Warning: This story includes details of a sexual assault
In a moment the judge would later describe as “powerful,” Muluba Habanyama looked at the man who had been found guilty of sexually assaulting her and addressed him directly.
“I have had to hear your name repeatedly since 2016. I imagine you feel powerful that you have had that effect on me. I want you to never forget my name,” Habanyama said, holding back tears as she read her victim impact statement at the sentencing hearing earlier this year for ex-massage therapist Fernando Vigon-Campuzano.
“Do you know my name? My name is Muluba Habanyama. Muluba Habanyama, Muluba Habanyama, Muluba Habanyama. Remember my name, remember my face, remember that I told them all what you did to me and I refused to let you get away with violating me. Now, imagine how powerful I feel that I have this effect on you.”
It had been four years since Habanyama treated herself to a massage at a Mississauga clinic, only to be sexually assaulted. Vigon-Campuzano was found guilty of that assault by Superior Court Justice David E. Harris, as well as for sexually assaulting another female client.
He was sentenced in September to 13 months in jail, though remains on bail pending an appeal. (His lawyer, Jennifer Myers, said neither she nor Vigon-Campuzano could comment for this story given the outstanding appeal.)
Habanyama, 27, is speaking out publicly for the first time about the assault. By doing so, she said she’s taking back control of her identity and story, having requested the judge lift the standard publication ban on her name.
“I have been living with this for over four years now. I wanted people to be aware of what’s going on out there. I was done hiding, done being quiet,” she said in an interview with the Star. “I was ready to be Muluba and tell my story that it was not my fault.”
Her story is about navigating a complex system as a sexual assault complainant and of facing her abuser. But it’s also about feeling let down by public institutions.
Let down by a court that delivered what she feels was too lenient a sentence on her abuser. And let down by a regulatory body — the College of Massage Therapists of Ontario — that handled behind closed doors a complaint about Vigon-Campuzano “inappropriately” touching an undercover investigator in 2014.
The college allowed Vigon-Campuzano to continue to practise in a secret decision rendered almost two years before Habanyama’s assault.
“When it comes to the college, I’m always going to think this could have been prevented,” Habanyama said. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over that.”
According to Harris’ ruling finding Vigon-Campuzano guilty of sexual assault, Habanyama testified that he pressed into her vaginal area with his hands during the massage and inserted two or three fingers into her vagina. She testified she was shocked and confused, and that she told Vigon-Campuzano to stop.
Habanyama, who has been public about being HIV-positive, said her chronic condition combined with stress meant that she often had body aches, and she was treating herself to a massage that day after finding out she was to be her class valedictorian.
She highlighted in her victim impact statement that at the time of the assault, she weighed only 96 pounds — “I was not healthy like I am today” — and that she trusted Vigon-Campuzano as a licensed massage therapist.
In his sentencing ruling, the judge found that perhaps the most aggravating feature of the case was “the exploitation of a sick woman.” Harris noted that Vigon-Campuzano would have been aware of Habanyama’s condition given that it was on her file at the clinic.
“She had more than enough to contend with without being the object of sexual predations by a person who was hired to assist in restoring her precarious health,” the judge wrote.
Habanyama filed a complaint in 2016 against Vigon-Campuzano with the College of Massage Therapists. She said that in October of that year, she learned from the college that Vigon-Campuzano had agreed to surrender his licence, which meant he would not face a public discipline hearing over her complaint.
“I said that’s great he’s not going to be able to do this to other people, but what’s the discipline? Is he going to be punished for that?” she said.
The college’s handling of her complaint was part of the reason she decided to also report the massage therapist to the police.
“I’m a Black woman, I’m not necessarily always trying to go to the police for things, so I had to just think ‘Do I want this to go further? Am I ready to do more?’” she said.
The college did not respond directly to questions from the Star about its handling of Habanyama’s complaint, saying it is restricted under provincial legislation in terms of information it can share publicly.
In 2017, Habanyama learned from police that more women had come forward with allegations against Vigon-Campuzano. (Four other counts of sexual assault involving a different group of complainants were withdrawn this year against Vigon-Campuzano.)
It was also in 2017 that Habanyama read an article in the Toronto Star highlighting Vigon-Campuzano’s prior history with the college, namely that a female undercover investigator reported being touched “inappropriately” after going to see Vigon-Campuzano following a public complaint.
A brief mention of the 2014 incident was included in an undertaking posted on Vigon-Campuzano’s college profile after he surrendered his licence in 2016, but Habanyama said the college never alerted her to it.
“I was so mad, so disgusted. Like what the hell? What is the point of having the college and having investigators?” she said. “The investigator went in before I did…And I’m thinking ‘Why in the world is he still practising normally?’”
The news was so upsetting, it sent her into another bout of depression.
Vigon-Campuzano was cautioned by the college’s complaints committee over the 2014 incident and told to take additional training.
A confidential complaints committee decision, obtained by the Star, shows that the undercover female investigator was sent in after the college received a complaint from a woman who said she felt uncomfortable that Vigon-Campuzano draped her in a way that sometimes exposed sensitive areas.
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The undercover investigator reported that Vigon-Campuzano “touched her inappropriately when he worked very close to the genital area,” according to the complaints committee decision.
While the committee found the concerns about his conduct to be “serious and require significant action,” it chose not to send the case to a public discipline hearing because the committee concluded it didn’t appear Vigon-Campuzano had a “sexual intent.”
The law at the time only allowed colleges to post allegations about a member if the case was sent to a discipline hearing. Because that didn’t happen, no information about the incident was posted to Vigon-Campuzano’s profile until he surrendered his licence two years later.
Under a 2017 law, colleges must now post more information about members, including cautions and orders for additional training.
The college referred to its previous statement sent in response to prior Star coverage of the case, in which the regulator acknowledged “that the process and our actions would likely have been very different if the new provincial legislation had been in place at the time of the original investigation in 2014. We are sorry this happened.”
The college also said it sent letters to formally apologize to the complainants in 2017, but Habanyama said she never heard from them. On Friday, following questions from the Star to the college, Habanyama said she received an emailed letter from the college dated Dec. 13, 2017.
The letter, from college registrar and CEO Corinne Flitton, expresses “sincere apologies…for the actions of Fernando Vigon-Campuzano.”
As experts point out, there was nothing in the old legislation that prevented the college from sending the 2014 case to a discipline hearing, thereby notifying the public of the allegations. The case is indicative of wider problems that persisted for years in the health college system with the handling of sexual abuse complaints, they say.
“Keeping things under cover, particularly dealing with issues of potential sexual assault, is not acting in the public interest,” said medical malpractice lawyer Paul Harte. “There were challenges with the legislation, but it meant it was incumbent upon them to refer it to discipline to ensure that the public would be notified about these allegations.”
The court case against Vigon-Campuzano would prove to be a series of highs and lows for Habanyama. Her stomach was in knots as she listened to Harris read his verdict in January this year, not knowing which way the judge was going to go. When he got to the end and pronounced a guilty verdict, she said she was so happy she was hopping outside the courtroom afterward.
“Of course days later I was thinking what a privilege, because the justice system doesn’t always have people’s backs, and I know assault survivors question whether they should come forward,” she said.
Then in September, Habanyama watched via Zoom as Vigon-Campuzano was sentenced to 13 months in jail for the assault on her and the other victim — 6.5 months for each — which again left Habanyama feeling deflated. Even more so a few weeks later when she found out Vigon-Campuzano was appealing and released on bail.
“I had remembered years ago one of the police officers told me that when you actually see him handcuffed, you’re going to feel better,” she said.
But after the judge left, the last thing Habanyama said she saw was Vigon-Campuzano talking to his family in the courtroom and the registrar saying they were ending the Zoom call.
“I thought, ‘Oh, I didn’t even get that,’” she said.
The sentencing and the college’s handling of the case have left her disillusioned. But she said she’s still open to talking to the college, and to work with them on improving how they support victims.
Ultimately, she wants people to know she doesn’t regret coming forward.
“I would have always wondered ‘what if?’ I’m not happy with the outcome, but I don’t regret coming forward and doing the process because that’s what I needed for me,” she said.
“I would never tell another sexual assault survivor which process they need to do. I can only say think about you as a person and what you want and need.”
In a moment the judge would later describe as “powerful,” Muluba Habanyama looked at the man who had been found guilty of sexually assaulting her and addressed him directly.
“I have had to hear your name repeatedly since 2016. I imagine you feel powerful that you have had that effect on me. I want you to never forget my name,” Habanyama said, holding back tears as she read her victim impact statement at the sentencing hearing earlier this year for ex-massage therapist Fernando Vigon-Campuzano.
“Do you know my name? My name is Muluba Habanyama. Muluba Habanyama, Muluba Habanyama, Muluba Habanyama. Remember my name, remember my face, remember that I told them all what you did to me and I refused to let you get away with violating me. Now, imagine how powerful I feel that I have this effect on you.”
It had been four years since Habanyama treated herself to a massage at a Mississauga clinic, only to be sexually assaulted. Vigon-Campuzano was found guilty of that assault by Superior Court Justice David E. Harris, as well as for sexually assaulting another female client.
He was sentenced in September to 13 months in jail, though remains on bail pending an appeal. (His lawyer, Jennifer Myers, said neither she nor Vigon-Campuzano could comment for this story given the outstanding appeal.)
Habanyama, 27, is speaking out publicly for the first time about the assault. By doing so, she said she’s taking back control of her identity and story, having requested the judge lift the standard publication ban on her name.
“I have been living with this for over four years now. I wanted people to be aware of what’s going on out there. I was done hiding, done being quiet,” she said in an interview with the Star. “I was ready to be Muluba and tell my story that it was not my fault.”
Her story is about navigating a complex system as a sexual assault complainant and of facing her abuser. But it’s also about feeling let down by public institutions.
Let down by a court that delivered what she feels was too lenient a sentence on her abuser. And let down by a regulatory body — the College of Massage Therapists of Ontario — that handled behind closed doors a complaint about Vigon-Campuzano “inappropriately” touching an undercover investigator in 2014.
The college allowed Vigon-Campuzano to continue to practise in a secret decision rendered almost two years before Habanyama’s assault.
“When it comes to the college, I’m always going to think this could have been prevented,” Habanyama said. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over that.”
According to Harris’ ruling finding Vigon-Campuzano guilty of sexual assault, Habanyama testified that he pressed into her vaginal area with his hands during the massage and inserted two or three fingers into her vagina. She testified she was shocked and confused, and that she told Vigon-Campuzano to stop.
Habanyama, who has been public about being HIV-positive, said her chronic condition combined with stress meant that she often had body aches, and she was treating herself to a massage that day after finding out she was to be her class valedictorian.
She highlighted in her victim impact statement that at the time of the assault, she weighed only 96 pounds — “I was not healthy like I am today” — and that she trusted Vigon-Campuzano as a licensed massage therapist.
In his sentencing ruling, the judge found that perhaps the most aggravating feature of the case was “the exploitation of a sick woman.” Harris noted that Vigon-Campuzano would have been aware of Habanyama’s condition given that it was on her file at the clinic.
“She had more than enough to contend with without being the object of sexual predations by a person who was hired to assist in restoring her precarious health,” the judge wrote.
Habanyama filed a complaint in 2016 against Vigon-Campuzano with the College of Massage Therapists. She said that in October of that year, she learned from the college that Vigon-Campuzano had agreed to surrender his licence, which meant he would not face a public discipline hearing over her complaint.
“I said that’s great he’s not going to be able to do this to other people, but what’s the discipline? Is he going to be punished for that?” she said.
The college’s handling of her complaint was part of the reason she decided to also report the massage therapist to the police.
“I’m a Black woman, I’m not necessarily always trying to go to the police for things, so I had to just think ‘Do I want this to go further? Am I ready to do more?’” she said.
The college did not respond directly to questions from the Star about its handling of Habanyama’s complaint, saying it is restricted under provincial legislation in terms of information it can share publicly.
In 2017, Habanyama learned from police that more women had come forward with allegations against Vigon-Campuzano. (Four other counts of sexual assault involving a different group of complainants were withdrawn this year against Vigon-Campuzano.)
It was also in 2017 that Habanyama read an article in the Toronto Star highlighting Vigon-Campuzano’s prior history with the college, namely that a female undercover investigator reported being touched “inappropriately” after going to see Vigon-Campuzano following a public complaint.
A brief mention of the 2014 incident was included in an undertaking posted on Vigon-Campuzano’s college profile after he surrendered his licence in 2016, but Habanyama said the college never alerted her to it.
“I was so mad, so disgusted. Like what the hell? What is the point of having the college and having investigators?” she said. “The investigator went in before I did…And I’m thinking ‘Why in the world is he still practising normally?’”
The news was so upsetting, it sent her into another bout of depression.
Vigon-Campuzano was cautioned by the college’s complaints committee over the 2014 incident and told to take additional training.
A confidential complaints committee decision, obtained by the Star, shows that the undercover female investigator was sent in after the college received a complaint from a woman who said she felt uncomfortable that Vigon-Campuzano draped her in a way that sometimes exposed sensitive areas.
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The undercover investigator reported that Vigon-Campuzano “touched her inappropriately when he worked very close to the genital area,” according to the complaints committee decision.
While the committee found the concerns about his conduct to be “serious and require significant action,” it chose not to send the case to a public discipline hearing because the committee concluded it didn’t appear Vigon-Campuzano had a “sexual intent.”
The law at the time only allowed colleges to post allegations about a member if the case was sent to a discipline hearing. Because that didn’t happen, no information about the incident was posted to Vigon-Campuzano’s profile until he surrendered his licence two years later.
Under a 2017 law, colleges must now post more information about members, including cautions and orders for additional training.
The college referred to its previous statement sent in response to prior Star coverage of the case, in which the regulator acknowledged “that the process and our actions would likely have been very different if the new provincial legislation had been in place at the time of the original investigation in 2014. We are sorry this happened.”
The college also said it sent letters to formally apologize to the complainants in 2017, but Habanyama said she never heard from them. On Friday, following questions from the Star to the college, Habanyama said she received an emailed letter from the college dated Dec. 13, 2017.
The letter, from college registrar and CEO Corinne Flitton, expresses “sincere apologies…for the actions of Fernando Vigon-Campuzano.”
As experts point out, there was nothing in the old legislation that prevented the college from sending the 2014 case to a discipline hearing, thereby notifying the public of the allegations. The case is indicative of wider problems that persisted for years in the health college system with the handling of sexual abuse complaints, they say.
“Keeping things under cover, particularly dealing with issues of potential sexual assault, is not acting in the public interest,” said medical malpractice lawyer Paul Harte. “There were challenges with the legislation, but it meant it was incumbent upon them to refer it to discipline to ensure that the public would be notified about these allegations.”
The court case against Vigon-Campuzano would prove to be a series of highs and lows for Habanyama. Her stomach was in knots as she listened to Harris read his verdict in January this year, not knowing which way the judge was going to go. When he got to the end and pronounced a guilty verdict, she said she was so happy she was hopping outside the courtroom afterward.
“Of course days later I was thinking what a privilege, because the justice system doesn’t always have people’s backs, and I know assault survivors question whether they should come forward,” she said.
Then in September, Habanyama watched via Zoom as Vigon-Campuzano was sentenced to 13 months in jail for the assault on her and the other victim — 6.5 months for each — which again left Habanyama feeling deflated. Even more so a few weeks later when she found out Vigon-Campuzano was appealing and released on bail.
“I had remembered years ago one of the police officers told me that when you actually see him handcuffed, you’re going to feel better,” she said.
But after the judge left, the last thing Habanyama said she saw was Vigon-Campuzano talking to his family in the courtroom and the registrar saying they were ending the Zoom call.
“I thought, ‘Oh, I didn’t even get that,’” she said.
The sentencing and the college’s handling of the case have left her disillusioned. But she said she’s still open to talking to the college, and to work with them on improving how they support victims.
Ultimately, she wants people to know she doesn’t regret coming forward.
“I would have always wondered ‘what if?’ I’m not happy with the outcome, but I don’t regret coming forward and doing the process because that’s what I needed for me,” she said.
“I would never tell another sexual assault survivor which process they need to do. I can only say think about you as a person and what you want and need.”