In what can be termed as an extremely questionable interpretation of law, a judgement of the Punjab and Haryana High Court, while quashing a case filed under section 498A of the IPC against a male, remarks that the section was being used as a weapon instead of a shield by “disgruntled wives”. This not only takes jurisprudence back by decades but also sets a dreadful precedence in gender issues. There are always possibilities that in a given case an emancipatory section of the law may have been misused. To use an instance, if at all, to make generalisations on the law itself retards space and growth of gender sensitised jurisprudence. Since the amendment of the law to insert this amendment in 1983, this push back has been a norm.

498 A – inception and significance

Section 498A was inserted in the IPC in 1983 in order to protect married women from cruelty of her husband and his relatives. The section states as follows:

498A. Husband or relative of husband of a woman subjecting her to cruelty.—Whoever, being the husband or the relative of the husband of a woman, subjects such woman to cruelty shall be punished with imprisonment for a term which may extend to three years and shall also be liable to fine. Explanation.—For the purpose of this section, “cruelty” means—

(a) any wilful conduct which is of such a nature as is likely to drive the woman to commit suicide or to cause grave injury or danger to life, limb or health (whether mental or physical) of the woman; or

(b) harassment of the woman where such harassment is with a view to coercing her or any person related to her to meet any unlawful demand for any property or valuable security or is on account of failure by her or any person related to her to meet such demand.]

Clearly, the word cruelty has been given a wider meaning and scope in this section so as to protect women from domestic abuse and dowry related cruelty. The objective was to deal with the menace of dowry deaths and harassment of married women.

The section was inserted to address the lacuna in law despite the Dowry Prohibition Act, 1961 in place. The alarming rise in dowry deaths resulted in women’s rights movement in 1970s and 1980s to bring marital cruelty under the ambit of criminal law.

In fact, the court has even protected the second wife under the purview of this section. In Reema Aggarwal v. Anupam, (2004) 3 SCC 199), the Supreme Court had held, “…The legislature has taken care of children born from invalid marriages. Section 16 of the Marriage Act deals with legitimacy of children of void and voidable marriages. Can it be said that the legislature which was conscious of the social stigma attached to children of void and voidable marriages closed its eyes to the plight of a woman who unknowingly or unconscious of the legal consequences entered into the marital relationship? If such restricted meaning is given, it would not further the legislative intent.”

The apex court has even explored the definition of the word “cruelty” and the subjectivity of the term. In G.V. Siddaramesh v. State of Karnataka, (2010 3 SCC 152) the court held “Cruelty can either be mental or physical. It is difficult to straitjacket the term cruelty by means of a definition because cruelty is a relative term. What constitutes cruelty for one person may not constitute cruelty for another person.”

The fact that the offence of cruelty under section 498A is cognizable, non-bailable and non-compoundable, shows the gravity of the offence and intention of the legislature to treat it as a serious offence.

Every law is subject to misuse by an individual and it is by some means collateral damage which is always a small percentage of cases registered under a particular offence. Naysayers will put up statistics of conviction rates in a particular offence to prove the misuse of law, but conviction rate is by no means proof of false case. More often than not the low conviction rate in a particular crime is owing to lack of substantial and conclusive evidence or apathetic or even inadequate investigation by the police.  

Rise in domestic violence

Cruelty is the most important element in cases of domestic violence. The definition of cruelty, in fact, encompasses all kinds of domestic violence. In Ramesh Dalaji Godad v. State of Gujarat (II (2004) DMC 124), the Supreme Court held that “it is not important to show or put forth that the woman was beaten up- abusing her verbally, denying her conjugal rights or even not speaking to her properly would fall into the ambit of mental cruelty”; thus bringing mental trauma under the ambit of cruelty and further widening the scope of domestic violence, instead of limiting it to physical abuse and assault.

Hence, a rise in incidents of domestic violence during lockdown, which means people spending most of their time at home, is worrisome. The World Health Organization (WHO) also raised concern on the rising cases stating that there is a 60% rise in these cases in Europe.

The story is no different back home. The Tribune reported that domestic violence cases have risen by 21% since lockdown. Tamil Nadu state government submitted to the High Court that since lockdown, more than 600 cases of domestic abuse have been registered in the state. It is pertinent to note, that the number of actual incidents is always more than reported incidents in such domestic offences.

498A Amendment preceded enactment of the India’s Domestic Violence Law

It took the Indian Parliament a dozen years after the insertion of this section in 1983 to enact the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act, 2005 [Act No 43 of 2005].  The brief introduction to this law states that it is “An Act to provide for more effective protection of the rights of women guaranteed under the Constitution who are victims of violence of any kind occurring within the family and formatters connected therewith or incidental thereto.”

Impact on jurisprudence

In a situation where domestic violence and abuse enjoys societal sanction even and discussions on marital rape are taboo, the remarks by the Punjab and Haryana High Court could set an unwarranted precedent. It was a single judge bench of (Justice) Jaishree Thakur even termed it as a “common practice to use provisions of section 498A IPC as a weapon rather than shield by disgruntled wives. The simplest way to harass is to get the relatives of the husband roped in under this provision…” such a statement coming from a high court not only discredits genuine cases of violence which are much higher in number than frivolous ones but also instills apathy in the police while dealing with such cases. Opinions voiced by high courts judges leave a lasting imprint on jurisprudence of crimes against women, making the fight against domestic abuse and, in general, gender-based crimes against women even harder.

Even the Supreme Court has not shied away from making such haphazard statements in what were deemed as false cases of cruelty against husband and his family members. In 2017, the apex court had, in Rajesh Kumar & Ors v. Sate of U.P. (2017 SCC OnLine SC 821), had given directions to set up Family Welfare Committees which would scrutinize any complaint under section 498A of IPC before the police could look into it. The law that was formulated for the protection of women was now being used to protect the interests of men, basis some sparse frivolous cases; thus, completely defeating the legislative intent. These directions were later withdrawn by the apex court in 2018 by a bench led by then CJI Dipak Misra. The bench accepted that such a committee would create an extrajudicial entity which has not been envisaged under the Criminal Procedure Code (CrPC). The bench also withdrew another guideline that gave a district judge the power to dispose of proceedings if the parties in a case reach a settlement, since the same was contradictory to the non-compoundable nature of the crime stipulated under the IPC.

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‘ Today, I have come out of my husband’s jail and entered the jail of the law’
Kiranjit Ahluwalia 1989

Kiranjit Ahluwalia and Rahila Gupta
Published by Harper Collins India 2007
ISBN 9788172236700

The Southall Black Sisters' Inspiring Campaign:

‘Today, I have come out of my husband’s jail and entered the jail of the law’
Kiranjit Ahluwalia 1989

This was our first case in which we supported and campaigned on behalf of a battered woman who had killed her husband.

Kiranjit Ahluwalia, an Asian woman, set fire to her husband Deepak in May 1989 after suffering abuse and brutality for 10 years. She was charged with murder and imprisoned for life. Her tariff was 12 years. We initially became involved at the time of her conviction at the request of Crawley Women’s Centre which was based in her home town of Crawley, Sussex. Following her conviction, Kiranjit was advised by her then legal team who represented her at her murder trial that there were no grounds for appeal. Initially we provided ancillary support – helping to transfer the custody of her two children from her mother-in-law to her sister and to support her in prison.

However, as we also strongly felt that a miscarriage of justice had occurred, we set about trying to re-open the criminal case. We were turned down by a number of criminal lawyers who felt that there was no new evidence to re-open her case. But eventually, we succeeded in obtaining the assistance of, Rohit Sanghvi, who often gave legal advise to SBS, and who without the benefit of legal aid, agreed to support us through the arduous process of assessing whether there were any grounds for appeal. We embarked on a lengthy exercise of getting a detailed statement from her which we hoped would provide the fresh evidence needed to form the basis of  a new appeal. Over the next two years, together with her new legal team we carried out detailed and painstaking work which led to the preparation of her grounds of appeal. On September 1991, Kiranjit was given leave to appeal on the basis of new evidence concerning her experiences of domestic violence and its impact on battered women and on the basis that the trial judge had misdirected the jury on the criminal law of provocation.

At her appeal hearing in July 1992 which was presided over by the then Lord Chief Justice, Taylor, Kiranjit’s barristers put forward new defences of provocation and diminished responsibility. Although the Court of Appeal rejected the grounds of provocation as a basis of her appeal, nevertheless it accepted that the defence of provocation, and in particular the requirement of a ‘sudden and temporary loss of self control’ had been traditionally interpreted in ways which excluded the experiences of battered women. It recognised the notion of cumulative provocation and also accepted that as a matter of law, the time  lapse between an act of provocation and the fatal act need not be construed as a  cooling-off period. Instead, the Court accepted that the time lapse could be seen as a ‘boiling over’ period and as a factual matter that could be left to the jury to determine. Kiranjit won her appeal on the grounds of diminished responsibility based on new psychiatric evidence of her long standing depression due to her experiences of violence and abuse. A retrial was ordered. However, at her new trial at the Old Bailey in London, in September 1992, the Crown accepted her plea of manslaughter on the basis of diminished responsibility and she was sentenced to three years and four months imprisonment, exactly the time she had already served. Kiranjit therefore walked out of Court a free woman to scenes of jubilation from the large number of supporters who had gathered outside the court.

Alongside the legal campaign, we campaigned and mobilised public opinion in our own communities and in the wider community through public meetings, pickets, demos and media coverage. Kiranjit became a household name. The campaign also joined forces with other women’s groups as part of a wider feminist campaign on battered women who kill and the criminal justice system and in doing so, highlighted the male bias of the criminal justice system and the criminal law that affects all women. For us, the campaign was a high point of feminist activity on violence against women. This case received support from unexpected quarters within our communities and did much to raise awareness of domestic violence and the plight of women trapped in such situations.

The book ‘PROVOKED: The story of Kiranjit Ahluwalia’, published by Harper Collins India is now available from Southall Black Sisters. It was previously published under the title ‘Circle of Light’, and has recently been made into a film, Provoked.

Order PROVOKED
For a detailed account of the Kiranjit Aluwalia and the Zoora Shah Campaign See ‘from homebreakers to jailbreakers’ SBS published by Zed Books 2003.
The legal debate on homicide

Although feminists hailed the judgment in Kiranjit’s case as a significant step forward in opening up the partial defence of provocation to women who kill, there was increasing disquiet that such cases blurred the distinction between diminished responsibility and provocation. The case of Morgan Smith went to the House of Lords in 2000 for clarification on this distinction. The campaigning organisation, Justice for Women and SBS made a joint intervention in this case because there was widespread concern that the progress that had been made in criminal law for abused women who had killed would be clawed back.

In 2003, the Government announced a review of the law of homicide in response to concerns about the law which had been expressed in a number of high profile cases like that of Kiranjit Ahluwalia, Emma Humphreys and Sara Thornton. The Law Commission published a consultation paper, Partial Defences to Murder.
In January 2009, the Government published the responses Summary of Responses and Government Position to its consultation on proposals for reform of the Homicide Act 1957. With regard to killings in a domestic context, their main proposal was to abolish the existing partial defence of provocation and replace it with two new partial defences of:  killing in response to a fear of serious violence; and (to apply only in exceptional circumstances) killing in response to words and conduct which caused the defendant to have a justifiable sense of being seriously wronged. Sexual infidelity on the part of the victim would not constitute grounds for reducing murder to manslaughter. It was also proposed that a new definition of diminished responsibility based on the concept of a “recognised medical condition” be introduced.

On 4 October 2010, the law of murder in England and Wales was changed as a result. The law of provocation was finally abolished in recognition of the fact that it was male biased and outdated. The Coroners and Justice Act 2009 introduced a new partial defence to murder known as ‘loss of control’. However, defendants still have to meet one of two qualifying triggers to show that the fatal act resulted in a loss of control: Either that they feared serious violence or that a thing or things said and done (or both) constituted circumstances of an extremely grave character and caused the defendant to have a justifiable sense of being seriously wronged. The main point is that the requirement of ‘suddeness’ was removed which made it easier for battered women to show that they acted as a result of slow burn rage. At the same time, factors such as sexual infidelity and a desire for revenge, traditionally excuses used by men who killed, would no longer be grounds for reducing murder to manslaughter.

Kiranjit’s was the first case in which Southall Black Sisters supported and campaigned on behalf of a battered woman who had killed her husband.
Born into a privileged family in India, Kiranjit Ahluwalia came to England in 1979 to be married to a man she hardly knew. The next ten year were to be a nightmare of almost daily, physical, mental and sexual violence at the hands of her husband. There was no one she could turn to for help and support. Domestic violence was a taboo subject for many Asians in Britain, and family honour was at stake for anyone who went outside the family for help. Kiranjit, in desperation, killed the man who had tortured her for so long. Bewildered, poorly advised and speaking little English, she was sentenced to life imprisonment for murder. In prison, she unexpectedly found a degree of freedom she had never known in the outside world. For the first time she was safe from beatings and abuse, and was able to enjoy the friendship and solidarity of other women who were in a similar situation.

It was the campaign organised by Southall Black Sisters, operating on a shoestring budget drew attention to her plight and gathered momentum. Media coverage of her case made Kiranjit something of a ’cause celebre’ and she attracted many prominent supporters, including Diana, Princess of Wales who urged her to write this book. She was released amid senses of rejoicing in September 1992 when her conviction for murder reduced to manslaughter on appeal. Regina v Ahluwalia has become legal history because it was a landmark ruling that paved the way for other women in Kiranjit’s situation to win justice.

The post Provoked: The story of Kiranjit Ahluwalia appeared first on SabrangIndia.

My reason for writing this narrative is that I want to face the demons. I want to make sense of the things that happened to me. But not just for me. I want people to know, especially the young girls and women who are conditioned to endure violence and who are silently fighting abuse.

After being treated unjustly for five years and after contemplating about it for over a year and a half, it’s only now that I could gather courage to tell my story to the world. I realise that by being silent I am not only accepting the injustice that happened to me but I am also supporting injustice happening to others.

Let me come straight to the point. I am a survivor of domestic abuse, both physical and mental, for over five years, until I ended the abusive relationship. It has been a longstanding struggle within me and with myself; whether or not to give voice to my lived experiences. Writing this narrative takes me back to horror chambers. I still tremble with the thought of the brutalities I endured. However arduous, I want to step up and speak out.

To the society that pretends it is a private matter, I want to say loud and clear that domestic abuse is real. It happens more frequently than we would like to believe. It happens across caste, class, religion and race. Education level of the abuser or  the abused doesn’t have  much impact on how badly you may be beaten up or for how long.

My reason for writing this narrative is that I want to face the demons. I want to make sense of the things that happened to me. But not just for me. I want people to know, especially the young girls and women who are conditioned to endure violence and who are silently fighting abuse. I want them to know that they are not alone in this fight.

To the society that pretends it is a private matter, I want to say loud and clear that domestic abuse is real. It happens more frequently than we would like to believe. It happens across caste, class, religion and race. Education level of the abuser or  the abused doesn’t have  much impact on how badly you may be beaten up or how long you will stay in that relationship before you get out, if you are able to get out at all. The physical and mental trauma undoubtedly has a long-lasting impact. As survivors, we may feel weak and feeble. But we shouldn’t blame ourselves and should courageously voice out the injustice.

I want to also establish that as much impact the ever pervasive violence has on my life, it does not define me. The person who abused me is just one of the many faceless aggressors around the world who has the same violent, manipulative and guilt-tripping traits.

Many educated young girls and women in our community fear and feel ashamed to come out as battered women. I want to plead to all those courageous women out there: don’t let your personal narratives be unheard, don’t be invisible, trapped in the statistics of domestic violence. Let the staggering figures have faces, speak out. Come forward with your stories in solidarity for those beautiful souls who are still struggling to make decisions. Don’t fight in silence.

Coming to my narrative, I have been in a relationship with a man I had known for many years. I respected him and placed my trust in him as a friend and a confidante. I was open to him about my life, my feelings, worries and doubts. However over the years, I started to realise that he used those pieces of my life to coerce me, humiliate me and to isolate me. I had always painted an image of him to be a socially conscientious and sensitive person believing in human rights and values. Every time he hit me, I would look at that instance of abuse as an exception, trying to uphold the image I had of him, until the exception became the norm.

I have been in a relationship with a man I had known for many years. I respected him and placed my trust in him as a friend and a confidante. I was open to him about my life, my feelings, worries and doubts. However over the years, I started to realise that he used those pieces of my life to coerce me, humiliate me and to isolate me. I had always painted an image of him to be a socially conscientious and sensitive person believing in human rights and values.

One criticism or question to him, and I was sure to get hit. At times I struggled to ensure not to disappoint him. I began a race with myself to prove to him that I was becoming what he wanted me to be. Although the irrationality of beatings and justifications over the years became more and more clear, I simply kept feeding into his expectations to maintain the peace.

Indeed there were times in those five years that I questioned him, but not truly. I agreed to his arguments. I believed that it was my fault to get beatings. I apologised to him for committing ‘mistakes’. Once, he hit me in broad daylight on a street full of people for boarding the general compartment of a train and not the ‘ladies compartment’. He said hitting me was a punishment, to ensure I would remember the next time. I was beaten black and blue with a belt for going on a school reunion picnic because boys also participated in this picnic. He said he didn’t trust any man other than my father and brothers for my safety. He said I was ignorant, that I didn’t know how the world works and therefore I needed his protection.

Growing up as a teenager at home, I didn’t follow a certain hour curfew. But in my mid-twenties, in that relationship, I felt enchained. I would cut short on family events and cancel going out. One angry phone call from him and I frantically left the turmeric ceremony of a friend. I swore to him that I didn’t dance in that ceremony. He said if I properly explained the reasons for attending these events, he would allow me to go. But to him, my explanations were never sufficient.

He would say I didn’t have awareness of my body. He would hit me as a punishment so as to remind me to always wear a dupatta (scarf worn over clothes as additional covering for upper front body). At one time, I was hit for bringing ‘burnt’ chapati and ‘leftover gravy’ for him. He said, “This shows how much importance I have in your life. You are careless because you don’t value me.” I was hit again because I became upset and wouldn’t eat.

I was hit in so many instances. Inside the house but also in public places; in Mumbai and during our stay in Europe; on a subway full of people; on bus stops, and while walking through busy streets. I wouldn’t understand why people didn’t question him or stop him.

I was hit in so many instances. Inside the house but also in public places; in Mumbai and during our stay in Europe; on a subway full of people; on bus stops, and while walking through busy streets. I wouldn’t understand why people didn’t question him or stop him.

During my gender studies course in a prestigious European university, I was hit to the point where I had to go to the hospital. The side of my eye where he had punched was bleeding. My eye was blue and swollen for days and so was my body. I resumed classes after a week and made my presentation wearing sunglasses. I told my classmates I had fallen off an escalator.

Last year when I told one of those classmates what the truth was, she said she wasn’t surprised. She didn’t want to confront me at that time and probe with too many questions, but she knew something wasn’t right. She said many other women in the class actually gossiped about it. It really surprised me that there was such a silence around domestic violence, even among these ‘feminists-to-be’. At that time I didn’t reach out for help. I feared several bad consequences, especially for him in a foreign land if I did so.

He would hit me more aggressively every time I cried for help. When I said I would tell our parents about how he treats me, he would say: “We hadn’t involved our parents when we took the decision to be together. We will solve our matters ourselves now too.”

Every time I said I wanted to end this relationship, he would reply: “You can’t take this decision on your own, alone”. When I said I would lodge a complaint against him he would say: “But you have hit me too, we are equals”, referring to the very few times I had hit him in defense.

Or even: “In a patriarchal society like ours, my pride is wounded much more by getting hit by a woman.” When I spoke of rights and equality, he would say: “Don’t get influenced by ‘personal is political’ of feminists. Don’t try to be a feminist because it will ruin you.” He said: “Look around. Which feminist do you see with proper families? They have destroyed everything.”

He choked me, and pushed me against the wall. Punching me in the head, he had said it was my stubbornness that brought evil out of him. I would freeze, black out… My brain would literally stop working. I wouldn’t speak a thing and this made him angrier. He said “he beat me up but just enough to make me speak out.” It sounded like a police interrogation tactic. He said to me once: “Now I understand why men kill their women in frustration.”

I have read about how cycles of abuse function. How there are patterns that every abuser follows. Yet I had to take my own time. The moment I finally broke the silence, over a year ago, talking to friends and family, it felt like a flood of words gushed out my mouth. I didn’t want to remain in silence anymore. The more I spoke, the more I understood how systematically the violence I endured was normalised. Until then I was ashamed, confused, in disbelief and denial that I was a victim of domestic violence.

How could I believe I was that victim? Coming from a humble background, a Dalit girl growing up in a slum of Mumbai. I had achieved things I hadn’t imagined for myself. My family and community respected me. My opinions mattered. People saw me as a confident, independent young woman. But precisely these facts became detrimental to my coming out. I feared all that I had achieved would be shattered if I came out as a victim of domestic violence. As though it was my failure. I thought of the disgrace it would bring upon my family. I feared he would come after me and he would create a big havoc in front of my family. After all he had said he would do so at many occasions.

There are endless stories of brutalities but the trend would always be the same. To have control over me and to discourage me from taking decisions of my own. Coming to Geneva on my own for PhD in September 2014, finally gave me mental space to understand and process things. For example, I would walk on the streets of Geneva and still feel his surveiling eyes watching me. This made me realize the omnipresent terror I was living with.
For five years I thought it was going to be impossible to end this relationship. Even in Geneva where I was on my own, it took time for me to believe that I could actually end it. I finally gathered courage and did it. It wasn’t easy; I was guilt-tripped at every step. Even then he didn’t let me go and continued to manipulate me.

He spoke of the morality and values I would be digressing from if I left him. He spoke of betrayal. He said I was betraying him without any other explanation and therefore was resorting to a narrative of abuse. He claimed he could explain every instance of abuse towards me, saying he did all of it out of utmost love and compassion for me.

He spoke of the morality and values I would be digressing from if I left him. He spoke of betrayal. He said I was betraying him without any other explanation and therefore was resorting to a narrative of abuse. He claimed he could explain every instance of abuse towards me, saying he did all of it out of utmost love and compassion for me. He insisted that I was focusing too much on the bad things and was conveniently forgetting all the good he did for me. He said by running away from him I am taking an easy way out, that if I truly loved him, I would stay on to bring positive change in the relationship.

When his manipulations to bring me back into his life didn’t show any results, he started asking for my forgiveness. He promised that he would change, like he had promised previously after every beating. I was asked why suddenly I took such a step. Had I met someone? Later he started with negotiations. He said if he were to accept my decision, I should accept the conditions that he made, by which I was to stay single all my life and not fall in love with anyone. I also was to see him change and he expected that we wouldn’t give up on the activities of the Dalit women’s rights organisation we had started together.

It was plain mockery that during our relationship, in social forums we went together to speak as colleagues for Dalit women’s rights and in the private domain my rights were getting violated every day. We both led very contrasting lives. To the outer world I was a confident, outspoken young woman and he an introvert but equally diligent promoter of Dalit women’s rights. In my personal life I was oppressed and he was oppressing me. Who could have ever believed?

For example, people were shocked to know he could do something like this to anyone. At the very same instance some told me to forget about it. Most of the people I spoke with gave well-meaning advice. They said you are out of it and that’s what matters. You have a better life ahead and he doesn’t deserve your attention. I saw that as much as people felt sad, shocked about partner abuse, they thought it to be normal. Something to forget and move on.

A few common friends didn’t break their silence about this. They thought they couldn’t take sides and told me so. Some took upon themselves the task of moral policing. Many couldn’t understand why I didn’t leave earlier. Few asked me why now, after five years? What triggered this sudden decision?

As if, by having stayed on for five years in that relationship, I had lost the legitimacy to question it and to finally come out of it. Some thought mine was a hasty decision, and I should think over it. Others made it an issue of pride that I didn’t reach out to them first. Some said he is their friend and they are concerned about the consequences the end of our relationship would have on him.

After the end of this abusive relationship, my life took a dramatic turn. A magical one even; if I may say so. I found an amazing connection with an old friend from Belgium with whom I could share my every thought with. A year later we decided to get married. As the news of my marriage with a ‘white man’ broke in December 2015, there were further waves of shock.

Word went around that I betrayed a “good man from our community” for a “white man from foreign land”. I was said to have gone for “a better option”. However, many people did reach out and congratulate me. I thank them for their support. I am now in an equal and respectful relationship full of love and trust. My partner, our friends and families in both the parts of the world (India and Belgium) have supported us wholeheartedly. Their support has been crucial for me to stand strong.

Towards the end of my narrative I want to address the people who want to know why I didn’t leave in those five years. Although I don’t owe any explanation, I am stating the reasons that are commonly recognised in partner abuse. I would like this to help women in abusive relationships to understand the patterns of abuse they are facing.

I didn’t leave because firstly I couldn’t believe I was being abused. I have been an educated and empowered woman, vocal about marginalised women’s rights. How could this have happened to me?

I didn’t leave because firstly I couldn’t believe I was being abused. I have been an educated and empowered woman, vocal about marginalised women’s rights. How could this have happened to me? Moreover, the common belief is that domestic abuse would happen to illiterate and disempowered women, perpetrated by alcoholic men. Him being a human rights activist, he didn’t fit the profile of a domestic abuser. We both didn’t fit the profiles of the abused and the abuser. I say people, it’s a myth! Domestic abusers do not have a specific profile. I plead to women: do not feel ashamed because you have been abused. Domestic violence does not define who you are as a person.

I didn’t leave because I tried to find rationality in his reasoning. I started to think that since he couldn’t get angry at me for no reason, maybe I was doing something wrong that made him angry. Gradually I was conditioned to blame myself in this relationship. I thought I could make things better and that time would strengthen trust in the relationship. Research shows that most domestic abusers face aggressive disorder and their anger doesn’t always have rational reasoning. Domestic abusers use systematic strategies for coercion and manipulation. Believing that it’s your fault will further drag you into a cycle of abuse.

I didn’t leave because I believed I could help him. Many a times, he said he needed me to make him a better person. That only I could help him. I started reading articles on living with a temperamental person. My plea to women is not to try to save somebody by endangering your own life. Don’t wait for him to change. Because while there are chances he may change, he probably needs an external expert to help. You as a victim of abuse should first seek distance from the abusive relationship for your own safety.

I didn’t leave because I kept raising the threshold to be reached before leaving. First, I told him I would leave him if he abused and humiliated me publically. But when that happened, I started saying I will leave you if you hit me in front of our family members. And when that happened too, I again created a much higher threshold. I said to him, “in the future, if we get married and start a family, I will leave you the day you abuse me in front our kids.”

Once he told me after hitting me in front his sister: “Now that you brought out an evil side of me in front my sister, I will no longer have any inhibitions to hit you in front of anybody anymore.” He said, “you have just created the worst outcome for yourself.” I beg all women to have zero tolerance for any form of abuse. Do not let your respect and dignity be compromised at any cost.

I didn’t leave because I didn’t know how to. Without realising it, I was imposing rules on myself to keep the peace, to make him happy. This also led to my withdrawal from friends and family. Isolation made it more difficult for me to get an objective explanation of the situation.

Dear courageous women, do not close yourself down. Reach out to family and friends. Consider their opinions. Importantly, take your own decisions. We have to live life and learn through it. We all may feel vulnerable. I feel so vulnerable at times and it surprises me even now to think how much of an impact violence has on me. I considered myself a strong person, and now my vulnerability too has become part of my strength.

Before I conclude, I want to address the people who know the person who abused me. After reading this, some of you might get angry and maybe even distance yourself from him. I feel it may not serve as a solution. There are too many cases of domestic abuse to only blame and punish one person. We have to reflect as a society on how we are dealing with issues of violence. There is naming and shaming of the victims/survivors of domestic abuse.
 
Every time a woman decides to walk out of a bad relationship, her chastity is questioned. Speak out against domestic violence. Support those who speak out against domestic violence happening to them.

Every time a woman decides to walk out of a bad relationship, her chastity is questioned. Speak out against domestic violence. Support those who speak out against domestic violence happening to them. There should also be awareness and openness in society to recognise anger and aggression as a psychological disorder. People with anger and aggressive disorder should seek help. Along with children, women are the primary victims of the aggressive disorder of their partners.

I have come to the end of my narrative here. You might wonder why I am writing about something so personal to me. I have stated the reasons in the beginning of this text. In conclusion, I want to reinforce them.
I want to build solidarity with the survivors of domestic violence and to get the discussion going. As we teach our young girls and women lessons of empowerment, we must also equip our whole society, especially men, to be emancipated and to embrace gender equality in its truest sense. Equality, not as a value ‘out there’, but as a habit integrated in our day to day life.

Society should nurture its young girls and women to think independently. Rather than emphasising the virtue of sacrifice, they should be empowered to put themselves first. They should be taught that assertion for their rights is important and normal. Society should at the same time understand that it is normal for women in an abusive relationship, to be vulnerable and feel at their weakest. Young girls and women should in fact know that it is only when we are able to care for ourselves and value ourselves that we find our true selves and the strength within, to accept who we are. Jai Bhim!

Swati Kamble is a Dalit women’s rights activist, presently doing a PhD in Socio-economics at the University of Geneva on caste and gender inequalities in policy processes in India. 
 
Courtesy: Savari, a platform where adivasi, dalit and bahujan women “share our thoughts about our lives and the society we live in, including conflicts with the self, family and community”.
 

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