1 /5 Neriah Tolliver: Let me begin by apologizing for the length of this review, but every word here is necessary. I feel compelled to share my deeply disappointing, frustrating, and frankly infuriating experience with this district attorneys office so that others who come to them in a moment of vulnerability will be forewarned. Simply put, if you are a victim seeking support or justice, brace yourself, because you’re about to encounter indifference and incompetence on a level that I never thought possible from an organization sworn to serve and protect.
I was assaulted on September 30, 2021. It is now November 7, 2024. Yes, you read that correctly—three long years. For three years, I have begged, pleaded, and chased this office for something as simple, as *basic*, as a victims’ questionnaire. A form that would allow me to officially describe what happened to me and to communicate the devastating impact this crime has had on my life. But it seems that such a simple task is beyond their capabilities. I honestly believe this office, with all its resources, has caused me more pain, frustration, and despair than the original crime itself. And that is not something I say lightly.
Time after time, I have called to ask for the victim’s advocate. And time after time, I am told she’s not available. Each interaction is a dead end. I wait days, then weeks, hoping for a callback or even the slightest acknowledgment. Nothing. It’s as if the staff here are ghosts—always unreachable, always unavailable. And each time I muster up the energy to call, I explain, again and again, that my address has changed and that I still have not received the questionnaire. Every time, they assure me that it’s being mailed “immediately.” But it never arrives. Six months of waiting. Three years of broken promises. Every phone call, every assurance, every “we’ll send it out today” is a lie that leaves me feeling utterly dismissed and invalidated.
I am convinced that the women who run this office—who should be advocates, supporters, defenders of justice—have no understanding or empathy for what it means to be a victim. Their behavior suggests they are either grossly incompetent, disturbingly apathetic, or even worse, that they actively don’t care. If they had ever known the devastation, humiliation, and trauma that comes from being a victim, there is no way they would treat me, or anyone else in my position, with this callous disregard. The level of carelessness, bordering on cruelty, that I have experienced makes me feel as though this office is not on my side at all, but instead, seems more invested in obstructing any hope of justice.
It’s maddening and surreal. I served in the military, and even my representative from the Army—someone who doesn’t even work in this office—has put in more effort to get answers for me. He has seen what this endless cycle of neglect has done to me. Yet despite his attempts to intervene and support me, it’s as if nothing can penetrate this wall of indifference. Every attempt to get information, to make any sort of progress, is met with excuses, empty promises, and a complete lack of accountability.
I want justice for what was done to me. I want my voice heard. I want my suffering acknowledged. But this office, this organization that claims to promote justice, has done nothing but compound my suffering, making me feel powerless, invisible, and unworthy of the very justice they are supposed to uphold. The sheer exhaustion of dealing with them has left me questioning if pursuing charges is even worth the agony of dealing with this miserable excuse for a district attorney’s office. If they think they are serving victims, let me be the first to say: they have failed, utterly and completely.
