Let me tell you all about Laksmi Muru. She fell into poverty after her first marriage with a man who was forced to leave the village after he was accused of theft, leaving Laksmi alone with her baby girl. Her second marriage with a dominating and abusive man further aggravated her situation.
Laksmi’s second husband forced her to conceive against her will, as he wanted a son, thus confining her to their home. Laksmi told us that she believes that her husband did not allow her to pursue labour work due to his belief that she might start adulterous relationships with new colleagues or other men if he allowed her to move outside.
Laksmi shared that one incident of violence occurred over her being late in preparing food. Another time she suffered a beating for not handing the mobile phone to him while she was talking with her elder brother living in Dhaka, as her husband thought she was talking to someone she was having an adulterous relationship with.
Following the last beating, she shared her experiences with her brother. Afterwards, her brother severely rebuked her husband for his misconduct. However, still today, Laksmi stays careful in dealing with him when he appears to be in a bad temper. She still cannot call her daughter from her first marriage in fear of deterioration of her relationship with her husband, and her husband gets angry if she enjoys her leisure time with neighbours.
International Women’s Day is coming up on March 8, yet stories like these tell us that in the context of Bangladesh, there is sadly not much to celebrate. The findings of a recently published nationwide survey were a shocking reminder of the conditions of women and girls in Bangladesh today. The survey revealed a series of horrifying statistics.
Violence against women is not directly visible on the streets of Bangladesh as women and girls mostly stay behind the walls of their homes where they are perceived as protected. Yet, surveys like these and many daily newspaper stories reveal the reality that violence exists in almost every home in Bangladesh, across every level of wealth, every day.
They paint an infuriating picture about the disregard towards domestic violence in Bangladesh by police, lawmakers, judges, neighbours, and even family members of the victims. Women with the courage to report the crime of domestic abuse, and demand a divorce, are more likely to get ostracised, stigmatised, or imprisoned themselves.
If a woman gets abused at home, it is mostly considered to be her own fault. Domestic abuse is not considered a punishable crime in Bangladesh. Many women and girls learn to live with this, trapped in a vicious circle of fearing more violence if they object or resist.
In Shiree’s monthly smartphone survey, 100,000 extreme poor beneficiaries are asked about bad events happening in their household over the past month with a voice-recording option. After an analysis of all the voice recordings from January-October 2013, we found several beneficiaries reporting violence: “My son-in-law beat my daughter and sent her back to my house,” “someone in the village beat my wife severely,” “my son tortured me,” “my husband tortured me and he took away my money.”
These only give a taste of the stories behind the violence and they only reflect the small percentage of extreme poor beneficiaries who dared to speak up to the enumerator surveying them.
Reading such accounts of violence, I cannot help ask myself why. Indeed, the key to stopping violence is to go beyond protecting of the victims to engaging with the perpetrators. We need to focus on uncovering the causes and psychologies behind rape and domestic violence as often the mismatch between a harsh reality of extreme poverty and socially constructed gender norms is prevalent in Bangladesh.
Specific expected attributes of masculinity tend to be physical strength, intelligence, power, violence, aggression, and being breadwinners, which men are socialised into behaving according to. However, masculinity is idealised and thus largely unattainable causing masculinity crises. Harsh living conditions, poverty, suffering, neglect, frustration, stress, anxiety and psychological trauma make it difficult for men to fulfill their supposed role as the head and provider of the family. This triggers a “spiral of violence,” those who feel humiliated, mistreated, and victimised by the context of poverty, regarding themselves as failures, become more prone to enact violence.
A necessary first step is to recognise the negative impacts of men’s gender roles of masculinity, especially in the context of severe deprivation, and to incorporate this into programs working to fight gender-based violence for more long-term preemptive interventions. Just like we need to break the silence around violence against women, we also need to break the silence around masculinity issues.
