Deep Wounds

To describe violence against women solely as a product of ignorance, poverty and backwardness in developing societies, while treating the developed world as a flawless model of civilisation and decency, is a dangerous illusion. The truth is that the hand raised against a woman does not belong to one country, one ethnic group, one religion, one civilisation or one economic class. This violence exists in the dark alleys of impoverished neighbourhoods, but it also survives behind closed doors in brightly illuminated cities where human-rights declarations hang on walls and equality is proudly proclaimed at official ceremonies.

The difference is not whether violence exists, but how it is committed, exposed and punished. In some places, violence openly leaves bruises on a woman’s body. Elsewhere, it wears respectable clothing and wounds her soul. In one place, the scream can be heard clearly, yet no door opens. In another, the doors may be open, but the woman’s voice has been suppressed so deeply that she becomes afraid to describe her own suffering.

Violence against women is not limited to punches, slaps, kicks or physical injuries. Constantly humiliating a woman, questioning her intelligence and abilities, attacking her character, keeping her financially dependent, controlling her social contacts, restricting her movement, using her children against her, keeping her trapped in fear and isolation, and ordering her to remain silent whenever disagreement arises are also forms of violence.

These are wounds that cannot be seen in photographs, yet they spread like an ulcer inside the human being. In this kind of abuse, a woman is not destroyed in a single day. She is broken a little more each day. First, her opinion is declared worthless. Then her decisions are presented as wrong. After that, her confidence is crushed until the moment comes when she begins to doubt her own understanding, her memory and even her feelings.

The abuser convinces her that the problem lies within her: that she is excessively sensitive, that she cannot understand things properly, that her mind does not function correctly, or that she is unworthy of respect and love. This is not merely harsh speech. It is a systematic attack on the psychological foundations of a human being. Its purpose is to bring the woman to a point where, instead of recognising abuse as abuse, she begins to accept it as her destiny, her weakness or her own failure.

When a woman is deprived of her voice, she may remain physically alive, but the light of life within her begins to fade. She becomes afraid to make decisions, ashamed of her happiness and silent about her pain. Before speaking, she calculates the possible reaction of the abuser. Her home, which should be a place of safety, turns into a courtroom in which she is accused, required to defend herself and ultimately punished.

Continued physical, sexual and psychological violence can be associated with depression, anxiety, sleeping disorders, post-traumatic stress, suicidal thoughts and other serious physical and mental consequences. The World Health Organization also identifies violence against women not only as a violation of human rights, but as a major public-health issue.

When a woman begins to regard death as a possible escape from her suffering, it is not merely the defeat of one individual. It represents the collective failure of the family, institutions, the legal system and society as a whole. A woman who reaches this point is not weak. The weakness lies in a system that refuses to hear a voice asking for help and instead teaches her to remain silent, preserve the family and fear what people may say.

In our societies, a woman is told to be patient, to think of the children, to protect the family’s honour and to keep family matters within the home. Yet no one asks the abuser why he destroyed the home in the first place. Why is the entire burden of honour placed on the victim’s shoulders? Why are the abused woman’s character, clothing, speech, education, employment and past examined instead of the actions of the perpetrator?

In a society where a woman’s life is considered less valuable than the false reputation of a family, silence is not morality; it is an accomplice to abuse. Delivering a woman back into violence in the name of saving a relationship is not wisdom, but cowardice. Marriage, partnership or companionship gives no person ownership over another person’s body, mind or will. A marital or intimate relationship must be based on consent, respect and trust. A relationship built on coercion is not companionship; it is domination.

According to the latest comprehensive global estimates, approximately one in every three women experiences physical or sexual violence by an intimate partner, or sexual violence by a non-partner, during her lifetime. In 2025, the World Health Organization estimated that this represented approximately 840 million women.

Europe is not protected from this tragedy either. According to the latest joint survey by the European Union, approximately 31 per cent of women between the ages of 18 and 74 have experienced physical violence, threats of physical violence or sexual violence during adulthood. This represents roughly 50 million women. More than 114,000 women from all 27 member states of the European Union participated in the study.

These figures are a severe indictment of self-congratulatory claims of civilisation. Tall buildings, strong economies, modern universities and human-rights laws do not automatically make a society safe for women. Laws are necessary, but writing provisions in legal codes is not enough. The real test is whether an abused woman can reach the police, whether her complaint is believed, whether she is given safe accommodation, whether legal proceedings subject her to further humiliation and whether the perpetrator is genuinely held accountable.

In 2014, the European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights interviewed 42,000 women in a major survey. At that time, 33 per cent of the women reported that they had experienced physical or sexual violence since the age of 15, while five per cent reported having been raped.

Behind these percentages are not abstract numbers, but living human beings whose lives have been damaged. Behind every number stands a woman who may have hidden injuries beneath long sleeves for years, held back tears in front of her children, forced herself to smile normally at work and remained awake at night in fear of the very person she once believed would protect her.

Many women do not endure violence because they enjoy suffering or because they do not wish to change their circumstances. They may be confronted with financial dependence, concerns about their children’s safety, housing difficulties, family pressure, legal complications, social stigma, language barriers, immigration status and the fear of murder or even more severe violence. The path out of abuse, which appears simple on paper, can be extremely dangerous and complicated in real life.

It must also be understood that the presence of children is not always simply a reason to leave. Sometimes it is precisely the reason a woman feels compelled to remain. An abuser may use the children as instruments of threat, surveillance and emotional pressure. The woman may fear that the children will be taken away from her after separation, that she will be unable to provide for them or that the violence will become even more severe.

One of the most vile forms of sexual coercion is the kind that some attempt to justify as a marital right. A woman’s silence is not consent. Fear is not consent. Financial dependence is not consent. A marriage contract is not permanent consent. Every sexual act requires freely given agreement. Ignoring a woman’s refusal, threatening her, forcing her or using physical power against her is not marital intimacy; it is sexual violence.

Some women are forced to watch pornographic material, compelled to perform sexual acts against their will or made to endure degrading situations. Dismissing such crimes as private matters between husband and wife protects the perpetrator. The walls of a home do not make a crime respectable. A crime committed inside the home remains a crime just as surely as one committed outside it.

It is also wrong to explain every act of violence as the result of a man’s mental illness. Not every person experiencing mental illness is violent. In fact, people with mental-health conditions may themselves face a greater risk of becoming victims of violence. Violence can be driven by power, control, gender inequality, learned behaviour, a sense of ownership, the desire to dominate and the belief that the perpetrator will escape punishment. The World Health Organization also connects violence against women with gender inequality.

It is equally incorrect to claim that violence would never occur if a man and a woman simply understood one another properly before entering a relationship. Mental and emotional compatibility is important in a healthy relationship, but disagreement never justifies violence. Two people may have different temperaments. Their priorities may collide. Love may end and a relationship may fail. None of these circumstances gives one person the right to hit, threaten, imprison, humiliate or sexually coerce another.

Violence is not the inevitable outcome of an argument. It is the deliberate crossing of a boundary. A civilised person responds to disagreement by communicating, seeking help, creating distance or ending the relationship. He does not destroy another human being in order to prove his superiority. A person who turns disagreement into violence must accept full responsibility for that decision.

Avoiding marriage or living together in a less formal relationship is not an automatic solution to violence either. Violence can occur in both married and unmarried relationships. The central issue is not the name given to the relationship, but how power, consent, respect, freedom and accountability operate within it. A relationship in which one person claims total control over the other person’s phone, clothing, friendships, money, body and life is not healthy, whether it is called marriage or friendship.

The solution to this problem cannot be found only in harsher punishment, although effective laws and immediate accountability are essential. Prevention must begin with the upbringing of children, respect between genders, emotional education and the rejection of the idea that masculinity means anger, command and domination. Boys must be taught that rejection is not an insult, that a woman is not property, that love does not mean surveillance and that power is not a licence for violence.

The police, courts, hospitals, educational institutions, religious and community leaders and the media must all accept their responsibilities. An abused woman should not be treated with suspicion. She must be provided with protection, confidentiality, legal assistance, psychological support and safe accommodation. The media must also avoid turning her identity and private life into a spectacle. Instead, it should examine the perpetrator, institutional failure and the social attitudes that allow violence to continue.

A woman should not be forced to prove how strongly she resisted, how many times she sought help or why she did not leave earlier. The real questions should be: Why did the perpetrator commit the violence? Why did institutions take so long to intervene? Why did society build a wall of silence around him?

Violence against women is not a private women’s issue. It is a moral, legal and civilisational test for all humanity. A society that forces its women to live in fear remains hollow from within, no matter how loudly it claims to be progressive. The true measure of civilisation is not the brightness of its streets, the height of its buildings or the size of its economy. Its real measure is how safe, free and respected a woman feels in her home, at work, in the street and within her relationships.

The time in which women are instructed to remain silent must come to an end. The responsibility to remain silent does not belong to the victim; the responsibility to answer belongs to the perpetrator. Wounds must be revealed rather than concealed. Instead of protecting the reputation of the abuser, society must protect the life of the abused woman. The dignity of a human being must come before the artificial reputation of a family.

A wound inflicted on the body may perhaps heal with time. But a wound inflicted on the soul through continuous humiliation, fear, coercion and helplessness can transmit its poison across generations. The treatment of these deep wounds does not lie in preaching further patience to women. It lies in stopping the hand of the abuser, breaking the silence and bringing justice to the door of the woman who has suffered.

Shahid Shakil

2026-07-18