My Girlfriend Minka Zalipski.

This here is my girlfriend Minka Zalipski. She is of good stock I think, her father was being a mining wangler and her mother previously a actress. It is true that because of unwarranted behavior Zalipski was expelled from France and Mexico. Always a fundamental, she has mixed in circles with by left-wing political activists and avant-garde artists, where she met second cousin of Metody, Bazyli Jankowski in 1983. Always troubled, from 1984, Minka is then having increasing signs of mania (Minka's mother is being committed in 1965, and indeed died in Krakow Insane Asylum). Jankowski and Zalipski traveled around Poland, eventually making their way to England in August 1996.
Zalipski’s erotic poetry first appeared in a joint compilation with Jankowski, 'Jesteś świeczką w Mojej Czarnej Nocy.' published in Clapham in 1998. Displaying Jankowski’s skills as a eroticist, the poems is written in Polish. More erotic poetry collections is following: Czekam. Czekam. Czekam. - 'I am waiting, I am waiting, I am waiting.' - until July 1999 when Zalipski was forced to flee to Wales because of the debts.
On hearing of her sister husband’s murder Zalipski already unstable has a complete mental, and is committed to the East Gwent Lunatic Asylum for over four years. Eventually released into the care of a doctor in late October 2004, Minka Zalipski is disappearing some weeks later and was believed to have died whilst shopping in a Woolworths store in South London.
In Minka Zalipski reappeared in Llanelli in June 2005 and is then under care of man who is calling his self Doktor Hilarius Plischke von Enns an German psychiatrist specializing in Mesmerism.
But for Minka then trouble is wery much coming in 2009. This is sounding bamboozling, I know. But the hand he trembles as I write this. I want to close her eyes and be scrubbing a five month fate from her mind. But I must tell story so as not to forgotten that a citizen’s rights are most precious, most wonderful rights in world.
Most of her life she has been entertainer as well as poet, performing with darling creatures of Nature. She was known as “Bird Woman” for her talent in training mynah birds and parrots and or pet, training to talk, laugh, giggle and sing. Thousands of people had been delighted by her novelty. Though she a bit past fifty year old, she still have her “show girl” figure; her natural hair still has ginger hue. Her eye is sky blue and she have been considered more than attractive.
Her past, as an entertainer and citizen, was unblemished up until that black day when she bought a second-hand combination radio, record player and television set.
She had gone to King Street, Carmarthenshire, with a dear friend of mine, a woman to whom I had been to become engaged once. She noticed an eye-catching display of second-hand television sets in radio & appliance store. Although she was already owning a television set, it played badly and my friend suggested, “Why not look him over?” and she did agree.
She was picking out a handsome Phillips priced originally at £300.00 and marked down to £42.00. Friend make financial arrangements because she have no head for figures. It worked out that she would get £17.00 trade in for her set and balance, £25.00 (tax included), would be paid in instalment. Mr. O’Hara (Irish shop owner) said that a finance corporation would take over account.
Even though it seemed simple, it was as though a shadow had passed over her heart, warning that something terrible would happen. But she was shrugging bad feeling away, telling herself she was being child.
On third day set went bad.
She was calling Mr. O’Hara and a repairman took set to shop. When set was returned it went bad again. She was sending it back again, and when it returned, in no time at all, it went bad. Fifth time Mr. O’Hara himself came for set. By that time her 90-day guarantee was used. All she had got for money was misery, inconwenience, and only a few hours of clear television viewings.
Two months is passing and Mr. O’Hara hadn’t returned set. By that time she was preparing to move to Pembrey to put on shows with birds. She was telling this to finance company when she gave monthly payment. By chance, she was happening to meet repairman at O’Hara’s and he told her, in private, that her set was lemon.
“It is costing you from £60 to £70 to rewire him and probably won’t work right. As we haven’t even started on it - Beside, your record player is also on bum. We want that you to make a deposit before work start on it.”
Before she is moved to Pembrey she is writing to Mr. O’Hara asking him to return television set. His answer finally come when she is finishing shows and moved to Carmarthen. Mr. O’Hara say: “ . . . contact us now regarding TV set. Unless set is redeemed we will dispose of him.”
Then finance company began to hound her. They hounded her until life become excruciating! They is telephoning her at all hours of day and night, demanding money, slandering, maltreating her reputation, condemning her—day after day—until her nerves is frazzled and every sound is making her jumping. She kept telling, “I’ll make payments, but first return television set”—but they is never listening. They kept hounding her until her gallstone condition became so aggravated she is become terrible sick.
Finance company is then sending collector to her home.
He is tall fellow and heavy and with coarse voice like mean tiger. He is become abusive and vulgar, calling her vile name and threatening her with bodily harm. He is jabbing thumbs at her and I swears to Queen, he is saying: “I warning you, Minka. You’ve heard of people’s bodies floating in bay, you haven’t? Well, they didn’t jump in. They owed finance company money and that’s how they is handling peoples who give trouble!”
She is so terrified that she screams at him to leave or would she call police. When she is saying “police” he left— and her terror was so deep that she is fainted. She fell to floor in a dead faint, hitting her head hard.
Next door neighbour called police and took her to hospital, to private doctor. When she is telling with him what is happened, he is shocked. When she was well enough to leave for home, she couldn’t with sleeping. She is afraid collector will come back, that he would deface her, that he would hurt birds and pets out of revenge. It was beginning of nightmare she is thought never will end.
When she told my friend of horrible incident, she assured her that she has no reason to be frightened. she couldn’t be jailed for non-payment of bill. Especially since she isn’t ever gotten TV back and when she is having it—it was pile of junk.
And then two men from finance company came to her new home in Pembrey. Two burly men pounded and kicked front door, demanding that she is stepping outside, demanding their monies, shouting vile names with her, using profanity that drunken sailors wouldn’t use—promising her most horrible physical harm if she didn’t let them in.
“I haven’t got television set. Mr. O’Hara is having it. But you can be taking everything else, stove, refrigerator, all furniture, only leave her in peace.”
But they kept pounding door and cursing, claiming they weren’t in second-hand furniture business. “We want the money!”
People from all over gathered. Traffic stopped to watch what two men were doing, how humiliating to her, shaming her before everyone who knew her as respectable voman. Disgrace was terrible. She is finally screaming.
“If you don’t go away, I’ll call police.”
They pounded door a bit more, and cursed, then shouted up.
“If you don’t have a payment Friday, we’re going to be putting you in jail!”
On Friday, at 3:30 in morning, two men from Llanelli, and one policeman from Carmarthen police force started beating on her door, demanding that she is coming out. Police car sirens began screaming all around and men started taking out windows to get in. Her heart was pounding like hammer and she is frantic.
Carmarthen policeman finally opened door with a skeleton key and charged up stairs into bedroom. she was in just underpant. Her knees buckled and fell to floor. They claimed to have a warrant for her arrest for hiding and concealing property of finance company. She is trying to explain situation but they is demanding that she is dressing and be escorted to police station.
They wouldn’t let her dress in private, saying she might run away. They made her feel cheap and disgusting as they watched her dress.
She was taken to Carmarthen County Jail, but wasn’t booked as should have been done if to be arrested. They allowed her to call friend and when she tried to bail her out, they wouldn’t let.
“You can’t bail her out,” they is claiming. “She is insane. Doctor said so. She’s going to be sent away for treatments.”
She is not believing what she is hearing. She was taught to obey and revere law—to honour ideals of law—and now law was committing a terrible crime against her. If someone had smashed her with rock, she is not more frightened, and dazed.
She is spending three days in a jail that was like a grisly dungeon. Mattress was like tissue paper and crawling with all kinds of wermin. When she managed to doze off a terrible squealing awakened her. It was rat caught in a trap that was gradually crushing its head and neck. That went on all night. She is not even reading newspaper. What little money she is having she gave to prisoners for nuts and cigarettes. Only moment of relief was when a doctor examined her for her mental retardation—but relief turned out to be just anorther form of torture. He asked her questions about sexy and perversions and immorality and he judged her “insane!”
She was taken back to cell, her heart leaden with despair and hopelessness. They kept opening door to cell at all hours of day and night and tossing in vomen of worst kind. Drunks, whores, fanatics, drug addicts, vomen who were banged up and bloody from beating with street fights, vomen with sores and rashes all over face and bodies. “Dear God in heaven,” she is praying. “Please get me out of here. I committed no crime. All I did was buy a television set on instalments. Please, dear God in heaven, get me out of this torture chamber!”
After three days her case is come up and she is stood before justice. She was asked, “Guilty, or not guilty?” She pleaded, “Not guilty!” and explained story, told how she is begging finance company to take back property, and wasn’t hiding or concealing, she told how they were hounding her, shamed her, violated her in person, and disfavoured her before her friends and neighbours. She expressed anxiety to go home because animals and birds needed attending or would die, and said that she wasn’t a healthy voman and was under doctor’s care.
Judge Merlin Jenkins said, “He dismissing case against this woman.”
Bailiff stepped to. She cried with joy. Tears of happiness ran down her fat face. She could go home to pets and beautiful birds and carry on her •work and once again live like a highly regarded voman, trying to forget this dreadful knowledge.
Outside courtroom sheasked bailiff if he would be good enough to loan her bus fare to get to Pembrey as she is giving all money to prisoners. He said that first they is to go upstairs, and he would give cab fare. She is telling him: “No, thank you. I would rather die first. I’ll be walking back to home.”
Bailiff grabbed her savagely, and. dragged her to door. She is stunned to resist. This was unbelievable. Judge Merlin Jenkins had freed her.
At door she is trying to pull away but bailiff nearly tore her in half to drag her back. While struggling another policeman came in, carrying a voman who claimed she wasn’t drunk and wanted to be with husband. Policeman smashed voman’s face, knocking her down and breaking her arm. (I heard later that voman died.) So she went with bailiff because of terror that she would be smashed in face. She was shoved into cell that was like a huge pail—it was a solitary confinement cell. But they are not shutting door.
“Why, dear God in heaven, why?” She is praying. “Why am I being persecuted and hounded, abused and violated? Why? Doesn’t law protect innocent people? Why is law sinning me against? Why?”
But now she was treated with even greater abuse. She is considered troublemaker. Her health is getting worse and she is subject to terrible pain. Later on she is taken to another psychiatrist who asked same questions asked of her by other doctor. All about sexy with men and sexy with vomen, sexy, sexy, sexy, as if only way to tell whether person is sane or insane is by asking questions about sexy. This psychiatrist said that she is going to be sent to Retreat, but when finally taken from jail, she is sent to Solva Ward St. David’s Asylum, a sanatorium for mentally disturbing people.
She, Minka Zalipski, who has been good woman, fine entertainer, respectable citizen who had never committed one infraction against law, was sent to a place where is treating insane—and hadn’t even issued a “sanity warrant”.
She is staying at Solva Ward St. David’s Asylum, a sanatorium for mentally disturbing people for three days. She is demanding that she be examined for her sanity but doctors said they couldn’t examine because they hadn’t time. She raised fuss, insisting that she be examine, that finally is and found her to be absolutely complete sane. They gave her a paper stating that she was sane and competent.
She was taken from Solva Ward St. David’s Asylum, a sanatorium for mentally disturbing people and escorted back to Carmarthen County Jail to wait for her trial. That same night while she was standing on chair by window, looking up at sky and praying to God in heaven for help, chair was suddenly kicked from under her and she fell to floor, bruising her buttocks and injuring her back. They had thrown in a crazy voman into cell and she was taken with a fits and Minka was one who suffered brunt of insanity.
While waiting for her trial, not one day passed without something dreadful happening. She was kicked and pinched and solicited by perverts, struck by drug addicts who used her to vent anger. In order to get some help before her entire state of mind collapse, I began writing letters and tossing them into window of her cell, hoping she would find one and read it.
She was sent to a third psychiatrist who began asking questions about sexy. Have she ever done this or that? With this kind of a person or that kind of a person? Did she enjoy it or hate it or not care one way or another? Sexy, sexy, sexy—as if all people in world lived in one big, dirty bed. She is answering as best she could and was sent back to cell. Later she learned that he had sent in a report saying that she is incurably insane, a paranoid.
She was not allowed to see anyone then. But I kept writing letters and tossing them into cell window. She is being driven out of mind by bugs, and by mouses in her cell.
It was only through help of Assembly of God church people— people who visit prisons to pray for unfortunate inmates— that first ray of hope is shiny. While they is praying she is telling story and begging to help before an innocent soul was cast into hell for no reason.
At trial they brought two psychiatrists to be testifying against her. They said that she is sexually insane and if to be released, would probably commit a terrible act of sex— even murder.
She had bring out certificates of competence and sanity given to her by doctors at Solva Ward St. David’s Asylum, a sanatorium for mentally disturbing people, proving that she was normal, but of a scientifically proved superior emotional stability and mentality—but certificates on her behalf was ignored.
When one-sided hearing was over, she was soon shipped to Solva Ward St. David’s Asylum, a sanatorium for mentally disturbing people and was glad to be going instead of having to stay in prison cell. Even so was for mentally disturbed, cells were clean and food was digestible.
In a little while her cell was opened and she was allowed to be free. Nightmare is over and her heart was racing so fast she is thinking it burst from her body. Nightmare is over—yes—but waking up from a nightmare can be terrible.
When she is returning home it is like stepping into funeral parlour. Birds and animals had died. She is seeing tiny, dead bodies, her heart is broke and she is crying for hours. Her only friends had starved to death. Loveliest, gentlest, most loyal of God’s creatures had died while waiting for her to return.
Later on, finance company sent men who took every bit and she was left destitute and had to quit show business to find work as a massuse.
I had to tell this story to let it serve as warning to peoples who fool herselves into believing that they have rights that will always be protected when come face to face with law—or have to deal with a finance company they know nothing about.
Take warning from me. Be sure you know what you’re doing. She free now, yes. But scars on her heart and soul that she will take with her to grave.