I never had the good fortune to cross paths with Dr. Ottilia Chareka, a fellow immigrant to Maritime Canada. And now, because of a senseless, violent act, I never will. She is dead, and the police say that her all-too-brief, amazing life was ended by a brutal attack at the hands of her husband. If the charges against him are true (and there is every reason to believe that they are) it means that one man – for reasons known only to himself – was able to snuff out her brilliant light. And we are all diminished by the loss.
In a 2005 documentary Dr. Chareka was quoted as saying: “There are so many reasons why I wanted to come to Canada. But I think the main one is that Canada is a country which is full of opportunities, and the sky is the limit.” And it was, until, police say, her husband brought her crashing down.
That brief film about this truly amazing woman can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SXHaWpbvVrY.
A long, brave journey. Dr. Chareka was born in Zimbabwe. She was born in poverty and fought hard to pursue an education. She had to pay for her schooling herself because her father did not support the idea of girls going to school. Her grandmother never attended school. Her mother was only able to attend school through grade 3. Despite all the forces working against her, Ottilia Chareka became the first girl in her clan to complete high school.
After becoming a teacher in Zimbabwe, she immigrated to Canada, where she found that she had to start over. She discovered that her foreign teaching credentials were not recognized here. She had to go to university to earn a bachelor’s degree. To support herself during her studies she worked as a hotel maid – which was a big change for a woman who in Zimbabwe had owned her own house and had employed a maid of her own.
Ottilia Chareka ultimately earned both a master’s degree and a Ph.D.
At the time of her death, Dr. Chareka was teaching at St. Francis Xavier University in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. She remained in contact with women in her homeland, whom she urged to pursue education for themselves. She sent them money to help them pay for their schooling.
As she was pursuing a successful career of her own, Dr. Chareka was also raising five daughters, now aged 3 to 21. Her death will be a devastating loss for these young women, who would have so greatly benefitted from having the continued guidance of a mother like her – a woman who by all accounts was brilliant, loving, and passionate about life. Now her daughters will be forced to go on without her, living as orphans who have lost their mother to murder and their father to incarceration for that murder.
And the women of rural Zimbabwe whom Dr. Chareka worked to inspire and supported financially will also be far worse off for her loss.
And so shall we all. While I never got the chance to meet Dr. Chareka, I feel that my life is much diminished by the fact that now I never will. The world is a good deal less bright for no longer having her in it.
Dr. Chareka's story serves as a stark reminder to us all that sometimes a woman’s only obstacle to achieving greatness in her life is the man in her life.
How do I honour such a woman? As I write these words I know that I am not able to do her story – her life – justice. Who am I to think that I could even hope to adequately tell the story of such an amazing woman?
But I do hope that justice is in fact done. That the man who (allegedly) murdered her is put away for a long, long time.
But, in the end, is there really any kind of restitution for what he is accused of having done – for having taken her from her five daughters, from her friends, from her colleagues, from all of us? How do we find a just punishment for someone whose brutal act snuffed out such a shining light – a light that promised to illuminate us all?
We can’t. Because there is no adequate punishment for such an act.
But we can work for justice. Justice not only for Dr. Chareka, but for all women everywhere.
I plan to do my part. I will take my pain, my anger, my grief, and my frustration at Dr. Chareka’s death – and at the death of any woman at the hands of the man in her life – and use it to fuel the work that I do to try to end men’s violence against women for now and for all time.
I yearn for a time when men no longer beat women. When men no longer rape women. When men no longer kill women… When the actions of one man can no longer end the dreams of a brilliant, courageous woman.
Who is with me?