Marriages of today

 

Can we stop comparing marriages of our parents and grand parents to our marriages? Feminism and liberalism is NOT  the issue, women have learnt to identify abuse, women are independent and women don't put up with gaslighting anymore. Women have also realised its harmful for children to grow in an abusive household and the idea of "kids need both their parents" is farce. Kids need happy, sane and healthy parents.

Please stop labelling women as "impatient". And rather teach men to level up, treat women better, stop expecting women to be their second mothers.
Longevity of a marriage does not equal a successful marriage. Some of the most broken children come from marriages that went on longer than they should have.
Where the women put up with abuse because she had no other option.
The condescending and emotionally ignorant jibes from these boomers gotta stop like yesterday.
It's always better to be single and alone than to be in a relationship, to be abused, used and be alone.
Women realizing their self worth and not putting up with abuse is the reason most marriages aren't working. Teach men to be less abusive, better at communication and to lay out all expectations before marriage so women can make informed decisions.

If you want her to cook for entire family, if she will have to ask mother in law for her expenses, if she has to ask all members of the family before leaving home, if she has to hand over her salary to father in law, if she has to keep quiet when someone in your family hits her children, if she has to give up her job, if she has to share a bathroom with other family members and your brothers. If she has to handover her gold to her mother in law, if her marriage gold will be given away to your sister in her marriage.
Lay all these things out in the open. Instead of putting her through this after marriage.
Before someone says "not all men" - "enough men" to make this status. Also most men know nothing about their brothers or male friends or how they are behind closed doors with the women of their family. So before you stand up for your mate make sure you truly know him.
IMPORTANT - Yes I know happens to men too. But happens way more especially in desi communities to women. 

From the Ideal Muslimah

Murdered women: Adiba Parveen, the quietest girl in the valley

 

“People in the village would say Adiba was an example for us,” Sajina says. “They would refer to her when they would scold us, reminding us, ‘She is so shareef, so quiet and polite, she does not gossip or waste her time with idle chatter.’” When her friends were old enough to whisper about boys, she found it amusing. “Why would you waste time on them?” she asked.

When friends and family members talk about Adiba, there is a common refrain: she was a good girl, a well-behaved, responsible, polite girl. But she loved to sing – even when she did not know the lyrics, even when she deliberately changed them to make people laugh – and the only times this good, well-behaved girl seemed to do exactly as she pleased was when she was singing.

“She had this habit of standing outside her house and singing very loudly,” recalls Sajina. She knew her neighbours laughed at her. Sometimes, Sajina would join in. The girls would stand outside and sing at each other, scrambling lyrics and singing through their giggles, their voices spilling over into their neighbours’ homes. “Tu hai pagal, tu hai joker (you’re crazy, you’re a joker),” Adiba would shout to Sajina, a lyric from one of her favourite songs, from the Bollywood film Raja Hindustani.

There was another game the girls loved to play. Like most of the homes here, they did not get running water, and every day women walked to the Shimshal river to fetch water. When it was time to head there, one of the girls would stand outside her home and whistle a tune. “That’s how we would summon each other,” Sajina says. The neighbours learned their code: the sweet, clear signal followed by the girls’ chattering voices as they traipsed off.

The river is a five- or six-minute walk from Sajina and Adiba’s homes.

“That’s where they found her on that day,” Sajina says.

They found her by the riverbank, her legs in the water. She would have been washed away were she not pressed against some stones. For a moment, Bakhti Baig believed his sister lay there sleeping.

A crowd quickly gathered and whispered amongst themselves. It was all too common, they knew, for young men and women in the region to commit suicide. While they had not dealt with this in Shimshal, it was so prevalent in Ghizer, Gojal, Chitral, Baltistan or Gilgit, that in 2017 a government committee had been formed to investigate. There were a range of contributing factors: unemployment, mental health issues, domestic abuse, despair at the lack of economic opportunities. The villagers knew that in most instances, families did not bother to report the deaths and quietly buried the victim.

It took the police a few hours to arrive from Hunza. Bakhti Baig was bewildered, unsure of what to do next. The police told him the body needed to be taken to Gulmit, three hours’ drive away. Someone would have to stay with the body overnight until samples for a post-mortem could be collected in the morning and sent to Lahore for processing. There are no facilities to conduct a post-mortem in Gilgit-Baltistan.

By the time the samples collected at Adiba’s post-mortem made their way to Lahore, they were entirely unusable. There was no conclusive report on the cause of her death.

“Adiba was not the kind of person who would kill herself,” Rahat explains. “We want the tasalee, the gratification, of knowing this for sure.” The brothers filed a First Information Report (FIR) with the police, accusing Adiba’s father-in-law Sameem Shah, mother-in-law, husband, brother-in-law Fahim and sister-in-law of killing her and attempting to dispose of her body in the river. The suspects were arrested, but by mid-June, all except Sameem and Fahim were set free. On August 9, they were also released on bail. The accused all denied responsibility for Adiba’s death.

Adiba’s family refused to stay quiet. “I received a message from one of her brothers asking me to write about the case,” says Noor Muhammed, founder and editor of Pamir Times, an online news service covering Gilgit-Baltistan. Muhammed’s wife, Amina Bibi, is one of the administrators on a strictly private Facebook group for women from the region. She decided to reach out to the members and they organised protests against the Shahs’ release.

In August, people gathered in Shimshal, Gulmit, Islamabad and Karachi to call out, “Justice for Adiba”. “When I saw the number of women at the protest in Gulmit – young and old, their children with them – I began to weep,” Amina says. “I have grown up seeing women with bruises, blackened eyes, making excuses for how they got the injuries, being told, ‘Bardasht karo’ (you must bear it). But that day, the women didn’t want to be silent any more.”

Noor Muhammed says he was “pleasantly surprised” by the protests and the determination of Adiba’s family to get her story out. “We are a tribal culture – we live in close-knit communities and when you take a stand against someone in your community, you risk being cast out,” he explains. “This generation is no longer taking the vow of silence our elders did for the sake of the family or tribe’s honour and respect.”

By the end of August, the Shahs’ bail was cancelled. The victory has come at a cost for Adiba’s family. “I have spent Rs500,000 so far on legal fees and the expense of travelling for every hearing,” says Bakhti Baig. “We sold whatever we could. I am so tired, I don’t know how to go on.”

They persist as it is the only way they can make amends to Adiba. “I wish I could tell her, ‘This will not happen to another of our girls’,” Rahat says. “We want this case to be a lesson for people in Shimshal.”

Mehrunissa’s children saw the protests for their aunt Adiba. They do not understand what happened to her, but in the days after, they played a new game: they would march through the house mimicking the calls they had heard, chanting, “Justice for Auntie Adiba!” The case did not receive much media coverage outside Gilgit-Baltistan. “But at the protests, even strangers had Adiba’s name on their lips,” says Mehrunissa. “If it weren’t for them, who would know about her? Adiba was an ordinary girl. She died. That’s it. Why would they care?” 

Link

Hitting Women: The Ayah and Beyond

Domestic violence against Women in Pakistan

 

Despite strict laws and social awareness, domestic violence is prevalent in Pakistan at an alarming rate. Almost one in three Pakistani women report facing domestic physical violence by partners, in-laws, and in some circumstances by their brothers and parents. The informal estimates are much higher. Such violence, when widespread in society, is also normalized. According to a study conducted by the Bureau of Statistics, more than half of the women respondents in one province believe that it is acceptable for a husband to beat his wife under certain circumstances; and such sentiments also prevail in the rest of the country. According to media reports, more than 51,241 cases of violence against women’ were reported between January 2018 and October 2020.

According to a survey conducted on 23 September 2018, by Thomson Reuter Corporation, Pakistan was ranked as the sixth most dangerous nation on the planet for women. The predominant power structure in Pakistan is patriarchy, in which the male figure is in control of all affairs, public and private, thus assuming a dominant position. Women have been excluding from settling on choices and are considered socially and financially dependent on men. Women have to face discrimination and violence daily due to the cultural and religious norms that Pakistani society embraces.

About 70 to 90 percent of Pakistani women are subjected to domestic violence. Domestic violence perpetrated upon a spouse can precede the mistreatment of children; this can, in turn, leave a long-term emotional and psychological impact such as behavioral disturbances, with the child replicating the abuse. Women who have experienced domestic violence or abuse are at a significantly higher risk of experiencing a range of mental health conditions including, depression, anxiety, substance abuse, and thoughts of suicide. Domestic violence and oppression of women, especially at home, is unacceptable, and needs to be treated as such.

Recently, a heart-wrenching video of a rebellious young man beating his mother went viral. Similarly, painful videos of women’s abuse have also surfaced in recent times. A recent case was of Sadaf Zahra, a married woman whose body founded hanging from the ceiling fan by a bedsheet tied around her neck and a ladder lying close by. The deceased’s friend has held her friend’s husband responsible for her death. Similarly, hundreds of thousands of women across the country face the same plight but have not been able to lift their voices.

In the late 1970s and 1980s, Pakistan witnessed regression of women’s rights laws, which have been amending to reflect this discrimination. In the last 10 to 15 years, there has been some success in passing policies to prevent practices such as early-age marriages, honour killings, sexual harassment, domestic violence, and rape. Pressure needs to be maintained upon the central and provincial governments to tackle domestic violence and treat it as a priority; this is a problem that impacts society as a whole. As part of a dialogue recently organized by the KP office of UN Women and the KP’s EVAW Alliance, the scholars have signed a declaration condemning gender-based violence and vowing to spread awareness in their relevant communities to put an end to the practice. The increased focus of religious sermons on ending violence against women can make a notable difference over time.

The time is right to act on this issue in Pakistan. Society, too, needs to step up for its women. Regardless of the introduction of pro-women laws that criminalize domestic abuse, the barriers to ensuring justice to the victims are too many. Merely introducing laws that lack proper implementation and establishing helplines do not mean that the state has fulfilled its responsibilities regarding women’s protection. The law also needs further improvements and clarity in its language. It is the responsibility of the state to give protection to its citizens in public and private spaces. There is no way the state could allow its citizens to be subjected to abuse just because it takes place in a personal setting. If we do not address violence against women and girls, sustainable growth will remain elusive.
Successive governments have also taken steps to put a stop to the exuberant women abuse. The Constitution of Pakistan ensures women’s security against any form of violence in its Articles 3 and 11. Besides, the National Commission on the Status of Women Bill 2012, the National Policy for Development and Empowerment of Women (NPDEW) 2002, and the Punjab Protection of Women against Violence Act (PPWVA) 2016 are among the measures adopted to protect women from domestic violence in the last decade. PPP Senator Sherry Rehman tabled the Domestic violence Bill on the floor of the Senate for debate, in July 2020. Under the bill, offenders were to be punished by domestic violence which was criminalized. In recent times Shireen Mazari, the Human Rights Minister in the PTI government, started a helpline to enable women and children to report instances of domestic violence.

The time is right to act on this issue in Pakistan. Society, too, needs to step up for its women. Regardless of the introduction of pro-women laws that criminalize domestic abuse, the barriers to ensuring justice to the victims are too many. Merely introducing laws that lack proper implementation and establishing helplines do not mean that the state has fulfilled its responsibilities regarding women’s protection. The law also needs further improvements and clarity in its language. It is the responsibility of the state to give protection to its citizens in public and private spaces. There is no way the state could allow its citizens to be subjected to abuse just because it takes place in a personal setting. If we do not address violence against women and girls, sustainable growth will remain elusive.

Link

Muslim Abusive Husband Regrets Shouting At Wife - EPIC ENDING | ISLAMIC SHORT FILM | The Sunnah Guy

 

Your Daughter is Yelled at and Abused - Mufti Menk

 

Sosan's Story: Domestic Violence in Afghanistan

 

Domestic Abuse: What You Need to Know (Podcast)

 

 “This is not a Muslim issue, this is everywhere. But, we need to seriously address this issue…There needs to be an awareness of working together.”

 On this week’s TMV Podcast, Cheif Editor Salim Kassam speaks to Canadian psychotherapist and counsellor Berak Hussain on domestic abuse and everything you need to know about a topic that is often labeled as ‘taboo’, and why the Muslim community must step up with this issue.

Listen to the full podcast below:

Link

DOMESTIC ABUSE : Is it 'Patience' to stay?

She Went to Prison for Killing Her Husband. The Pandemic Set Her Free.

On a Thursday morning in May, three days after Foroozan was freed from prison, she left her mother’s house to go to the market. It was the first time in six years that she had set foot on the streets of Herat, the capital city of a province of the same name in western Afghanistan. As she made her way through crowds of men wearing masks, she became lightheaded, as if “the world was revolving around her head.” It was nothing like how she had imagined it. “When I was in prison, I thought the outside world is heaven and those who are released, they’re on their way to heaven,” she said. But now, finally experiencing it for herself, she found it alienating and even frightening. “I thought everyone was staring at me,” she said. “Pointing their fingers toward me while whispering, as if they knew I was a prisoner, but of course it was all in my head.”

Foroozan was in the 10th grade when her family arranged for her to marry a man who was 25 years older. He was prone to violence, and for 15 years, she endured his physical and verbal abuse. One early morning, though, he directed his aggression at one of their two daughters. Foroozan grabbed a shovel and hit her husband repeatedly with the blade until he died. When she turned herself in to the police, her 12-year-old son, Maqsood, stepped forward, saying that he had helped his mother with the killing. Foroozan was charged and found guilty of murder and sentenced to 10 years in prison. Maqsood was sent to a juvenile rehabilitation center for two and a half years, and his sisters, Mozhdah and Mahtab, 9 and 7 at the time, were sent to a safe house.

Foroozan was one of as many as 20 women incarcerated in Herat Women’s Prison for killing their husbands. Many of them had been in abusive relationships, until the instinct to survive or to protect their children drove them to kill their abusers — and they ended up in prison with lengthy sentences with little chance of an early release. I first visited the facility in 2019, and most of the women told me they felt safer and more free in prison than they had at home with their families.


Many of these inmates have since been freed, after President Ashraf Ghani ordered the release of thousands of prisoners — mostly women, juveniles and sick people — to prevent the spread of the novel coronavirus. Eligible inmates were notified to pack their belongings and wait in the courtyard. Foroozan joined them, listening as a few names were called out. Those lucky prisoners were released, but after hours of waiting, Aalia Azizi, the prison manager, told the remaining women the bad news: “No one else is going home today, there has been a mistake.” Azizi didn’t know what the mistake was, only that she had clear instructions not to release anyone else.


The next day, the prison erupted into chaos. A group of angry inmates tried to smash through the bulletproof entrance gate and shatter the prison’s windows. The children’s playground was burned down, and a dozen inmates were hospitalized, some with serious injuries after swallowing broken glass as an act of protest. They had been promised freedom, and they were refusing to give it up. The violent demonstrations continued, and the prison, which was previously a relatively safe and peaceful sanctuary compared with the homes many inmates came from, fell into discord. Some prisoners went on hunger strikes, and others attempted suicide, all demanding their release.

Eventually the government offered a solution: If the women wanted to leave, they could buy off the remainder of their sentence with approval from the prosecutor’s office. Foroozan, desperate to reunite with her children, borrowed a little more than $1,000 from her relatives and paid her way out. She was released on May 11.


“Thanks to coronavirus, I am given a second chance to live,” Foroozan said. “To get out of the prison early and start a new life with my daughters at my side.” Mozhdah and Mahtab, who are now 15 and 13, described the last two months as the toughest period in all the years they were apart from their mother. “During the quarantine we were allowed only one phone call per month,” Mahtab said. “We couldn’t go to school, we couldn’t come home to our grandma and we couldn’t visit our mom. They had imprisoned us as well.” She cried as she spoke.


Foroozan and her daughters are together again, but the grim realities of being a woman in male-dominated Afghanistan hang over their daily lives. Inside the prison, Foroozan was able to earn a small income as a tailor, sewing dresses and repairing clothes for the guards and inmates, but in Herat she won’t be able to find a job anytime soon. The pandemic has disrupted the Afghan economy and left millions of people out of work.

The last of Foroozan’s savings went to pay a smuggler to get Maqsood out of the country after he was released from detention three years ago. He is currently in Germany, where he traveled by foot at just 14 years old after being released. In January, his asylum request was rejected by German authorities. His lawyer has appealed the case, but he could be deported back to Afghanistan when he turns 18 this year.

At her mother’s house, in between joyful moments and loud laughter with the girls, Foroozan is often dazed, lost in her thoughts, a dark world of uncertainty. Her husband’s family members have repeatedly threatened her and her children’s lives, promising revenge for his death.


One afternoon, Mahtab asked if she could go out to buy ice cream. Foroozan raised her eyebrow but bit her tongue and said yes. As Mahtab was going down the stairs, Foroozan ran after her, handing her a surgical mask: “Don’t touch your face and make it quick!” Once again, she is single-handedly protecting her children: protecting them from the virus, her merciless in-laws, a raging war and a patriarchal society that doesn’t welcome her or her daughters.

As she watched Mahtab disappear in the corridor, she whispered: “Inside the prison I had one problem. Now out here, I have a thousand.”

Link

I lost my mum to domestic violence but I won't let fear or racists keep me silent

At Rookwood Cemetery in Sydney's west, Islamic Burial Section 8 is by the telegraph tower and the train line.

As I pull over, I notice other people conversing quietly with God by the graves of their loved ones. It looks like a funeral has recently taken place. I remind myself, inna lillah wa inna illayhi raji'un: we belong to God and it is to Him we return.

I'm here to visit the grave of my mum, Salwa Haydar, who was just 45 years old when she was murdered by my father in 2015. She was preparing her dinner in the kitchen after a long day's work when he attacked her with a knife.

My sister, who was 18 at the time, fought him with her bare hands and was injured in the attack. My father's actions were cowardly, merciless and unrelenting: my mum died at the scene from about 30 stab wounds.

Arriving at my mother's resting place, I empty the vases that flank her tombstone and fill them with fresh water and blooms — daisies and dahlias — before turning to her neighbours.

In an adjacent row, 16-year-old Mahmoud Hrouk is buried. I take my spare flowers to him.

Mahmoud was sexually assaulted and murdered in 2015 by Aymen Turkmani who left his body in an abandoned house in Villawood. Turkmani was subsequently found guilty and sentenced to a maximum of 45 years in prison.

Mahmoud's youthful face is never far from my thoughts — his funeral happened soon after my mum's and the sadness of their two stories seems to have fused in my mind.

I notice that the lilies by his tombstone are still in the bud. I think of his mum.

I then wander towards the back of Section 8, where, right by the fence line, lays baby Omaira: "Born without breath, but not without love".

Omaira died at 5 months' gestation when her pregnant mother was attacked by her abusive male partner. Omaira's tiny, humble grave has been decorated with pebbles and rainbow windmills. I remind myself to bring more flowers next time.

Children without parents, parents without children. Who else is here because of male violence? I ponder the question as I drive away with a heavy heart.

Why don't we talk more openly about the effects of male violence on our families? For Muslim women in particular, the answers are complex.

Recently, however, I've noticed a growing number of us are standing up to the forces that keep us quiet and I'm energised by the community's willingness to listen.

The double bind Muslim women find ourselves in
In its ongoing series, ABC News has been investigating the role of religion in influencing the behaviour of perpetrators and victims of domestic violence in different faith communities.

The most recent piece reported on the confusion and harm being caused by popular translations of verse 4:34 in the Quran, which some Islamic scholars argue permits men to beat "disobedient" wives.

Such interpretations hinder the work being done by Muslims to tackle gender-based violence. Meanwhile, contemporary, non-violent interpretations of the same verse have not yet gained consensus.


Full article

Domestic Violence awareness interview: Marzana Rahman

Divya, a chartered accountant, was allegedly tortured and murdered by her in-laws after years of dowry harassment.

Heart-breaking :( 

Regret washes over Indira every time she thinks of her 25-year-old daughter. It weighs her down, paralysing her with guilt. She had pushed Divya to return to her husband’s house despite her repeated pleas that she was being tortured and harassed.  

It’s been two months since Divya, a chartered accountant from Mannargudi in Tamil Nadu was allegedly tortured and murdered by her in-laws on July 17.  

Caving into repeated harassment

The dowry harassment had begun weeks before her wedding in 2013 to Elan Cheran, a doctor. While Indira says that Elan’s family demanded Rs 25 lakh, they eventually paid up Rs 15 lakh in cash, and 100 sovereigns of gold in the hope that it would secure their daughter’s future happiness.  But it was never enough.

The harassment began days after the wedding. “Her mother-in-law would scold her for everything. They did not even let her eat food properly. We even tried speaking to her mother-law but nothing changed,” says Indira.

Over the course of four years, Divya returned to her family home multiple times, each time with a plea not to send her back.  

“Divya used to keep coming back home and would tell us that she does not want to go back to her husband’s house. She was tortured there. How could we let her stay at home? She was young and I thought fights are common in every house. I would keep telling her respect your in-laws and do not argue with them,” recalls Indira.

Every time the chartered accountant came home with a fresh list of demands from her in-laws, her family would cave in. They coughed up Rs 7 lakh in cash, sent many gifts including a TV, beds and other household items.  

ge: Divya with her husband and in-laws

Now four years later, Indira admits that her biggest regret is sending her only daughter back to her harassers. She says, “The only mistake we did was to send her back to her in-laws’ house. I want to tell all parents that they should never send their daughters back if they tell them about any dowry harassment.”

The last time Divya had come to her parents’ home was two days before she was allegedly killed. This time she had arrived with her husband Elan and son.

“One month before the murder, her husband’s family treated her very well. They pretended that everything was fine. They did not want us to have any doubts. If I had known that they will murder her, I would have never sent her back. She herself would not have gone back,” laments Indira.

On July 17, Divya’s father-in-law and two other men allegedly hit her and suffocated her to death using a pillow. The father-in-law had allegedly confessed to the crime, telling the police that his wife and him had wanted their son to get married again so they could get more dowry.

Divorce never an option

Although Divya’s family never imagined that her in-laws would murder their only daughter, they admit that divorce was never an option.  

Premkumar says, "We never thought of divorce as an option as we thought everything will be alright in sometime. If we knew it will lead to my sister's death, we would have definitely thought of it."

The social stigma that comes with separation and divorce have forced many families including Divya’s to push for reconciliation, whatever the cost. With their marriage strained, Divya’s family hoped that taking the issue to the panchayat would help resolve their marital problems.  

“Both the families were called, we sorted out the problems and sent my daughter back,” recounts Indira.

But the harassment persisted. Divya would very often return home only to be sent back days later. It became routine, her family admits. “Her in-laws never used to allow her to stay at our house for more than three days. They will have some demand. I will take money or get whatever they want from my son and then we will send her back,” says her mother.

Following Divya’s murder, the police arrested five people in the case, including her husband Elan Cheran, his parents, and two other men - Shivakumar and Senthil. All five accused have been remanded to Trichy central prison, and a case has been filed under Section 498A (Husband or relative of husband of a woman subjecting her to cruelty) and Section 302 (Punishment for murder) of the Indian Penal Code.

“Around 10.30pm that night, her mother-in-law called me and asked me to come to their house, saying that Divya is unwell. By the time, I reached their home, they had taken her to a government hospital. When I reached the hospital, I realised she was murdered by her in-laws,” Premkumar recalls.

With Divya’s face covered in marks, Premkumar filed a complaint with the Mannargudi town police station the next day.

Her story, however, is hardly the first in Tamil Nadu or in India.

In 2015, Tamil Nadu reported 65 dowry deaths while across the country 7634 women had died following dowry harassment. In other words, according to  National Crime Records Bureau dowry claims at least 21 lives every day. The conviction rate, however, remains abysmally low at 34.7%.   

But Premkumar hopes and prays that justice will prevail and that Divya’s killers will be brought to book. “In most of the cases, the accused are out on bail. The court must punish them, so that, no one else does the same,” he says.

Link

Many terrorists' first victims are their wives - but we're not allowed to talk about that

In America, they call it the Day Three Story. After a mass shooting, depending on whether the suspect is young or old, white, Asian or black, Muslim or Christian, the press speculates on his motives (and yes, it is almost always a "he"). And then on Day Three, when attention has wandered elsewhere, when he's been deemed a "lone wolf" (white) or a "dangerous radical who hates our way of life" (Muslim), another piece of the jigsaw emerges. He has a history of domestic violence. 

Who are the most likely victims of an American mass shooter, by the way? Would you care to take a guess? It's overwhelmingly likely to be his family. (Of mass killers between 2009 and 2015, 16 per cent had previously been charged with domestic violence. More than half included a partner or close family member in their death toll.) We also know that the time a woman is most in danger from our violent partner is when she tries to leave - when he feels worried that his control is slipping away. 

These incidents are not often described as terrorism, despite a concerted attempt from women's groups to draw out the parallels with other mass killers. One of the most moving statements I've read this year was by the sons of Lance Hart, who killed his wife Claire, along with their daughter Charlotte, after she finally announced she would leave him. On Facebook, Luke Hart wrote:

"It was the result of decades of abuse and controlling and intimidating behaviour. He was a tyrant who wouldn’t let his family live outside of his domination. Our father was a terrorist living within our own home; he had no cause but to frighten his family and to generate his own esteem from trampling and bullying us. For over a decade we had tried to leave on numerous occasions but he manipulated and threatened on every occasion."

Lance Hart killed himself after shooting his wife and daughter - something which is typical in "family annilihation" cases. 

Full article

INTERNATIONAL This Pakistani Man Who Married A Girl For “UK’s Visa”, Gets Jailed After Beating Her With A Hammer

Deport this POS! 

So, this guy, he goes by the name Mohsin Akram unleashed the barbaric animal inside him to deal with his poor wife who just did not prepare dinner for him. He said that he wanted to teach her “how to be a good wife”. He’s 21 and before incurring his wrath on her reportedly told her, “you’ve had your chance to be a good wife,” reported prosecutor Stephen Donoghue. Afterward, he subjected her to a 10-minute attack. Not to forget, Mohsin was drunk and they were at their home in Cardiff.

The couple met on Facebook in August 2013 and Mohsin got married to the girl since he wanted a visa to the UK. He would not allow his wife a cell phone with access to the Internet. It was also reported that during the night he attacked his wife, Mohsin returned home fully drunk. He lost his temper after finding out that his wife didn’t cook dinner for him. Their four-month-old baby was present during the scene when the father beat the mother. She managed to flee the scene somehow after getting maimed and abused.

His wife, Mrs. Hussain, reportedly begged a group of girls out on the street to help her. One of the girls mentioned: “Even though it was night-time, we stood underneath an outdoor light and could clearly see she had cuts and a bruise on the side of her hand.” Mohsin is now jailed for 15 months after pleading guilty but is not going to be deported back to Pakistan, unfortunately.

link

https://www.parhlo.com/pakistani-man-jailed-abroad/

Break the Cycle - Domestic Violence

The Good Wife​

Long but worth the read. Very moving account.

One day, when I was in Grade 10, I was in my bedroom doing math homework. My mother walked in. She told me I’d received a marriage proposal. I laughed. “Mom, what are you talking about?” I asked. She didn’t crack a smile, and I realized she was serious. “I’m only 16,” I said. 
“I’m not ready for marriage.” She told me that I was lucky. The offer came from a nice man who lived in Canada. He was 28 years old and worked in IT. His sister was a friend of hers. The woman thought I’d make a perfect match for her brother—I was very tall, and he was six foot two. “They’re going to look so great together in pictures,” she had said to my mother.

For weeks, I pleaded with my mom not to make me go through with it. I’d sit at the foot of her bed, begging. She would tell me it was for my own good, and that a future in Canada would give me opportunities I wouldn’t have here at home. She assured me that she’d spoken to his family about my desire to continue my education. “You can go to school in Canada. And we don’t have to worry about you being alone,” she said. The next thing I knew, his parents were measuring my wrist for wedding bangles. The date was set for five months later, in July 1999.

In May 2001, I gave birth to our daughter. When we returned from the hospital, my husband slept on the couch while I stayed with the baby in the second bedroom. I’d never felt so alone. I fantasized about stealing money from my husband’s wallet and taking a cab to the airport, calling my parents and asking them to buy me a plane ticket home. But I didn’t want to leave my daughter behind.

When she was a few months old, we bought a four-bedroom house in Streetsville with his parents. I was rarely allowed to leave. I never had a penny to my name. My mother-in-law gave me her cast-off clothing to wear. I didn’t have a cellphone. I wasn’t allowed to go to the grocery store on my own. If I didn’t iron my husband’s shirts or make his lunch or finish my chores, he and my in-laws told me that I was a bad wife who couldn’t keep my family happy. I walked on eggshells all the time. If I asked my husband something, he would reply, “Bitch, get out of here.”

Two years in, the abuse got physical. He would grab my wrist and shove me around. I’d be sitting on the couch and he’d slap me upside the head, or grab me so hard on my upper arms that my skin would bruise. Once he tossed a glass of water in my face; I slipped on the floor and threw out my back. Another time he punched a hole in the wall next to my head and told me, “Next time, it’s going to be you.” On several occasions, he picked up a knife and said he was going to kill me and then himself.

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A Story That Will Terrify Every Man Who Abuses A Woman And Every Mother In Law Who Abuses Her Daughter In Law

Must read blog post by brother Babar Ahmad.

When I was in HM Prison Manchester I saw Rahan Arshad, a Pakistani taxi driver from Manchester who in 2006 battered his wife and three children, Adam (11), Abbas (8) and Henna (6), to death with a rounders bat.

After killing their mother, one by one he brought the three sleeping children downstairs where he battered their heads with the bat until he killed them.

At HM Prison Manchester I was on the high-security Category A unit but Arshad was on a separate unit, the VP (Vulnerable Prisoner) unit which houses rapists, paedophiles and rats (informers).

Vulnerable?!

The prison service considers them “vulnerable” to attack by other prisoners and so they are kept on separate units where they have no contact with mainstream prisoners. They only have contact with each other.

When I was in HM Prison Long Lartin I saw Mahmod Mahmod, a Kurdish man from Mitcham, south London who, along with his brother in 2006, supervised the two-hour long rape, torture and slow death of his own 20-year old daughter Banaz Mahmod in a so-called “honour killing.”

Mahmod was also held in a Vulnerable Prisoner unit but I used to see him in the corner of the prisoner-family visits hall.

He would always be holding in his hand a “tasbeeh” rosary bead that the devout use to remember Allah. The shocking thing was that he just looked like an ordinary guy.

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Religious Concepts Reexamined: Why Do We Continue Using Religious Teachings To Justify Domestic Violence?

Advising a woman to be “patient” in the face of abuse minimizes her experience, and may prevent her from seeking further assistance.  In reality, the concept of patience in Islam refers not to a state of stagnation, but rather towards progression, albeit under difficult circumstances.  Rather than shutting down a survivor’s attempt at seeking help, a more useful approach would be to hear her story, support her in her choices, and be a resource (rather than a roadblock) for her.  Furthermore, the reassurance that her situation will improve over time is factually incorrect.  Research suggests that the severity of DV escalates over time, and that what may start as emotional abuse may well develop into sexual or verbal abuse, or serious physical assault.  Therefore, those who encourage a woman to “put up with it” may unwittingly place her in a situation of increasing danger.

Another common response is to excuse the behavior of the abuser, often based on the idea that the husband is the head of the household and can behave as he wishes without being called to account.  In addition, women are often told that, after Allah, their obedience is due to their husband.  These claims have little basis in Islamic theologoy or the teachings of the Holy Prophet Muhammed (pbuh).  There are numerous hadith which elevate the status of women and emphasise the importance of kindness towards one’s wife and family.  There are no recorded narratives of the prophet using violence or misconduct towards his female family members, so why do we think that it’s acceptable for the men in our communities to do so?  While Islam promotes co-operation with and loyalty towards one’s husband, it does not sanction relationships in which one partner exerts coercive control over the other. Indeed, Islam states that partners are equals and that loyalty and kindness should be mutually expressed, and that poth parties are accountable for their actions.

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Carer murdered by husband over her work with men

A disgraceful munafiq murderer who orphaned his own children!

A man who told his wife it was "not halal" for her to work with other men as a carer has been jailed for life after admitting her murder.

Manchester Crown Court heard Imran Khan, 38, stabbed Nasreen Khan, also 38, at their home in Cheadle Hulme, Stockport on 18 April while five children were in the house.

Khan was extremely controlling of his wife, the court heard.

He was sentenced to life in prison with a minimum of 20 years.

Khan had sent his wife angry text messages which said "leave the job" and "I don't give permission", the court heard.

The court was told the couple had a volatile relationship and frequently split up.

'Nothing to lose'

Khan complained they had no physical intimacy and did not like that her job as a care assistant because it involved one-to-one contact with other men, even though she was not bathing them, the court heard.

Judge Patrick Field said it was a "merciless attack" and described Khan as a "selfish and controlling man" who "did little to support" his wife and family.

He told Khan there was "an element of jealousy of your wife's independence of mind".

"She was a devoted mother. She worked hard to support her family and she was good at that job", he said.

"Unless anyone should think there was a cultural clash, let it be said the evidence shows your parents and sister were entirely supportive of Nasreen's choice."

Mrs Khan told a colleague she was going to confront him and stand up for herself, the court heard.

On the night of her death, the court heard the couple had been arguing at their home on Cheadle Road.

The court learned when Mrs Khan told her husband she wanted him to leave, he said: "I've got nothing to lose now have I?"

He then phoned his father and the court heard he told him "I've got no choice. I'm going to kill her and kill myself."

There were five children in the house who the court was told heard her screams as he repeatedly stabbed her in the kitchen. He then phoned his father again, saying "I did it" before hanging up.

He discarded the knife on the driveway of their house before driving off.

Mrs Khan died later in hospital.

The court heard he told police: "I always loved her. I never meant to do nothing."

His lawyer told the court Khan was "genuinely remorseful".

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