domestic abuse exists’

“We can solve this because, especially when both parties are in the church, we know the man and we know the woman. There’s an emphasis on seeking a spiritual solution to that problem and not thinking about domestic abuse as a crime.”

Black churches sprang up in London, Birmingham, Manchester and other cities and towns as the Windrush generation settled and found English churches to be racist, hostile places.

These Black churches became “first places that people turn to for help and lots of things” as African and Caribbean families suffered racism in society. They were also places where the community turned to for help with education, housing, and immigration status.

Cultural

“A lot of people describe those spaces as non-judgmental spaces… they feel at home in Black majority churches. They feel like they can be themselves. They feel freer because they’re among people from a similar racial and cultural background,” says Dr Kanyeredzi.

However, in a place where faith and culture have united a diaspora of people histori- cally separated through slavery, she believes that this can make dealing with problems like domestic abuse even more complicated.

“We know there were a lot of stereotypes around Black families, Black men and Black women. These churches [BMCs] are like pillars in their communities in relation to positive images and aspirations of marriage and family and togetherness,” she said.

“When it comes to topics such as abuse and violence, especially people who are racialised minorities, there are stereotypes that have been handed down since slavery around Black people.

“‘Black men are the aggressors’, ‘Black women are sexually promiscuous’ and so on. And these are ways in which oppression or ill-treatment of Black folk have been justified. We do have a very difficult relationship when it comes to Black people who are abusive to other Black people.”

One of the other damning aspects to emerge from Dr Kanyeredzi’s research is that old-style BMCs opted to keep the abuse “in-house” and was sometimes covered up for people who served as church his nephew stole my car and I got dragged up the road”, says Ms Worrell.

“It was all a culmination of things that have happened and the police being called and my doctor saying to me that my health is really, really deteriorating, and if I didn’t deal with the situation they were going to have to deal with it for me from a medical perspective.”

After suffering domestic abuse for eight years, Ms Worrell finally separated from her abuser in 2016 and obtained a non-molestation order against her ex-husband.

She now supports other ca and it’s the norm if someone was telling you to shut your mouth, sit down. Even with your grandparents. I see abuse more now than I ever have done because I know what abuse is.” leaders in the community. Ms Worrell admits she was “functioning well” while in church, despite the abuse she was suffering. But, inside, her self-esteem had plummeted.

Ms Worrell, who says her faith never wavered when suffering at the hands of her exhusband, says that education and awareness of what abuse looks like in Black culture and faith spaces is the only way to bring about change.

Dr Kanyeredzi agrees, and has seen progress in ‘New Testament-style’, post-Windrush churches, that also have congregations from other backgrounds attending. Some of these BMCs have church leaders with backgrounds in social services.

She revealed both styles of churches gained a new insight during the COVID pandemic when domestic abuse was reported to have escalated.

Things finally started to change when her health started to deteriorate, to the point where she and others couldn’t ignore it.

“I had a mild stroke and I had heart problems and urinal problems. I had a fractured finger and that was due to a fight. He (the ex-husband) tried to take my car keys and my finger got fractured, and then he and women who are survivors of domestic abuse.

Ms Worrell believes that as well as the Black churches needing to improve how they handle domestic abuse cases and support for survivors, she feels that our cultures as African and Caribbean people also play a role in how abuse rears its head.

“They don’t want to discuss it and they minimise the impact. It’s just an unheard of, unspoken thing and a lot of behaviours are quite normalised from Caribbean backgrounds,” she explains.

“My parents are from Jamai-

Speaking on the conclusion of the research, Dr Kanyeredzi said: “I was just fascinated by how, without even being asked about their religion or their spirituality, they just offered up these wonderful narratives.

“I didn’t ask them about their faith. They all spoke about their faith. They all spoke about church spaces as important at some point in their journeys with experiences of abuse.”

She added: “The congregation is ready to have these conversations, but they’re waiting. They’re waiting for their cues from the leadership to make it okay to have these sorts of conversations.”