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Shafilea Ahmed


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What kind of sick f***s can do something like this to their own child ?






Her poetry captured something more profound and deadly than the normal angst-ridden teenage yearnings for freedom.


“I don’t pretend like we’re the perfect family no more, desire to live is burning, my stomach is turning, but all they think about is honour,” wrote Shafilea Ahmed before being murdered by her controlling parents and her body dumped in a remote riverbank where it was hoped it would never be found.



But though she was popular, clever, conscientious and ambitious, it was not enough for Iftikhar and Farzana Ahmed. They subjected their eldest daughter to sustained campaign of domestic violence in a bid to crush her independence, limit her movements and her friends.




On that night, following yet another row over clothes, boys, and her continued refusal to be cowed into an arranged marriage with a Pakistani stranger, her father forced a carrier bag into her mouth egged on by his wife who urged him to “just finish it here”.


The taxi driver, then bound his daughter’s asphyxiated body in black plastic bags and drove up the M6 to Cumbria where he hid it at the first likely spot he could find before returning to his family.





Detectives rejected claims they were stereotyping the family when they questioned them over Shafilea’s disappearance believing her another victim of honour based violence.


The Ahmeds repeatedly made the claim, most spectacularly when they stormed uninvited into a police press conference to tearfully suggest, via their lawyer, that they were the victims of racism.




Shafilea had been missing several times before including in February 2003 when she was away for a week and sought help from social services.


In her statement for emergency accommodation the teenager described being subjected to domestic abuse since the age of 15 in which “one parent would hold me whilst the other would hit me” and how she was regularly prevented from going to college or her part time job.


But despite her pleas to be given a one bedroom flat in the hope that the involvement of social workers and police would convince her parents to leave her alone, she returned home accompanied by her father insisting everything had been worked out.



That poor kid.





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