This article is written by Oana Bizgan, an independent progressive MP in the Romanian Parliament. This article is one of the finalists in Apolitical’s 2020 women in government writing competition.

A sports teacher in Romania was found guilty of raping three children.

He went on to serve a sentence in prison for his crime. Four years later, he was hired again at another school, halfway across the country. He then went on to rape seven other children.

I had been a member of parliament for a year when I heard this story. I was working to make my voice heard, as an independent MP, a woman and a human rights and women’s rights advocate.

I was both shocked and outraged by what I learned. I was convinced that, at a reoffending rate of 70%, Romania surely understood the seriousness of the problem, and had a sex offenders register. How could the country let this happen?

The answer was as simple as it was appalling: we are blind to such cases. Blind, and complicit.

Just the tip of the iceberg

I was faced with the hurtful reality: every day, our children are endangered. Around seven out of 10 criminals reoffend. There is no psychological support in prison nor programs to facilitate social reintegration. We were not tackling this issue in any way. We were not protecting victims, and we were not monitoring criminals.

When I started looking into the problem, I discovered the reality was even worse. I was receiving emails from mothers who knew they had a convicted paedophile in their area and did not know what to do to protect their children.

It was my job to find a solution. I knew that if I could protect at least one child, I would have accomplished my mission. The solution was to create a completely new law, even though it would undergo a more strenuous road through the parliamentary process.

I wanted to have a law that could be enforced without delay. Resistance to change was instant: "It cannot be done", "We have no power", "The law doesn't allow it". But for me, this was about lives being saved.

The idea that the registry would be public was completely dismissed. There were concerns about the right to privacy and data protection. Fortunately, my solution did not violate these rights.

Walking the walk, from bill to law

With each passing day, the mothers’ emails I had received weighed even heavier on my heart and mind. I needed to get to the point where I could say: "Okay, this is a step forward — we have the register." I had to stick to the plan.

Too many aspects of getting a law made depend on how well Legislature and the Executive cooperate when serving the people.

Many discussions took place, but the decisive one eventually came about. It took five hours, eight male leaders and experts from the Internal Affairs and Police, another MP and one Oana Bizgan, the independent who wants to make laws.

It was clear from the beginning we were from different worlds. I kept wondering “Where did they hide the women?” I imagine they were wondering “What is she doing here?”

I learned a lot from that meeting. There were fierce negotiations involving many ups and downs. One moment I was convinced the discussion finished, that I had won the argument. But 15 minutes later, I was five steps back from where we started.

I realised people would try to put me in a box. Two options remained: either they were with me or they are against me. Yet in the end, they were with me. The battle was far from being easy, and this was not the moment to let my guard down.

My strength is showing courage in times of adversity because I know the "Why" of what I am doing

We continued to work together, laying the groundwork for a functional register. Suddenly I was experiencing a new feeling —  that of breaking down a wall.

That wall is often referred to in discourses of “us versus them”. It is a wall that has seen a lot throughout human history: wars, communist revolution, humanitarian crises, political turmoil and so on.

Until then, I was under the impression that all I could do with this kind of resistance to change was work around it, but this time, I managed to get through the barrier. When this happens, you go from fighting for one step forward to taking 10 in one go.

My strength is showing courage in times of adversity because I know the ”Why” of what I am doing. Of course, there is a huge pressure on me and my team to deliver. I have to motivate my troops sometimes even when there is no hope.

Now, when waiting for the vote from Parliament, my team shields me. When I go through hard times, the team follows me through them. I'm grateful for the people I have by my side when going into battle.

The vote for the change in law eventually passed, unanimously. I knew that by that end of the day I would probably collapse. But until then, I told myself  “Oana, you can still do a little more”.

With my last surge of energy, I took the stand to say thank you to all the people behind the project and the politicians whose trust I won. It is crucial to thank people, both for the project and for the change they made in me.

 Know what you are fighting for

Politics is, for me, not a game of self-interest.You can be honest with yourself and others in politics, and you can of course love what you do. But more than anything, you need resilience. You need the energy to knock down the wall whenever it is needed.

Being vulnerable is normal, but my strength lies in showing my true value. It is my ability to know when to compromise and when to stand firm. I am a believer you can only succeed by leading with your heart and your brains.

When the “Why” is clear, no storm can run you off course. When you show that you are human, your team will stand by your side.When you persist together, as one, the wall shatters.

I love what I do, and I will keep doing it, no matter how tall that wall is.

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