s Child Abduction Unit is responsible for registrations and communications in abductions cases to countries signed up to one of two international agreements. It says it deals with more than 500 children each year. About 10 a week. that is a pile of broken hearts.
In such cases, men are often the unthinking bullies bent on what they think is best for themselves. Although it is not only men that do the snatching. Reunite, the campaigning charity set up to help parents whose children have been abducted or who are involved in international custody disputes, has reported a rise in abductions by British women. These are mainly women who marry a foreign national and then take their children back to Britain when their marriage hits problems.
So many parents are left, despairing and broken, doomed to fraught months and years of expensive legal wars across continents to get even a fleeting glimpse on a webcam or just to hear their wee darlings on the telephone. It is a hellish situation to be in. It takes a special person to withstand the pressure of having their precious gift abducted. They have no choice, quite often. To them all, I wish as happy a Christmas as they can have at a distance. And an extra special wish for many more fantastic, tearful, heart-warming reunions in the new year.
