South Asians fight domestic violence
A story on how the South Asian communities are grappling with DV issues.
Support groups help South Asian community fight domestic violence
BY LEEMA THOMAS-JOSEPH
Newsday Staff Writer
When "Asma" was 26 years old, her parents found her a suitable husband. She left her native town in South India and in 2001 moved to Pennsylvania to be with her life partner.
But her in-laws were part of the bridal package. Asma's dream of building a new life with her spouse soon turned into a nightmare.
"My father-in-law, mother-in-law and sister-in-law, they were treating me very badly. I wasn't interested in living in a joint family setup. I couldn't put up with the [verbal] abuse anymore."
Within a year, the marriage headed toward a breakup. And after her daughter was born, Asma, who asked that her real name not be used, moved with the child to Brooklyn and started her medical residency.
Sensing that her daughter needed a father, Asma and her parents, all practicing Muslims, felt she should remarry. Her parents arranged for her to meet a man from Atlanta. They wed in July 2004.
"Before the marriage, he told me he's going to be very nice to my daughter and be a good father to her. I never expected he would change so much after getting married."
Initially, "he was extremely verbally abusive," she said, but, after she became pregnant in February 2005, "he started physically abusing me. He'd slap me and push me. Hit me on my belly," she said.
The abuse continued, eventually forcing her to take legal measures after her husband fled the country with their newborn son.
Recalling her story of survival recently, Asma said the experience left her feeling depressed and in "a deep, dark pit." A friend referred her to the Domestic Harmony Committee, an anti-domestic-violence group based at the Islamic Center of Long Island in Westbury. The group became her lifeline to safety and sanity. It played a crucial role in her life, Asma said during a recent interview.
She calls herself a survivor now. And to women -- especially those from South Asia and the diaspora facing a similar plight, where a victim is further ostracized by talking about it -- she urges: "You need to speak out and take a step for yourself, even if it means the marriage is going to end. You have to do it."
The Harmony committee
The Domestic Harmony Committee was formed in 1992, originally to serve Muslim women -- with its twin mission to promote harmony and to end domestic violence in Muslim families. But today, women from diverse nationalities across Long Island seek its services, members said. Last year, the group had a caseload of about 60 women. Its services include a hotline, evaluations, support groups, counseling and referrals for financial and legal aid. It also conducts workshops and seminars for the community.
The committee, a group based at the Islamic Center of Long Island, relies on grants and private donations from the community, said Homaira Mamoor of West Islip, a committee member, and has a 2007 operating budget of about $25,000. The group of 10 to 12 volunteers includes psychiatrists, social workers, doctors and advocates.
Support groups such as this play a vital role in the South Asian community by providing language-specific and culturally sensitive services to women who trace their origins to Bangladesh, India, Nepal, Pakistan, Sri Lanka and the South Asian diaspora, including the Indo-Caribbean.
The needs of Muslim women are different, said Dr. Kushalata Jayakar-Ahmed, a psychiatrist and founding member of the Domestic Harmony Committee. While groups including Nassau and Suffolk counties' domestic violence agencies provide emotional and legal resources, she said, "Muslim women were not accessing these services successfully." When they go to shelters, they cannot abide during Ramadan or other holidays, for instance, due to dietary and cultural restrictions, "so they go back home and experience further abuse."
In addition to seeking cultural support, Mamoor said, when women call for help, "basically they want to know where and how they should start. Where should they go? And that's how we try to help."
Jayakar-Ahmed, a native of India, said, "we never tell them what to do. Leave the marriage or not. We help them understand why they are making their decision. The bottom line is empowerment in every situation, not just in crisis."
Violence in the family
Domestic violence is a pattern of controlling behavior "that is unhealthy, sometimes fatal," said Purvi Shah, executive director of Sakhi, a Manhattan-based domestic violence service group that was created to address a critical need within New York's large South Asian immigrant population. "It's not just physical or sexual assault but also economic and financial abuse," Shah said. "It may start with verbal and often escalates to other kinds of violence."
Violence against women is no more or less prevalent among South Asians or immigrants than in other cultures, she said. "It happens across communities and populations, but immigrant women have a harder time in their journey to safety -- whether or not it means leaving an abusive relationship -- because of their immigration status, language barriers, social isolation and lack of financial resources."
They also have less access to legal and social services than others, Shah said, adding there is little statistical data available on the incidences of domestic violence-related injuries and fatalities in the South Asian community in New York.
Immigrant women tend to suffer in silence because of the cultural stigma of shame and divorce in the community, said Sandeep Kaur Bathala, direct services director for Sakhi, who also is in charge of volunteer training, staff supervision and policy advocacy. A compounding factor is the extended family setup, where it's not just the partner but other family members as well who perpetuate violence, she said.
Sandy's saga
It took a huge step for Sandy (who did not want her last name used) to turn her life around, and Sakhi -- which means "woman friend" in many South Asian languages -- and its staff became more than friends in need.
When Sandy first met the man of her dreams at a charity dance in New Jersey in 2001, he swept her off her feet. But after a few weeks into her marriage that year, she realized the man she married was not the same who had romanced her.
First came the verbal assaults, harassing her about cooking, cleaning, chores and the children from both of their previous marriages. Then came the physical blows, said Sandy, who was born in Guyana, reared in Trinidad, and later moved to New York.
"The first time he hit me was in March 2001. We were going to go away for a vacation. He said we can go away for a long drive, but, before we left, my stepson was giving me a hard time. So when he went to his dad and told him, my husband started screaming and yelling, and he hit me."
Another time when she got home after work, she said, "He made me sit in the kitchen chair till 3 or 4 in the morning. If I have to go to the bathroom, no. If I have to get water, no. He kept me home from work... .
"He beat me brutally. I had a stab on my head. My whole face was burst."
That was the turning point for Sandy, 37, of Queens, an assistant director at a doctor's office in Manhattan. On the fourth day, she was allowed to return to work. "He said, 'If you say anything to anybody then, whenever you come back home I'm gonna cut your tongue out and pull your nails out, and you will not be able to talk to the cops.'"
She said she covered up her bruises with makeup, but showed her boss what her husband did to her. "He said, 'You need to go to the police station.'"
The police report she filed was just the beginning of her legal saga, which ended with her husband's arrest. Her journey to safety and rediscovering her self-worth has been arduous, but she credits Sakhi, which she called in November 2004, with her progress.
Now she calls herself a "fighter" and is helping put a face on domestic abuse by sharing her story at Sakhi-sponsored marches and awareness events against violence.
A safe place
Sakhi's mission is two-fold, said violence program advocate Fatma Zahra. It creates a safe place through support and friendship -- offering an array of services for South Asian women, and it "encourages the community to help stop violence against women."
Her self-esteem during the years of abusive marriage was "zero," Sandy said. She reclaimed her life and dignity after accessing Sakhi's services. She started taking self-help workshops, health, yoga and job skills classes and attended support groups.
"I was a person helping myself. I had to build that self-esteem back and power myself up. When I did that, I see I am a fighter. I am a strong person. Nobody can take that away from me."
Sakhi's services include crisis intervention such as assistance in accessing legal help, health services, public benefits and housing. At Sakhi, calls to its helpline have more than tripled in the past five years, said executive director Shah, due to increased awareness and outreach -- not necessarily because the incidences of violence are increasing.
It has an ongoing caseload of about 50, with 685 new requests for assistance in 2006. Not all new calls for information or support turn into ongoing cases, Shah said. "Many people start with getting information and then wait to make a decision or come to programming at a later point. Everyone who calls Sakhi gets referrals and information as well as develops a safety plan with staff." Sakhi's funding, she said, comes from special events, foundation and corporate grants, government contracts and private donations. It has an operating budget of less than $700,000, she said.
Need to educate community
Sakhi takes the anti-domestic abuse message to the streets through marches against violence, melas (festivals) and other events. Last fall's mela in Richmond Hill was a celebration of life and family, as well as an occasion to educate the community, Shah said. "We want the community to take charge."
In December, Sakhi survivors and their children, volunteers and staff started work on a patchwork dupatta. Each person decorated a swatch of fabric to illustrate their own strength, passions or resilience. In the end, the pieces will be sewn together to make a dupatta (a Hindi word).
Educating and "reaching out to the community is the most important part" at the Domestic Harmony Committee, said Dr. Asma A. Ejaz, its chairwoman and a psychiatrist.
The youngest group member is Zainab Ali, 25, a social worker from East Meadow. Born and raised in the United States, Ali said she has "seen very traumatic situations up close and personal," but "people think this never happens in the desi [South Asian] community. They don't talk about it."
Because of her activism, her parents, who represent the cultural view that abused women shouldn't reveal personal issues, now have a changed perspective, she said.
With help from lawyers, Asma, whose spouse fled with their newborn son, obtained a state and federal warrant against her husband. Her son was listed in the national database of missing children. On Oct. 28, 2006, the day her son turned a year old, her husband was arrested re-entering the United States with their son. He is now out on bail and Asma has recovered her son.
Through her ordeal, Asma has been resilient, passing her medical boards and starting a new job as a physician. She also has filed for divorce and is seeking custody of her son.
Despite the uncertainties of her case, she said, she knows she has become stronger and more confident. As for Sandy, even as her divorce, custody and child support cases wend their way through the court system, she has gone from victim to survivor to advocate.
"Nobody can walk in my life and come and destroy me like what I accepted before. It's unacceptable. As a woman, I have pride. I have dignity and I have a high self-esteem."
Copyright 2007 Newsday Inc.