Domestic violence statistics and victim-blaming

In reaction to my recent blog on Joytika, one of my readers asked me to share the text of my presentation at USP, 24 July 2013 – 'Discussion and sharing space on Domestic Violence', one of the activities that was organized in memory of Joytika. Here it is.

'Reflections on domestic violence statistics and victim-blaming'

Let's try to make sure Joytika is not forgotten. If there is anything positive that can come from this senseless murder, let’s all take a stand and speak out to end violence against women and girls. 

Tapping my experience with violence against women research around the world I would like to share with you some reflections around violence statistics and around victim-blaming.

Violence statistics based on prevalence studies around the world show that on average one out of every three women will experience physical or sexual violence during her lifetime. Most of this violence will be caused by an intimate partner or ex-partner: her husband or boyfriend; someone who is supposed to care for her. Fiji Women’s Crisis Centre (FWCC) found in their study that in Fiji alarmingly twice as many women - or 2 out of every 3 - claimed to have ever experienced physical or sexual violence by the hands of a partner. 

In violence prevalence studies (surveys), the methods we apply to measure how common violence against women is, involve interviewing women using a well-designed questionnaire and especially trained interviewers. In such studies thousands of women in the general population are interviewed; any woman can be chosen, and we do not know in advance if an interviewed woman has experienced violence or not. Confidentiality and safety of the women are central to this work. Names of the interviewed women are not recorded, but their experiences with violence end up in the prevalence rates, the numbers, the “statistics”… Their stories remain anonymous and cannot be traced back to specific individuals....

Unlike the numbers and stories in the study reports, the story of Joytika is not anonymous. Extreme violent cases of women that were killed like Joytika usually make the news. But tragically… Joytika – or any murdered woman for that matter - will never appear in our statistics or in the stories in our reports. She won’t, because she no longer has a voice. When an interviewer would knock on her door tomorrow, she would not be there to be interviewed. When you measure how many women experience violence by using interviews you miss out on those who died. And there are many more who will not enter in our statistics: the women that are hard to reach; those who are hospitalized because of the injuries inflicted to them by violent partners; those who are institutionalized, because of their mental problems after many years of psychological abuse and manipulation; those who are locked up by husband or relatives; those who are not given permission to leave the house or even to open the door and be interviewed by strangers; or those who are too afraid to do so…. And we have no idea how many they are. I want you to remember this when you hear statistics on violence against women: the statistics never include the worst cases... 

I just mentioned that, according to FWCC’s survey statistics in Fiji about two out of three women has experienced violence by a partner in her life. Even more shocking is that in the past 12 months alone, half of these women, or, roughly one out of every 3 women, has experienced physical or sexual partner violence from a partner. If we translate this to this audience, I am quite certain that among the 30 or so women in this group, about ten of you have been slapped or were forced to have sex by a partner in the past 12 months. And remember we can be sure that the reality is even worse than the statistics… we miss the information from women like Joytika… the most severe cases, the women without voice.

The statistics around the world consistently show that if you have experienced such violence you have a higher chance to have health problems, and you have a higher chance that your children perform badly in school or have behavioural problems. Research also shows that your children will have a higher chance to become victims of violence, or perpetrator, or both. What is also shocking is that many of you, like the women in the general population, have probably never told anyone…  Women do not share their problems with others because if your husband or partner finds out that you have been talking about him, he may beat you up again. Or you are afraid that you will not be taken serious, you will be blamed; you know that your neighbours or best friend will say ”you must have provoked him”; your mother will probably tell you that you should be nicer to you husband or that you should stay quiet to not bring shame to the family. This makes you feel isolated and guilty. Research also shows how hard it is to leave, but also that the period around or after leaving is the most dangerous period for a woman.  

For me the most striking finding every time, in country after country is the silence and the stigma and the prejudices…

I do not think I had ever spoken with Joytika, but after her killing, when I went through my photos and videos I found I had photos of her as far back as last year at the premier launch of the movie Suraji (a Fijian movie on indentured cane workers in Fiji). There she was in a stunning black, white and red salwar kameez. I had also photographed and filmed Joytika during a dance rehearsal at YMCA and Joytika dancing on the streets on 14 Febr this year. 

Even if we had been a number of times on the same occasions, I did not get the opportunity to know her personally while she was alive, but I have the feeling I have gotten to know her during the weeks after her murder on 27 June. 

I participated in the tribute for Joytika in the YMCA ten days ago. Afterwards, on my way home I met one of the security guards with whom I often chat. He is a friendly man. He knows my name but I’ve never told him about my work. For some reason I told him that I had just been at a tribute for the girl that was killed. “Henriette” he said in an authoritative manner “let me tell you something. You know nothing about it. I live near the street where it happened. People had heard them fighting, and if a man is angry he cannot control himself.”   

I was taken aback, this normally soft-spoken man sounded so judgemental with his implicit victim-blaming; he implied she should have known her place … and he implied that she drove the murderer to his action. I was so shocked, honestly I could only stammer “If people heard them fighting they should have called the police…”   I did not feel comfortable challenging him further, but… I felt I had failed Joytika then.

I cannot even start imagine the stress that Joytika must have lived under, the burden of the stigma, the prejudices, the forces that wanted her to stay in the relationship, to avoid the shame… And in Fiji there are thousands of women like her; and too many young women are dying…. 

We need to fight victim-blaming, which marginalizes the victim/survivor and make it harder to come forward and report the abuse. It is NOT the victim’s fault or responsibility to fix the situation; it is the abuser’s choice to use violence. Or like I said at the YMCA tribute: Joytika’s murderer is the only person who is guilty of her murder. 

By engaging in victim-blaming attitudes, society allows the abuser to perpetrate violence or sexual assault while avoiding accountability for his actions.

All of us we can do something about this. Here are some suggestions:

• We should challenge victim-blaming statements when you hear them – it is not easy, as I painfully experienced when the security guard confronted me with his victim-blaming;
• We should not agree with abusers’ excuses for why they abuse;
• We should let survivors know that it is not their fault;
• We should hold abusers accountable for their actions: do not let them make excuses for their behaviour, like blaming the victim, alcohol, or drugs or traumatic childhood experiences;
• And we should acknowledge that the survivor is her own best expert and provide her with resources and support.

To conclude, if we are aware of abusive behavior and do not speak out against it, our silence communicates implicitly that we see nothing unacceptable taking place.

Violence, rape, murder – it is never acceptable, never excusable and never tolerable…we owe this to Joytika and all the other women to speak out against it.

Henriette Jansen, Suva, 24 July 2013

YMCA tribute to Joytika

Two days ago I posted a blog on Joytika and how she was murdered. Below some pictures taken at the tribute to Joytika's life that was held at the YMCA in Suva on 6 July 2013. It was an intimate and moving event.

Joytika Devi Singh

Amsterdam, 14 Febr 2014
Exactly one year ago I was in Suva, dancing "break the chain" in the streets, together with many other people, one of them was Joytika Singh. Joy was killed by her husband in the morning of 27 June 2013.  I know that her friends in Suva have been dancing today in her memory.

Shortly after the killing of Joytika I wrote below text after having attended one of a series of tributes to her life. At the time I did not feel comfortable posting it. I have changed my mind now. Joytika stands for many women that are being killed. But she has a name and a face and should not be forgotten.



Suva, 9 July 2013             

        

I met Joytika in October 2012 during the premier launch of Suraji (a Fijian movie on indentured cane workers in Fiji). I think that may have been the first time I saw her. During the premier launch I took a picture of this beautiful small young woman in a black, white and red salwar kameez. I did not know Joytika then and it was after her death, when I went through my photos that I realized that she was Joytika. 

I also met her more recently, in the context of the One Billion Rising project – during a dance rehearsal at YMCA on 9 Febr 2013 and I was dancing with her on the streets of Suva and at the end of the Vagina Monologues one week later on 14 Febr. I also did not know her then, though during my search through my pictures I found her on a number of the photos and several of the videos I took during these events to protest and make a stand against all forms of violence against women and girls. 

I did not get the opportunity to know her personally while she was alive, but I have the feeling I have gotten to know her last week, the week after she was killed. She had been a teacher, was now at student at USP, and married since 3 years.

Joy was the victim of a very brutal murder, by the hands of her husband on 27 June 2013. Last week the Fiji newspaper mentioned that this was an “alleged murder/suicide”; through Facebook I learned she was in the process of leaving her husband with whom she was in an emotional abusive and manipulative relationship. 

The cremation was the following Wednesday in Labasa, her hometown, and a vigil on Thursday in Suva Cathedral. Two days later, on Saturday at the tribute at YMCA her friends spoke emotionally about that she was kind hearted and had tried reconciliation but it had not worked. She had even brought her husband to counselling and she had agreed on meeting her counsellor on the day she was killed. As she did not show up, her counsellor went to her apartment with the police where they found her in a pool of blood.

Although the newspapers were vague about it, apparently the circumstances were very clear. The couple had been meeting up with friends, gone to bed – Joy had even texted a friend at 1 a.m. When she was asleep he must have held her down and cut her throat, her arteries and she bled to death. He was a gentle guy, ‘could not even kill a chicken’, but police found on his computer that he had researched how to kill. In the morning her cell phone rang, and he told her mother she was asleep. Later that morning he drunk a bottle of hard liquor and cut his wrists….  They found him next to the bed.

At the YMCA tribute from the stories it became evident that she must have gone through hell. Her traditional Indo-Fijian background placed lots of importance on family honour and shame; the pressure on her to stay in the relationship must have been tremendous. Recently three other women have died in forced suicides, apparently a ‘safe' way of killing women in this culture. Joy who was part of the movement to end violence against women, had been silent about her own situation. She had confided in only a few friends, her thesis supervisor and her counsellor. Friends had asked about her safety and she did not feel she was in danger...

At the tribute, her friends, one by one, came to the front of the big mat on which we all sat, and related all kinds of stories and anecdotes: how they had met; things that they had done (that’s how I heard she had played in the movie Suraji); what a tiny woman and bubbly and friendly person she was… Her friends mentioned repeated that they should have asked more, should have called her more often, should have been more involved, should have kept her out of her apartment, so that she could have been saved. There was also much anger against a society that was judgemental and had not protected her. One young woman in the audience mentioned that Joytika was living on borrowed time. That had she not been killed that night, she would have been killed some other time, some other place... 

I felt troubled. Many things passed through my head. The complete helplessness if you absolute cannot know what goes on in someone’s head. That you can never really know a person.

I was not planning to speak up at the tribute. Most participants were friends and relatives who had been processing their emotions over a week now and I felt a relative outsider. Nevertheless my heart was bursting. I raised my hand after everybody had already spoken: “I was not planning to speak, but I have something to say.” I was invited to sit at the front of the mat facing all the others, just like all speakers before me had done.

“I did not know Joytika, but I have been listing to you all. I keep noticing the feelings of guilt among some of you: wondering if you could have saved her, only if… But I want to tell you one thing: the only person who is guilty here is the murderer. He has killed her; he planned it; he knew what he was doing… But… Joytika did not see it coming, and nobody saw it coming. I heard he could not even kill a chicken. The most frightening thought that I have been struggling with during this session is the thought that you can never really know a person even if you live very closely with this person. Nobody expected this. My main message is I want all of us to remember that only the killer is guilty.”

I arrived home at 7 pm. A. the night security guard had just started duty. He does not know what work I do. I told him that I had just been at a tribute for the girl that was killed. “Henriette” he said (and he rarely uses my name), “let me tell you something. I live near the street where it happened. You know nothing about it. People talk about all kind of things and I do not want to know. People had heard them fighting, and if a man is angry he cannot control himself.”  A. sounded so judgemental; I was taken aback about his implicit victim-blaming; he implied she should have known her place … I uttered: “If people heard them fighting they should have called the police…” but I did not feel like starting a discussion with A.

At home I opened my email and found this message from one of the women who had been at the tribute that afternoon. “I really appreciated your afterthought at the YMCA since a lot of my friends were feeling guilty for what the murderer did; I think it was very important for them to hear it. Thanks and I'm so glad you were there.”