The World Health Organization (WHO) defines intimate partner violence (IPV) as any behaviour by an intimate partner or ex-partner that causes physical, psychological or sexual harm (WHO, 2016). Now, all genders can be a victim of IPV, in all sorts of partnerships—heterosexual, homosexual, polygamous—you name it and sadly you will find a case. But here, I am going to focus on the biggest group—heterosexual women. How big is this group? Well, 87 percent women in heterosexual intimate relationships, in Bangladesh alone, have faced violence at least once—as stated in the Violence Against Women (VAW) Survey 2011 Report by Bangladesh Bureau of Statistics in 2013. And about 90 percent of these women are under the age of 25 (BBS 2013).  

The breakdown of the abused women according to type of violence is as below:

65 percent physical violence: including slapping, punching, kicking, throwing something to hurt, pushing, shoving, pulling hair, shaking, throwing acid or hot water, intentionally suffocating, giving electric shocks, burning, choking, threatening with gun, knife or any sharp weapon, beating, etc.

82 percent experienced psychological violence: including controlling behaviour like preventing the partner from contacting friends and relatives, constantly being suspicious of the partner, stopping her from seeing the physician, forcing her to wear hijab or other clothes that are not of the woman's choice, obstructing study or work, forbidding her to go out for recreation, using attacking words against parents, forcing or forbidding contraceptive use, misbehaving for giving birth to a daughter, etc; and abuse like insulting, belittling or humiliating, intimidating, threatening to marry again or divorcing her.

36 percent experienced sexual violence: by husband/partner including hurting or forcing to have sex against her will, degrading or humiliating behaviour during intercourse or any other sexual violence. It also includes physically abusing a child, teasing or mentally abusing a child.

53 percent experienced economic violence: including refusing to give enough money for household expense, pocket money, taking dowry (money/property) as a condition of marriage, pressurising the wife to get money from her parents' house, not "allowing" her to take on a job (BBS, 2013).

93 percent of abused Bangladeshi women never seek help from law enforcing agencies—assuming formal sources underestimate the magnitude and about 66 percent tell no one about it (WHO, 2005).

I used to be in both groups of the last category, now I am just in the latter. I did not seek help either when I faced physical, psychological, sexual violence in my first ever relationship and later psychological and economic violence in the one right after that. The cigarette burn on my left arm has faded, but is still visible. The humiliation has stopped, but there are still raunchy rumours behind my back that unfortunately find their way back to me. At one point, I actually believed that I was the problem, otherwise, why did two consecutive relationships end in a suicide attempt and a messy parting respectively? I look back now at my younger self and feel like giving her a hug and saying, "It is not you, it is never you!" My mistake was to try to bear it all, not saying enough is enough, not sharing my trauma with my family and friends, and most prominently, thinking about what people will say, this I believe was my biggest mistake.

Those who are not moved by the tragedy of IPV, conceptualising it as something that women often bring on themselves, should care because it is a threat to public safety in this society. Bangladesh human rights group Ain o Salish Kendra (ASK) reported that at least 235 women were murdered by the husband or his family in just the first nine months of 2020, while according to another prominent Bangladesh human rights group, Odhikar, between January 2001 and December 2019, over 3,300 women and girls were murdered over dowry disputes (Human Rights Watch, 2020). These numbers, however, are based on media reports and are likely to be only a fraction of the true levels of such violence (Human Rights Watch, 2020). I could have been one of them if I had stayed quiet and not sought the help of my parents, but since I did not go public at the "right" time, I am not in these scary statistics.

Women's economic and social dependence on her male partner puts her at particular risk of experiencing intimate partner violence (IPV) due to lack of alternatives to the abusive relationship. Many studies from developed and developing countries suggest that women's employment increases their bargaining power, reduces stress in the household regarding scarcity of resources, enhances women's status, helps the household fare better and protects women against IPV. Recent studies, however, show a different story. IPV may continue or arise as a woman becomes employed, because she is seen as challenging gender norms and as threatening her male partner's status or exercise of power. In particular, if women start to earn the same or more than her husband, this may undermine the male providers' role and this foundational aspect of a man's gender identity, with violence as a form of "compensatory masculinity". Indeed, there is empirical evidence from low-income countries that suggests in settings with low female employment rates, women's income earning often increases the likelihood of IPV. Differences in these schools of thought are often explained by differences in context.

Bored? All these apparently boring data does not discount a woman of any stature against IPV. As a victim myself, I strongly urge you to stand up for a woman who you know is a victim, show support, love, bravery and above all empathy. I could not have survived let alone thrive if it were not for my support system that shielded me from everything. If you are or even were a victim, please do not blame yourself, do not stay quiet, you are more loved than you believe, trust me and just reach out. I reached out long after the scars on my body faded, and am walking now on the path to fade away the mental wounds that have stayed on. I say fade because they will never really go away, but they will transform into courage, self-discovery and freedom.

Nabeela Nushaira Rahman is research associate, School of Architecture & Design, Brac University.