No Peace Until He’s Dead: My Story of Child Sex Abuse at the Hands of Davy Tweed and My Journey to Recovery by Amanda Brown

No Peace Until He’s Dead: My Story of Child Sex Abuse at the Hands of Davy Tweed and My Journey to Recovery Reviews

• 
  Deirdre Clancy

  Having recently read Máiría Cahill's
  disturbing account of child sexual abuse at the hands of a pillar of the Republican community in Belfast, it crossed my mind to wonder if the justice system in Northern Ireland had failed women from Loyalist communities as radically in similar ways. The tightened tribal loyalties created by the Troubles seem to have had the effect of providing multiple layers of protection for those with a predisposition to child abuse if they were known as pivotal figures in their respective communities.
  
  Amanda Brown's parents were married while still in their teens, and when her father had an affair, her mother was left to cope as a single mother with two young children. It's well known that domestic abusers will seek out women in vulnerable situations, and David Tweed appeared first like a knight in shining armour to the young broken family. After her mother married Tweed, things started to degenerate in the home, and Tweed became so volatile and violent toward his wife that once the men in the neighbourhood felt the need to get together as a group to attack him for it. It was the only way they knew to respond to the danger Tweed posed to a vulnerable woman, in a Belfast where the police would arrive at a house, write a violent incident off as 'a domestic', and take no further action, even if the woman's injuries were obviously severe.
  
  Amanda's mother had several more daughters with Tweed, and was often abused while pregnant. What the abused mother did not know, however, was that Tweed was also a prolific and clever paedophile, who had no qualms about sexually assaulting Amanda from about the age of seven. This is her earliest complete memory of the abuse, though she has some less vivid memories that suggest it may go back further. Throughout her childhood, Amanda endured this abuse, believing in her child's mind that her mother had enough to deal with, and that by doing so and keeping silent, she was protecting her younger sisters from the same fate. This was not the case, unfortunately, as Tweed was surreptitiously sexually assaulting them throughout their childhoods also.
  
  The book takes us through the details of this family's ordeals at the hands of Tweed, and it's deeply unpleasant reading. Due to Tweed's status as a celebrated international rugby player, as well as a leading light in various unionist organizations, the community around the family either turned a blind eye to the abuses or simply refused to believe they were happening. Brown's descriptions of the court case and the reactions she received within her community when she decided to press charges as an adult are profoundly disturbing. She found herself in abusive relationships with several men, who trivialized what she had been through and were unsupportive of her efforts to have Tweed convicted.
  
  This book, like Cahill's, raises some serious questions about the way child sexual abuse cases are handled in the North of Ireland, both within communities and by the judicial system. Amanda's beloved cousin, Gemma, committed suicide soon after Tweed's trial ended, unable to cope with what she had suffered at his hands. He got a measly four years in prison for all the misery he caused, after which his conviction was quashed on a small technicality. Even while Tweed was in prison, his victims had to endure threats from the UVF, who attempted to paint them as liars.
  
  This is an incredibly powerful narrative by a highly resilient individual. As Amanda Brown rails in the book against cliches about victims of abuse being courageous and strong, I hope it's safe to use the word 'resilient'. This seems to genuinely be the case: she has held down jobs, bought a house, and had a child while enduring the consequences of this tragic sequence of events in her life, which would break many people.
  
  It's hard to call a book like this enjoyable, but it's definitely one that will likely help and empower many people who have been through similar situations in their lives. It is straightforward, authentic, and full of righteous anger, and an important contribution to a public conversation that will be ongoing for some time both in the North of Ireland and our island as a whole.
• 
  LMK 🧋 twentyeightchapters

  Ok. This was breathtaking and the hardest book I have ever read. I don’t have any words to do it justice and I won’t even attempt to describe the many, many things I felt when reading it. I am just in awe of Amanda and her strength and the strength of her family and I am so glad her story is now out there and can be known. A difficult read, but an important one.
• 
  Karis

  A very raw and empowering read. In complete awe of Amanda’s resilience, this book truly helped heal my inner child.
• 
  Michaella

  such a sad and brilliant book.
  
  I had so many emotions when I read this book. I cried, my blood boiled with anger, my blood ran cold with disgust. Brilliantly written.