Annie's Chronicles

Unheard Cries: The Harsh Reality of Violence Against Women in South Asia

Another tragic incident. Another woman silenced. This time, it was a 31-year-old trainee doctor, who after an exhausting day at one of India’s oldest hospitals, sought rest in a seminar hall. By morning, her colleagues discovered her half-naked body on the podium, bearing horrific injuries. The reality of violence against women in South Asia is brutal, relentless, and it needs to stop.

My Story
Before diving into the stats and the gravity of the situation, let me share a personal story—because it’s easy to get lost in numbers until you remember that each statistic is a woman’s life.

I was 15, taking a bus in Sri Lanka, dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and jeans. It was a typical day until a man, easily in his mid-50s, decided that my personal space, and my youth were his to violate. As I stood there, among the other passengers, I felt his hand graze my body. It wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t innocent. It was intentional, vile, and disgusting. Before I could even process what was happening, reflex took over, and I slapped the man who had violated my space. You’d think the people on the bus, some of whom saw what he was trying to do, would have questioned him or stood up for me. But no—many of them asked why I slapped him instead. Not one word was said to the man who assaulted me. It was a slap in the face in more ways than one. I got off the bus, hailed a tuk-tuk, and went home. I never took the bus again. That day, I learned the hard way how society often blames the victim, and it was an experience that shaped my understanding of the world.

Here’s the thing: before anyone dares to tell me, “it’s what you were wearing,” or “you were asking for it,” know this—I wasn’t. I was just a 15-year-old girl trying to get home, minding my own business, in a society that should have protected me but didn’t.

Stats on the Violence Against Women in South Asia
The story of that trainee doctor in India is one of many in South Asia. The statistics paint a grim picture:

  • 1 in 3 women worldwide has experienced physical or sexual violence.
  • 2 in 3 women report that they or a woman they know has experienced violence.
  • 33% of women in Southeast Asia aged 15-49 will face physical and/or sexual violence from a partner in their lifetime.
  • In Asia, 20,000 women were killed by intimate partners or family members in 2017 alone.
  • 44% of all child brides globally are from South Asia.

And the worst part? Most of the time, the violence comes from someone the victim knows—a partner, a family member, a friend, or a neighbour.

Why Don’t Women Speak Up?
It’s not that women don’t want to speak up; it’s that the system is rigged against them. Women are less likely to report sexual abuse because they fear retaliation, rejection, victim-blaming, and stigmatisation. Let’s be real—when only 77 countries worldwide criminalise marital rape, can we blame them for being afraid?

In South Asia, where deep-rooted patriarchal values still dictate much of society, the blame often falls on the victim. How many times have we heard, “What was she wearing?” or “She must have provoked him”? It’s maddening, infuriating, and it needs to change.

Breaking the Silence
If we’re going to change this narrative, it starts with us—women, men, everyone. We need to stop shaming victims and start holding perpetrators accountable. We need stronger laws, better enforcement, and more support systems for survivors. And we need to educate our boys from a young age that violence against women is never okay.

But it also starts with breaking the silence. Every time we share our stories, every time we refuse to be silenced, we chip away at the power that abusers hold. The more we speak out, the less they can hide.

The death of that young doctor is a tragedy, but it’s one of countless others that happen daily. It’s time to stop treating these incidents as isolated cases and recognise them for what they are—a systemic problem that requires systemic change. And that change starts with all of us, speaking up, demanding better, and refusing to back down.

So the next time someone asks why women don’t speak up, remind them of this: it’s not about what we’re wearing, it’s about what they’re doing. And we’re done being silent.