Last month, the story of the Liberian girl raped by a group of young boys in Phoenix made international headlines. It's the type of story that sells papers, with its eye-catching themes of immigration, sex, tribalism, war and poverty. Especially in Arizona, where the largest minority population is from Mexico, this crime harkened a foray into uncharted territory. Given the state's proclivity for intolerance and racial profiling, I braced myself for an onslaught of anti-Liberian sentiment and misinformed stereotyping. Imagine my surprise to instead witness an outpouring of support by the general public – both for the victim and for her community.

At first, it seemed I would have positive news to report. Last week, the Maricopa County Attorney's Office met with the deputy Liberian Ambassador to the United States, Edward Sele. Sent directly by the Liberian president, Sele expressed empathy for the victim and the involved families while proclaiming his outrage over the crime committed. He took a firm stand on the issue of rape, declaring it to be absolutely unacceptable in his own country.

A public relations victory for the Liberian government has not, however, produced greater justice for the nation’s former compatriots. The defendants – those boys aged 9 to 14 who are charged with kidnapping, sexual assault, and in the case of the eldest, sexually assaulting a minor - apparently voluntarily waived their rights to having their parents or legal guardians present during their interrogation.

One wonders how that voluntary waver played out – and how it can even hold water in court. As one Phoenix defense attorney has pointed out, “the only thing a 9-year old can wave is his hand.” Police insist that the boys were read their Miranda rights, but what could this possibly mean in a 9-year old boy’s mind? Phoenix police Sgt. Andy Hill claims that young suspects “generally prefer that their parents not be present,” – which one has to seriously doubt. Under what possible circumstances would any child prefer to talk to the police on their own? I have a ten year old cousin who until recently was too shy to even place her own order at a restaurant, much less testify in a jail cell. A human rights expert with extensive experience in Africa also notes the intense fear that a Liberian refugee in particular would likely have of the police force. Even if they had understood that they legally had rights, would they have assumed it was dangerous to press for them? And especially in a culture known for its emphasis on respecting one’s elders, what child would arrogantly insist on their right to an attorney?

Perhaps the process was made easier by the fact that the boys appear to lack parents or legal guardians. The two youngest are second cousins who live with an aunt as their parents are still in Africa. She is not their legal guardian. Another lives with an aunt and uncle – family members to whom the Department of Child Protective Services may refuse to return the boy because the couple does not have any other children.

Another human rights advocate who works with local Liberian leaders points out that the oldest boy’s English level is far too poor to comprehend legalese. The exact age of the boys is also under question due to conflicting documents. Further muddying the waters, it has emerged that the girl claims she was raped by only one of the boys.

Yet despite such irregularities, the wheels of our justice system roll swiftly on. The Arizona Republic reported that, “The two youngest boys went to court Wednesday morning looking like elementary-school children - except for the handcuffs and leg irons. One of the boys shrugged and cried when the judge noted an award he'd been given for schoolwork in jail…The other was so tiny that his head barely showed above his chair at the defense table. He nearly tripped on his chains as a deputy led him from the courtroom.”

The oldest is already going to be tried as an adult; prosecutors are pushing for the second eldest to be tried as an adult also. If convicted, they will spend the rest of their lives in prison.

The outrage in Phoenix has slipped from anger over the victim’s father’s initial reaction of shunning her to one of anger over the obvious misappropriation of justice. How do we truly know what happened in that shed? How can a 9 year old boy truly rape a 9 year old girl? How do we know that the boys weren’t play-acting, recreating horrific scenes of violence that they may have often witnessed in their home country? Is this act legally, physically and psychologically similar to acts of rape committed by adults? Certainly, there needs to be a punishment, but to try a child as an adult and throw his life away exhibits a lack of proportionality, a lack of reason, and a startling lack of justice.

To prove a point about the defense of women, the prosecutor’s office has forgotten an equally important mission: to defend the rights of an abused or traumatized child. Sadly, having fled one land of insanity, it seems the Liberian community simply jumped into another.