Whether on her Facebook support group, at the Joujouthéque Saint-Michel, at the Table de consultation of organizations serving refugees and immigrants or when she intervenes at Halte-Femmes Montréal-Nord, Mariana Infante never leaves behind her radiant smile. The smile of a woman who has nevertheless experienced the worst — rape, psychological violence, physical violence, then forced exile... to survive. Portrait.
Surrounded by toys intended for loan, Mariana Infante supervises the cleaning and checks carried out by several immigrant workers in order to restore these objects to their former youth. She welcomes me to a service point at the Joujouthéque Saint-Michel, a community organization dedicated to the family, nestled above a Maxi grocery store. There, between a Barbie and a race cart circuit, she agrees to entrust her story to La Converse.
Arriving from Mexico pregnant and with a five-year-old son in her arms, she fled the beatings of her husband to find asylum in Quebec. Today, she is fighting to improve the support offered to immigrant women victims of domestic and sexual violence. These women, who face the difficulties associated with both their immigration status and their often very difficult history, are neglected by Quebec society, invisibilized.
It is this relentless observation, this silence in which all these lives are walled up, that Mariana breaks every day, one pickaxe at a time. So that, unlike her, these women do not fall back into the trap of their tormentor.
A visceral commitment
While immigrant women represent 7% of the Quebec population, according to the Council on the Status of Women; and while they are 13.6 times more likely to be victims of domestic violence, according to Statistics Canada, there has been little progress in terms of care. A political paralysis denounced by the community sector, which is trying to alleviate the problem with very limited resources.
In the 46 residential centers that are members of the Reunification of Houses for Women Victims of Domestic Violence, victims born outside Canada represent 69% in the Montreal region. This figure is all the more alarming as the interpreter service for victims of domestic violence could suffer a major break in June. The program was in fact granted a reprieve from April to June 2024, but is still waiting to know if its funding will be renewed by the Quebec government.
As journalist and author Virginie Cresci writes in her essay The price of tears: The hidden cost of sexual violence (to be published in June in Quebec, editor's note): “For some, commitment against violence, for justice, and against denial is the only way to deal with these traumas.” This is indeed the case for Mariana Infante. Convinced that she would not have fallen back into the hands of her ex-husband if she had received appropriate support, she works every day to help allophone immigrants who are victims of domestic and sexual violence.
Mariana multiplies her actions. In particular, she created a support group on Facebook, which connects victims with psychologists, lawyers and specialized organizations. Volunteers also help them move, for example.
“These women are traumatized and come into a system they are completely unfamiliar with — not to mention the language barrier, which alone can prevent them from breaking their silence. That's why it's important to help them by directing them to professionals who are used to these types of profiles and who know how to act, or simply to people who have a car and who are able to help them transport their stuff,” she said.
The forty-year-old is also a formative person for the Table de consultation of organizations serving refugees and immigrants, in addition to acting as an intervener and animator of the Halte-Femmes Montréal-Nord organization with women who have experienced violence.
“It is our responsibility to make efforts to help these women; we must not let them down. Even today, despite everything, I live with fear in my stomach. I've been here for six years and my ex-husband is still harassing me. He even wrote to my son to tell him to rape my new spouse's daughter! ” Mariana is alarmed. The survivor is fighting a visceral battle with a determination equal to the atrocities she has survived. In front of her work colleagues, Mariana tells her story bluntly.
A not so fortuitous encounter
Mariana Infante was born under sunny Mexico City just 40 years ago. “My birth, in itself, was already complicated, because I was born as a result of rape. I had no idea, but my mom finally told me when I was 15 because I kept asking her questions. I had a real shock when I learned it, I had never imagined it, especially since I am the oldest of four children and my mother did not make any difference between us...” she recalls. A first trauma, followed by many others that will mark her existence — and from which she will draw her strength.
Two years later, Mariana meets the man who will change her life forever. A brilliant and hard-working student, the 17-year-old teenager then studied computer programming. Despite the bullying she is subjected to in this Mexican “patriarchal society”, which takes a very negative view of the children of single-parent mothers, like hers, she aspires to become a doctor.
“I first met him at the youth center. Then, I met him again in a park where I was playing soccer with friends. When I wanted to go home, he followed me, he and one of his friends,” explains Mariana.
Four months — that's how long it took this predator five years older to get what he wanted: Mariana. “He started taking up all my time. I understood later that he had drawn up a real hunting plan. In four months, he turned my mind around: he told me that I was intelligent, that I deserved better... Like all narcissists, he presented himself as a perfect man, then he started controlling me,” recalls the woman who will give him four children.
Mariana will try to get out of his grip. But Daniel knows how to exploit the young woman's naturally compassionate nature. Now in a relationship with him, she barely sees the other side of this man when she discovers that she is pregnant. It only took one time... “I had never had sexual relations. I am very religious and marriage is very important to me. He pressured me so much that I gave in, and I became pregnant the very first time I had sex. I was in denial, unable to talk to my mom about it. For his part, he promised me that we would get married and start a family,” she said.
It is the beginning of the “descent into hell.” While Mariana is seven months pregnant, Daniel and his father explain to the young woman that she will no longer return to her mother and that she will now have to live with them. For her mother, who she won't go see because she's so ashamed of what's happening to her, her stepfather comes up with a story that his daughter doesn't want to see her anymore.
“I was trapped. Physical abuse was added to psychological abuse from the very first days. After two weeks, I wanted to go home; and it was a wave of beatings, when I was seven months pregnant. I was no longer allowed to attend my classes, and I could only leave the house with him,” Mariana whispers, her eyes fogged up. Finally, at 18, she gave birth alone in the hospital, where she suffered “obstetric violence.” One more test.
The Coups de Trop
During the first years of her son Daniel, who was named after his father, Mariana enjoyed a certain respite. “We created a clothing business — at first on the markets, then in two retail outlets. I spent a lot of time in church, I was isolated, I had no friends left before him. Finally, I got married, pushed by the church, and became pregnant with my second child, when my first was five years old,” she explains.
But a new blow hits her when she discovers, on Valentine's Day, that her husband is having an affair with a client. She then found the strength to leave him. But learning that she has contacted her mistress, who in turn leaves him, because she thought he was separated, her husband takes revenge on her. “He came to my house, pushed me to the ground and took out all his anger against me. I put myself in the fetal position and was kicked, punched... Until he finally woke up our son, who asked him why he was kicking his mom. He stopped and left,” says Mariana, whose tears are still flowing.
Pregnant, she spent several days in the hospital. On her way out, she goes to the police station, with the support of her family with whom she has reconnected. Her complaint will disappear, like so many others in this Mexican society that protects torturers and believes that a woman should stay with her husband at any cost. “I understood that the only solution was to leave the country”, she regrets. “I understood that the only solution was to leave the country”.
Then begins a game of chess to manage to leave with the obligatory agreement of her husband. Thanks to his mother and Daniel's father, Daniel finally agreed to sign her an authorization to leave the country. He then thinks that she is going to spend some time with her mother, who is living in Canada.
A life to be rebuilt
Maria Infante arrived on Quebec soil in the spring. “When I landed at Montreal airport, the immigration officer saw my papers with the complaint, a letter from a psychologist... and he asked me questions. It was he who explained to me that, given my situation, I could apply for asylum and that the YMCA could help me. My mother-in-law was waiting for me at the exit. I told her that I would not leave with her,” she recalls.
She then discovered a new country where she did not speak the language and did not master the codes. Pregnant and accompanied by her five-year-old son, Mariana was welcomed into the YMCA Residences for refugees and asylum seekers. “It was a shock. I was the only woman upstairs and one time I found a man waiting for me in my room. Luckily, I only spent 17 days there because they helped me find an apartment,” she recalls.
Left to herself, she finds some support from a couple of neighbours and brings Victor into the world. But his in-laws give him no rest. Her sister-in-law moved in with her for several months. “I was harassed by them, I was living on social assistance, because I did not have the right to daycare for my baby, so I could not work. I was scratching the backs of my drawer at the end of the month, but despite everything, I made sure that my children did not lack anything,” says Mariana.
After two years, she managed to convince the judge to validate her asylum application: “It was one of the happiest days of my life! It is very difficult to wait for a decision like that while learning the language of the country, while rebuilding your life, while risking having to leave again.”
It was a temporary joy, because a few months later, the one who was still her husband arrived in Montreal. Arrested at the airport, he calls Mariana and threatens to leave with the children. Stuck, she advises him to apply for asylum in turn, in order to be able to enter the country. He then imposes himself at her home, where he will live for seven months before leaving for Mexico, without having succeeded in convincing her to follow him.
Having obtained her permanent residence, she began working in hotels and took francization courses. But her mother-in-law moves into the same building as her; Mariana finds herself under constant pressure and surveillance. The noose tightens even more when the bishop of the parish she frequents connects with the bishop of her husband's church and tries to convince her that he has changed and that family is more important than anything.
The return of despair
Overwhelmed on all sides, Mariana also has to deal with the news of cancer from her mother, who is still living in Mexico. In 2013, she returned to the country and agreed to return with her husband who now attended church and paid for his mother's care. For Mariana, it's a choice made out of spite.
She gets pregnant again, gives birth to a little Angel, but the mirage of a normal family life disappears in an instant. “It was a nightmare! He took our passports, stopped going to church, stopped paying for my mom's care, and stopped me from being with her on the day of her surgery. He also forced me to have sex, and that's how I got pregnant with my fourth child,” she says.
Depressed and feeling guilty for having returned to Mexico, she suffered the wrath of her husband. His violence was so great that it was the cause of his premature birth at home. “My baby was born dead, strangled by the umbilical cord. Everyone told me it was over, but I got them out and did all the emergency actions I knew for long minutes, praying to heaven,” says Mariana. Her determination will save her baby, little Elias, by “a miracle”.
Her family then helped her leave, this time for good, by threatening to file a complaint for kidnapping and abduction. The only downside is that she is forced to leave behind her younger brother, whose visa application was refused.
Finally, a few months later, a final ruse allowed her to pick up Elias at Montreal airport, while preventing her husband from crossing the border. “It was my second chance in Canada with my four children. From then on, I decided that nothing would stop me from dreaming! ” she enthuses.
After returning in 2016, Mariana took charge of her life. She started her studies again and obtained a degree in community development, while starting to work at the Joujouthéque Saint-Michel, where she still is. “This fresh start has finally opened my eyes. I had to go through all that to find the strength to live alone here. Today, I am trying to help others with my experience”, underlines Mariana, who has permanently cut ties with her ex-husband and her in-laws.
In love, fulfilled in her work, proud to see her four boys grow up, she is finally living the peaceful life she has long dreamed of.