Stalked for 11 years: one woman's fight for freedom from an abusive ex-boyfriend
When Koa’s boyfriend strangled her in 2002, she mana g ed to escape by jumping out of a second-floor window. At the time, the two had been dating for about three years. The fall ended up breaking her ankle, but Koa was able to run to her neighbors and call 911. “If my will to live hadn’t outweighed his will to kill me, I would have been dead,” she says.
Koa and her boyfriend stayed together for several years after the assault; they lived together and had a child. Throughout the relationship, Koa says, the abuse continued. In 2006, as she was preparing to spend Christmas with their baby daughter and her parents, she looked up and took in the holes all over her house, from where her boyfriend had punched the walls. That’s when she decided to leave.
It took a few more years for the couple to split. They finally did so in 2009 – but that wasn’t the end of their story. Koa’s ex has spent the last 11 years stalking her and their daughter, now a teenager. Over that time, Koa, now 44, has taken out multiple protective orders against her ex, has moved between four US states and even had her identity legally changed with the help of a domestic violence services program about a decade ago. The Guardianreviewed police reports and citations, court transcripts, disability findings, emails, text messages and audio recordings to verify Koa’s account of her relationship and the aftermath, and is using a pseudonym to protect the subject’s privacy.
She has considered leaving the country, but hasn’t wanted to – the US is her home. “I honestly do not remember if he has [even] been penalized on paper,” Koa says, for violating protective orders.
The abuse she suffered during and after their relationship has left Koa with physical and mental disabilities, including a head injury, which has resulted in persistent memory problems, and complex post-traumatic stress disorder, a type of PTSD that comes from enduring long-term trauma. She suffers from episodes in which she loses consciousness due to anxiety, according to documents the Guardian reviewed related to her disability claims. The documents directly tie her health problems to her ex’s abuse, specifically noting his 2002 assault.
Eleven years is a long time to stalk someone. Koa says the justice system has done little to protect her, and sometimes has put her further in harm’s way. Koa’s case may sound extreme, but the circumstances that led to it – the repeated failures of the criminal justice and family court systems, technically in place for her safety – are common. Years of seeking protection from these and social services have left Koa having to fight for herself and her daughter without the support she needs to fully extricate herself from her abuser.
Koa recalls calling the police after multiple other instances of her ex becoming violent with her before the couple split up – which usually resulted in a verbal warning or a citation. Since he assaulted her in 2002, Koa’s ex has spent brief periods in jail and, Koa says, a psychiatric hospital, but has always gotten out and been able to find her. The last time Koa’s ex physically assaulted her, in 2009, he punched and attempted to strangle her, according to a letter from the shelter where Koa stayed after the attack.
In the new life that Koa has tried to build – away from her abusive ex – he has appeared through some combination of bureaucratic mismanagement and law enforcement officers failing to abide by practices meant to safeguard survivors of intimate partner violence. Several years ago, a law enforcement officer revealed Koa’s changed identity and address to her ex, after the guardian ad litem – the court-appointed person who is meant to represent a child’s best interests – assigned to their child’s visitation case recommended a wellbeing check. This compromise of privacy was both a flaw in the system intended to protect her and simply the way things work sometimes when the guardians of that system don’t prioritize victim safety. It ultimately helped Koa’s ex remain on her trail.
•••
When the coronavirus outbreak hit the US, Koa noticed she felt safer than she had in years.
Her ex hadn’t contacted her in quite some time. It had been more than a year since she’d moved from the east coast to Hawaii, a decent amount of time for someone used to relocating roughly every year and a half to keep her location secret.
Travel restrictions and lockdown procedures meant Koa’s ex wouldn’t necessarily be traveling anytime soon. And although she dislikes having to wear a mask in public, Koa realized she appreciates the anonymity it’s provided. “Nobody can recognize me,” she says. “I am scared for when they say ‘OK, you don’t have to wear a mask any more.’”
This relative feeling of security disappeared when Koa got a text from an unfamiliar number in April. The text, which has been reviewed by the Guardian, contained Koa’s home address at the time, nothing else. She couldn’t