For many women, marriage begins with dreams of companionship, security and a shared future. But for some, those dreams slowly unravel behind closed doors, where financial pressure, addiction, and social expectations give way to fear, humiliation and abuse.
For Masiat (pseudonym), a 32-year-old housewife, violence did not begin on the day she got married. In fact, she remembers the early days of her marriage fondly. It was only after the birth of her son, when financial hardship struck, that her relationship took a devastating turn.
“After our son was born, we began facing financial difficulties. My husband started pressuring me to ask my parents for money. At first, I thought it was temporary, but it soon became a regular demand. It was humiliating. Even my sisters mocked me for repeatedly going back to my family for financial help.”
“When I finally refused to ask my parents for more money, he started beating me. I couldn’t tell anyone about the abuse. Even today, I continue to carry that pain and humiliation for the sake of my son, because in our society, divorce is still not looked upon kindly,” she said.
Her experience reflects a painful reality faced by many women, where economic pressure becomes a tool of control. What starts as a request for financial assistance can quickly escalate into emotional manipulation, threats and physical violence. In many households, women are expected to endure such abuse silently to preserve family honour or protect their children from the stigma of a broken home.
For 29-year-old schoolteacher Fariha Rahman, the abuse had a different trigger.
“I had no idea my husband was addicted to drugs when we got married. I only found out after our marriage. I kept asking him to quit, and every time he promised he would. But I discovered again and again that he was still using drugs. When I finally told him that I would leave if he didn’t stop, he started beating me. The violence became a part of my daily life. After enduring it for two years, I finally found the courage to walk away,” she recalled.
Leaving the relationship was not an easy decision. Like many survivors, Fariha spent years hoping things would improve before deciding that her safety and dignity had to come first.
Experts say this hesitation is common among survivors of domestic violence. Fear of financial instability, concerns for children, emotional attachment and social judgment often prevent women from leaving abusive relationships, even when their lives are at risk.
“Leaving an abusive relationship is rarely a single decision. Survivors often weigh their own safety against concerns about their children, financial security and social acceptance. That’s why communities need to offer support instead of judgment,” says social worker Ridwan Mahmud, 36.
Domestic violence is often perceived as physical assault, but its forms are much broader. Emotional intimidation, financial control, verbal abuse and coercion can gradually trap survivors in relationships where violence becomes a recurring cycle. The abuse may remain hidden from neighbours, relatives and even close friends, making it difficult for victims to seek help.
Social attitudes continue to be one of the biggest barriers to escaping violence. In many communities, women who choose separation or divorce face criticism, blame or social exclusion. As a result, countless survivors remain in unsafe environments, believing they have nowhere else to turn.
Legal experts, however, stress that domestic violence is not merely a private family matter. Bangladesh has enacted laws to protect women from abuse, including cases linked to dowry demands and domestic violence. Yet legal protection alone cannot guarantee justice if survivors are unable or unwilling to come forward.
“Dowry-related complaints are not merely family disputes. In many cases, they involve domestic violence, intimidation, mental cruelty, economic coercion, and physical abuse. Laws such as the Dowry Prohibition Act, 2018 and the Nari O Shishu Nirjatan Daman Ain, 2000 were enacted to provide strong protection against abuse and violence. Many survivors are aware, but fear of social stigma, financial dependence and lengthy legal processes often discourage them from seeking justice,” says Advocate Mithila Maliha of the Bangladesh Supreme Court.
Rights advocates say breaking the cycle of domestic violence requires more than legislation. Families, neighbours, workplaces and communities all have a role to play in creating safe spaces where survivors are believed rather than blamed. Access to counselling, legal aid, financial support and emergency shelter can make the difference between remaining trapped in an abusive relationship and beginning a new life.
The stories of Masiat and Fariha are different, yet they reveal a common truth: Domestic violence often grows in silence. Behind every closed door is a woman whose suffering may remain invisible until someone chooses to listen.
Ending domestic violence begins with recognising that abuse, whether physical, emotional or financial, is never a private matter. It is a violation of human dignity and fundamental rights. As more survivors find the courage to speak out, society must respond not with judgment, but with compassion, protection and justice. Only then can homes truly become places of safety rather than fear.
