Comboni Missionaries Abuse
The first time I heard the name the Verona Fathers(nowCombonis Missionaries), or Mirfield for that matter, was when Fr. Luciano Fulvi came to my school. He was what was known amongst the Verona Fathers as their Vocations Director. And it was his job to go around all the schools in the UK “seeking out” potential vocations for the priesthood and the religious life. He must have done this job very well. In the 1960’s junior seminaries were full.
It seems bizarre to me now, that as a child of 12 years old I could make such momentous decisions about leaving home and attempting to train to become a missionary. No one in my family believed, or would have thought for one minute it would be me – my brother yes – but not me.
Anyway there I was, sitting in my class listening to Fr. Luciano Fulvi talk about the African Missions. Or more importantly, as far as I was concerned, the African wildlife. Even then I was passionate about wildlife and nature. His stories of lions and elephants and of hunting and fishing were what hooked me.
The missions or missionary work did not play much part, and why should it? I was a child and a dreamer and I already had that Nile Perch at the end of my rod and on the hook.
When Fr. Fulvi asked the inevitable question at the end of his talk, “is anyone interested?” my hand shot up and I ticked the box to say I wanted more information.
Fr. Fulvi visited us at home, and a weekend visit to Mirfield was arranged. My mum seemed especially keen for me to go, but my dad was not so enthusiastic.
Some Catholic families thought that it was a great honour to have a priest in the family. The words “God chose you, you did not choose God,” I remember being said several times both before and during my time at Mirfield.
I do not remember much about my weekend visit. I recall being dropped off by my mum and dad and seeing the big building for the first time. It was very daunting going in the dormitory – with maybe 40 beds in it. I played football, went to the services – I don’t remember mixing with the other boys very much.
However, I also don’t remember missing home – probably because I knew mum and dad were coming for me on Sunday night. I don’t think it occurred to my consciousness that this was, more than likely, going to be my home for the foreseeable future.
Comboni Missionaries Junior Seminary
So in September 1969 I found myself being dropped off at Mirfield, the Verona Fathers Junior Seminary, to begin my training to be a missionary. I have this memory of everyone waving to me as they went back home.
The moment my family left me I knew I had made a terrible mistake. What was to follow was a period of extreme pain, fear, loneliness and isolation.
It all felt so sudden and traumatic. One minute I was with my family and part of it. The next I was alone and on my own. With them driving off, waving goodbye and leaving me. My family had been substituted by many anonymous strangers.
All the security and love, the things that made me who I was, had gone and left me. The attachments, the touches, the sounds, everything that I had come to know and love, and be loved by, were no longer with me.
Even now, I find it difficult to use words, and to find words to describe the loss, pain and fear that I experienced then.
It didn’t seem to matter that the move to Mirfield had been discussed numerous times beforehand. I was a child, and until it became real, I viewed the move through the eyes and mind of the child that I was. The idea of the move was one of excitement and adventure. The reality was very, very different.
Looking back – especially when looking at the first term – I realise that what I was going through and feeling and experiencing was depression. I remember spending a lot of time on my own, sobbing my heart out – literally – and being totally withdrawn and existing and living in a world of my own.
My biggest fear was that, whilst I was away, everything at home would change and consequently I would not be loved by my family any more. I needed constant reassurance that this was not happening. And so wrote letters home every day, with either my mum or dad – usually my mum – replying to each one.
During the first term at Mirfield I just lived for the free day. As far as I remember, this took place during the middle of the term, and on a Saturday. Instead of spending the morning doing cleaning and housework, we were able to have ‘ free time’ from after morning mass until the evening service. On my first such day, I planned to get the train from Huddersfield to Liverpool and then spend time with my mum and dad in Liverpool City Centre. I could not wait, that Saturday could not come soon enough.
Because of my homesickness my studies during this period suffered, and I struggled in all aspects of the school curriculum.
I went through a period of self harming and became quite bald as a result of it. I would gently pull clumps of my hair out, put them together and then slowly stick them in my ear to give me a tickling effect. I would do this at various times of the day. However, I seem to remember that I did this, more often than not, during classroom lessons and during chapel services.
Father Romano Nardo of Comboni Missionaries
What I find incredible now, is that nobody at that time noticed what I was going through and how homesick and unhappy I was, and consequently how I was suffering mentally because of it. It was a very difficult and lonely time for me and I was pleased when Father Romano Nardo arrived at Mirfield – he was attentive to me, and that took away the pain that accompanied my homesickness.
Occasionally the ‘God Squad’ would say our evening prayers in Nardo’s bedroom. This did not happen that often at first – the chapel was still Nardo’s preferred place to pray with “his group.” I remember he had an electric organ and our evening sessions of singing, saying prayers and generally spending time in Nardo’s room became more frequent.
I remember, in particular, the folk hymn ‘Kum Ba Yah – this was one of our favourites – and we would sing it with gusto and enthusiasm.
It was around this time that some of us – myself included – would go and see him alone in his room. I and, I suspect others, became quite jealous if we knew that other members of the group – “The God Squad Group” – had been in his room or were with him.
For my part, Nardo began asking me to come to his room at specific times during free time in the evenings and weekends.
The Details of Mark’s Abuse by the Comboni Missionaries
– From this time onwards, until Father Nardo left the Seminary, Mark would leave his dormitory in the early hours of the morning and would sleep in Father Nardo’s bed almost every night. As on the first occasion, Father Nardo would wake Mark before the morning bell and Mark would return to his own bed.
– As a result of the said overnight visits to Father Nardo’s bedroom, Mark was so tired each day that he struggled to stay awake during lessons.
– In an act of apparent religious zeal Father Nardo carved a crucifix shape into his torso with a blade or other sharp instrument and encouraged Mark to do the same. Mark did so, which caused him to bleed and to feel pain. Father Nardo taught Mark to embrace and cherish the pain as it would bring him closer to God. Father Nardo suggested that the resulting scar would protect Mark from the power of demons and evil. In the hope of earning praise from Father Nardo, Mark would re-open his wound with the edge of his nail.
– In the spring of 1970, Father Nardo offered to take Mark home to Marks family for the Easter holiday. Father Romano travelled to Mark’s family home and then stayed with Mark’s family and impressed them with his piety and by celebrating a private Mass for them at home on several occasions.
– On one occasion during the said holiday, Mark had a stomach ache and was lying down in his bedroom during the day. Father Nardo entered the bedroom, sat down at the side of the bed, and rubbed Mark’s genitals over his pyjamas while rubbing his own genitals over his trousers.
– The abuse by Father Nardo ended after Father Luigi Cocchi, another member of the said Order, saw Mark leaving Father Nardo’s bedroom one morning. Shortly after this incident Father Nardo suddenly left the Seminary and was sent to the Order’s missions in Uganda. His departure was unannounced and premature.
For a current update click on Mark’s New Comboni Missionaries (Missionari Comboniani) Story