Imagine being a defenseless four-year-old, thrown violently into a radiator, the pain searing through your small body. The person who should be offering comfort and love instead towers over you, delivering another blow. This was the chilling reality of Caroline Eshghi's childhood, a period dominated by the abuse inflicted by her own mother, Melanie Burmingham.
The abuse, as Caroline recalls, started at the tender age of four. It wasn't just the physical violence, but the constant fear, the feeling of being trapped in a nightmare with no escape. The memories are seared into her mind, a constant reminder of the betrayal and the loss of innocence.
Years passed, filled with untold suffering. Caroline endured the abuse in silence, terrified of what her mother might do if she ever dared to speak out. The trauma remained buried deep within her, a dark secret she carried for decades, a heavy burden on her young shoulders.
Finally, after years of silence, Caroline found the courage to report her mother to the police in 2019, triggered by Burmingham's attempt to contact Caroline's eldest son. This act of protecting her own child marked a turning point, a reclaiming of power after years of subjugation.
The legal process that followed was a stark reminder of the complexities of justice, particularly when dealing with historical crimes. Melanie Burmingham, then 76, pleaded guilty to one count of cruelty to a person under 16, a charge under the Children and Young Persons Act of 1933.
The initial sentence, a mere 20 months suspended, felt like a slap in the face to Caroline. It seemed to minimize the years of pain and suffering she had endured. Fueled by a sense of injustice, she appealed the decision.
Fortunately, her appeal was successful. Lord Justice Stuart-Smith recognized the initial sentence as "unduly lenient" and upgraded it to a custodial sentence. While this was a victory, it also highlighted the limitations of the legal system when dealing with historical crimes.
Because Caroline's abuse occurred in the 1970s and 80s, the sentencing was governed by the laws in place at that time. The Children and Young Persons Act of 1933, under which Burmingham was charged, carried a maximum sentence of only two years. This is in stark contrast to current legislation, which carries a minimum term of nine years and a maximum of 14.
The principle that historically committed crimes are sentenced according to the laws in effect at the time of the offense is a cornerstone of legal systems. However, it can lead to situations where the punishment seems inadequate when viewed through the lens of modern societal values and understanding of child abuse.
This discrepancy is precisely what Caroline is now campaigning to change. She believes that the law should be amended to allow for more severe sentences for historical child abuse cases, reflecting the gravity of the crimes and the long-lasting impact on victims.
Adding insult to injury, Burmingham is due to be released on parole in January 2026, after serving only 40 percent of her sentence. This prospect fills Caroline with renewed anger and a determination to fight for change.
Caroline's story is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the enduring power of hope. Speaking to The Sun, she expressed her outrage at the leniency of the sentence, stating, "It was an absolute insult that she got such a short sentence."
She further emphasized the need for reform, asserting, "Our judicial system is out of step in reflecting society values around those who commit child abuse. It needs to catch up with changes made to legislation so that those who hurt children face the strongest sentencing guidelines and prison.’’
The memories of the abuse remain vivid and horrifying. One of Caroline's earliest recollections is being held in a freezing bath, her head forced underwater, gasping for air. This chilling image encapsulates the cruelty and control that defined her childhood.
"She was like a Gestapo officer," Caroline recounts, "ordering me to do chores and then beating me as they were never right." The constant fear of punishment, the arbitrary nature of the abuse, created an environment of terror and helplessness.
The physical abuse was relentless. "I had my hair ripped out, I was punched and kicked almost daily," Caroline remembers. The violence escalated, leaving her constantly injured and emotionally scarred.
Recalling the incident where she was drop-kicked into a radiator, Caroline describes the scene with chilling clarity. "When I was four, I remember Melanie drop-kicking me out of nowhere down a flight of stairs, and I smacked into a radiator. It was a big L-shaped hallway, and she kicked me from one end to the other."
The pain was excruciating, but the terror was even worse. "I screamed in pain and terror, but she continued to kick me. Afterwards, I was peeing blood," she recounts. The image of her mother's face, "twisted in a demonic rage," remains etched in her memory.
The abuse worsened when the family moved to a detached house, where Burmingham felt free to unleash her cruelty without fear of being overheard. "Melanie was a monster. I don’t have a single good memory from the 15-and-a-half years I lived with her," Caroline says.
The instability of their living situation further isolated Caroline. "We moved over 20 times, so I was isolated while she continued her tirade of abuse," she explains. This constant uprooting prevented her from forming lasting relationships and seeking help from others.
Burmingham's alcoholism fueled her violent outbursts. "She was an alcoholic and went into these alcohol-fueled rampages that would last all night," Caroline recalls. These episodes were unpredictable and terrifying, leaving her constantly on edge.
The abuse took many forms, each one designed to inflict maximum pain and humiliation. "She made me hold my arm out and if it dropped, she stubbed out her cigarettes on me – this started when I was nine," Caroline reveals.
Another form of torture involved a walking stick. "She’d sit in an armchair with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a big knotted walking stick in the other. She’d beat me with it across my back. I was permanently covered in bruises and welts," Caroline recounts. The physical scars were a constant reminder of the abuse, a visible manifestation of her inner pain.
Despite the obvious signs of abuse, the authorities failed to intervene. A PE teacher noticed Caroline's bruises when she was 12, but no action was taken. "I felt embarrassed and ashamed that someone knew my secret. But nothing was done," Caroline says. This failure of the system to protect her compounded the trauma she experienced.
Social services were alerted to the abuse as early as 1975, but Caroline claims that her case was never properly investigated. "She was under Avon and Bristol social services, but cannot get access to her file as it has reportedly been lost," Caroline explains.
Even a hospital visit in 1977, where a doctor documented injuries consistent with assault, failed to trigger intervention. "Melanie had beaten me with a metal wire, leaving cuts across my face. A social worker asked if she beat me, and I said no because I was scared of what Melanie would do," Caroline recalls.
This fear of retaliation silenced Caroline, preventing her from seeking the help she desperately needed. From that point forward, she claims that no one in authority ever checked her body for further abuse injuries, allowing the abuse to continue unchecked.
Despite her own experiences, Caroline still believes in the importance of social services. "We cannot expect Social Services and charities to hold all the responsibility, the problem within our society is too big," Caroline states. She recognizes the challenges faced by social workers, acknowledging that "they are staffed by warriors who do what they can to save children and families in crisis. Sadly, when they get it wrong, it can have catastrophic results."
Caroline's aunt, who provided a temporary refuge from the abuse, ultimately failed to support her decision to report her mother to the police. "The time I spent with her family was like a dream because I wasn’t living in fear for those days," Caroline says. However, when she confided in her aunt about wanting to report the abuse, she was met with resistance. "She went ballistic and told me that if I went to the police, I’d no longer be a part of the family. It shut me down completely," Caroline explains. This rejection further delayed her journey towards justice.
Now, as a mother herself, Caroline struggles to comprehend her own mother's behavior and the inaction of those who knew about the abuse. She is determined to prevent other children from experiencing similar injustices and to ensure that abusers are held accountable for their actions.
The Office for National Statistics (ONS) estimates that one in five adults between the ages of 18 and 74 were abused as a child or witnessed abuse. This staggering statistic highlights the widespread nature of child abuse and the urgent need for societal change.
As an ambassador for the NSPCC, Caroline is actively campaigning to change the law, advocating for abusers to be sentenced under current guidelines, regardless of when the abuse occurred. She hopes that by sharing her story, she can empower other survivors to come forward and seek justice.
If you suspect a child is being abused, there are signs to look out for, including unexplained changes in behavior, lack of social skills, inappropriate knowledge of adult issues, and a tendency to wear clothes that cover their body. If you are concerned, you can contact the NSPCC Helpline by calling .
Caroline's efforts are being supported by her MP, Andrew George, who has raised her campaign with the government. He recognizes the immense courage she has shown in reopening old wounds and fighting for justice. He stated, "Caroline has demonstrated incredible strength of character to reopen the wounds of the past, and to face the consequences of a system which seems as if it is deliberately designed to discourage the pursuit of justice and to put obstacles in the way of victims who seek justice."
George also emphasized the need to address the inconsistencies in the legal system, arguing that "Child cruelty is child cruelty, and punishment must reflect public disgust towards perpetrators." He believes that the current system is "more lenient towards child abusers who commit their crimes before a certain date," a disparity that needs to be rectified.
You can support Caroline's campaign by signing her change.org petition to amend the law around historic child abuse. Together, we can create a society that protects children and holds abusers accountable for their actions.