Deep wounds: In the Arab Region, survivors of gender-based violence wonder where to turn
“He told me he was in love with me and was planning to propose to me soon,” says Layla* about her relationship with the head of a company she worked for in Morocco. “I trusted him.”
But mixed in with the declarations of love was coercion and violence.
“He hit me whenever I disagreed with him,” she says. She endured sexual and emotional violence. “He became more and more violent as the days passed. He made me believe that I stood no chance against him.”
When she finally went to the police, accompanied by a friend, Layla didn’t know what to expect. “I was at a stage of my life where nothing seemed to matter anymore. I was pregnant, unmarried, and lonely. I was afraid that [the police] wouldn’t believe me,” she explains.
Three in 100 women
Layla is but one of many survivors of gender-based violence, or GBV. Prior to the COVID-19 crisis, more than 1 in 3 partnered women in the Middle East and North Africa said they had experienced physical and/or sexual intimate partner violence.
But, also like Layla, most of them are reluctant to report the violence.
The fear of being shamed or blamed by the police and lack of trust in the justice system discourages most women from seeking help. Indeed, a 2019 national survey in Morocco, only 3 out of 100 women survivors of sexual violence report incidents to the police.
Not 3 in 10 women. Three in 100.
Therein lies part of the reason that gender-based violence (GBV) is so intractable — in Morocco and around the world, in all countries and cultures, in all social and economic classes. Many women do not trust the system that is supposed to protect them.
The deeper problem is that survivors of GBV are often correct in their mistrust. In too many cases, the police will shame or blame survivors, if only unwittingly. Oftentimes, the police can or will do little or nothing to protect survivors or bring the abuser to justice.
In such cases, the police may end up doing more to protect the perpetrator than the survivor.
Domestic violence in a temporary home
“What is more painful isn’t the beatings and injuries inflicted on me, but rather the psychological trauma I underwent after the assault,” says Muna.*
Muna, age 23, lives with her husband and three children at a camp for internally displaced persons (IDPs) in Somalia. In May of this year, Muna and her husband argued over the home, and he ended up beating her.
“I vividly recall what happened that Friday morning,” says Muna. “My husband caused serious injuries to my body. I left the homestead to seek medical help and to escape from him.”
Luckily for Muna, the same day as her ordeal, the IDP camp was being visited by the Rural Education and Agriculture Development Organization GBV team, supported by UNFPA Somalia. Muna received medical services and psychosocial counselling.
UNFPA offers psychosocial assistance, medical treatment, and rape kits to survivors, and promotes the right of all women and girls to live free of violence and abuse.
Muna says the ongoing support “has helped me regain my self-esteem and courage.”
Meeting — and believing — survivors
In Morocco, Somalia, and around the world, UN agencies are helping to prevent gender-based violence from happening.
But when such violence does happen, UN agencies are also working to support survivors. That first contact, when a survivor approaches someone for help, is critical.
“It takes a lot of determination and courage for women to ask the police for support,” says Saliha Najeh, Police Chief at Casablanca Police Unit for Women Victims of Violence. “Our role is to give survivors all the time they need to feel safe and comfortable, and for them to trust us enough to tell their story.”
Over the past few years, UN Women has supported the Moroccan government in restructuring the national police force to better support women survivors and to prevent violence against women. At 132 police stations, units for women victims of violence now not only investigate cases, but also make women’s initial contact with police as good as possible, by listening, recording, accompanying, and making referrals.
When Layla finally did go to the police station, she was relieved when a woman police officer greeted her. “The first thing she told me was that there is a solution to everything. Her words encouraged me to tell her the whole story. She listened to me with great care and attention.”
“Meeting her,” says Layla, “made me realize that I still had a chance to get my life back.”
And so she has. Layla now has a baby daughter. Sitting in the single mother’s shelter that police referred her to, Layla holds her daughter’s tiny hand. “She is my hope,” says Layla. “Recently, I completed my bachelor’s degree in mathematics. I was studying while taking care of my baby at the shelter.”
*Name changed to protect the survivor’s identity.
Story is based on two stories originally published to the UN Somalia and UN Women websites. Story from Somalia was produced by UN Somalia and the story from Morocco was produced by UN Women.
Editorial support provided by Elie Baaklini and Paul VanDeCarr of the Development Coordination Office. For more information on the United Nations' work in Somalia, please visit: Somalia.UN.org. To learn more about the results of our work in this area and beyond, please read the UNSDG Chair Report on DCO.
