On child rape in Madagascar:
The few who press charges are plunged into a criminal justice process that Mr. Mouigni calls deeply frustrating.
He can offer victims who arrive at his station little more than an officer behind a typewriter — no counselors, no video cameras to record testimony, no toy-filled rooms or friendly intermediaries. Instead, girls as young as 5 are expected to confront their tormentors face to face. Perhaps most daunting, poor families must produce at least $15 to cover investigation costs like gloves and paper for medical exams.
The per capita GDP in Madagascar is $900. Per month, that's $75. So, for the mean (not even median, mind you) family, you're asking for 20% of their monthly income just to file a rape case. And for a poor family, you're asking much more than that. And here's the result:
That was nearly enough to deter Claudine Ravoniarisoa, who appeared at Mr. Mouigni's station one recent Thursday with her 15-year-old daughter. Wringing her hands nonstop, the girl told officers that a neighbor had raped her while her mother was hospitalized. “He destroyed my life and my body,” she said.
But once her mother learned of the costs, she decided to identify the perpetrator only as “Mr. X.”
“I have no money to pursue this,” she protested, while an officer tried to persuade her to do so.
In another room, Domoima Rahamtanirima pressed a case against her brother-in-law in the molestation of her 5-year-old, Menja. For two weeks afterward, Mrs. Rahamtanirima said, the girl cried when she urinated.
Mrs. Rahamtanirima borrowed money for the required medical exam. Nothing was left to buy the medicine the doctor had prescribed for Menja.
