That Was Somebody’s Daughter.

What happens between a man and his property, I mean wife, is between the two of them.

That co-worker was raped because she was too enticing.

She left him for someone else.

Those women are missing and/were murdered because they plied their bodies for money.

They all made their choices and now they must live, or die, with the consequences of it.

This is a common theme in conversations, amongst high, low, and in-between societies.

Please let us all remember

She is someone’s daughter

She was someone’s daughter

She will always be someone’s daughter

She used to play with dolls.

She used to hold our hands when she was afraid.

She used to trust us to always be there when she needed us.

She grew into her teen years.

She giggled with her friends.

She cried when she broke up with her dates.

She asked endless questions.

She was the voice of wisdom.

She was the little girl in need.

Through all the angst of growing past her teens, she made it.

One day on the cusp of her emergence into womanhood, she was murdered.

Waiting for a trial to begin so justice can be done.

A mother prays for justice.

Her only reason for living is to save all those little daughters not yet taken.

A mother’s heart, it knows her daughter will not walk the earth again, but it will never forget.

Years go by and her daughter is forgotten as a person,

She’s a case file now.

She’s a two-dimensional image on a grainy screen.

She’s a reference in a lawyer’s notebook.

The judge and jury can’t feel her.

They will never know her.

Not the way her mother still knows her.

Time may heal all wounds but not this kind.

Pain and questions will forever plaque the mind.

Was she given the opportunity to get consul before her life was taken?

Did she get a chance to plead her case?

Did she beg them to be rational?

Did she appeal to the accomplice to use his voice of reason before it was too late?

Before she could make her mark as an artist, an actress, a model, a doctor, or a mother.

She only got to be someone’s daughter…for a short time.

Should he walk free what is the message we are sending out to our society?

That our little girls’ lives are based on their whim?

That our daughters live by their grace or die by their hands?

Justice will take its bitter time and eventually turn on a dime.

In the meantime mothers will suffer.

After all we are martyrs.

Thousands of our daughters whose lives did matter are gone, gone forever.

She never got to see what she could’ve been had she been allowed to travel the highways and byways of life.



The numbers never lie.

Dhaliwal and Batalia had dated, but the young woman ended the relationship.”

A cryptic one-liner leaves one to wonder if that is all it takes to get away with murder.

Highway of Tears. Started to document the unsolved murders, help bring answers to the families of victims, and bring awareness to what is happening to our women.

” A 2014 report by the RCMP concluded 1,017 aboriginal women had been murdered between 1980 and 2012, and that another 164 were considered missing.”

“Indigenous women make up 4.3 per cent of the Canadian population but the report found they account for 16 per cent of female homicides and 11.3 per cent of missing women.”

A list of Dead Women In Canada 2015, compiled byNL Feminists and Allies tells a little part of the story of the women killed every few hours somewhere in Canada.

“This is a list of girls and women suspected to have been murdered by men and their deaths were identified as murders in 2015.”

There is another list started for Dead Women in Canada 2016 – only eight weeks into the year and already the bodies are piling up.

 “NL Feminists and Allies also thanks the many journalists in Canada who continue to report on the epidemic of violence against women and whose work is used here as reference”.


We, writers, bloggers reporters journalists, women, men, and others –  whatever we call ourselves – must continue to bring awareness to these cases lest they be forgotten as quickly as this morning’s news.


Until next time keep up with my local community and gluten-free and organic food travels on instagram and twitter @glutenfreesam and for even more stories check out




Samantha McLeod

Vancouver based food and travel writer.

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