Uma K.C., 26, has filed a case against her abusive husband.

Uma K.C., 26, is survivor of severe domestic abuse.

It wasn’t long before she found herself on the street, hungry. She didn’t have the skill set to obtain a proper job, so she found work in a dance bar. Dance bars, frequented mostly by local men, would be classified in the U.S. as strip clubs. Unlike the U.S., however, sex can often be found on the menu.

Within a year, she met a 52-year-old widower named Lakshmi. He was kind and frequented the dance bar. He told her that he was lonely. He had been married before, but his wife had died, leaving him without any children to care for. He didn’t have anyone to live with and he needed a wife to give him hot water. He wanted to marry her; he could provide for her, and she would be able to quit the dance bar. Believing that she had met a good man, Uma married Lakshmi in 2001.

Soon after, the torture began. He often abused her, using a kukri or grinding stone typically used for grain. He told her that he was not getting the sexual satisfaction he needed and forced her to perform oral sex, something that she was not comfortable doing. He told her he needed to share his bed with other women and continued to visit dance bars. He refused to wear protection and forbid Uma from using contraception. During their marriage, she was pregnant four times. Each time, he made her get an abortion.

She later learned that he was still married; in fact, he had never been widowed at all. His first wife, and grandchildren of theirs, lived with him in the city. His wife was unaware that he had married Uma. Later investigations would uncover that he used his job as an excuse to get away. A driver who was sometimes required him to spend nights away from home, he often told his wife that he was working late and would stay with Uma.

A friend told Uma about Raksha Nepal, an NGO that helps victims of prostitution, human trafficking, and domestic abuse. They advised her to speak up and seek justice, but first she would need to prove they were married. The law at the time did not provide protection to women who were victims of unmarried domestic abuse. She would need to produce a marriage certificate in order to file charges.

Uma knew what she had to do. One night in December 2007, she decided that she would request a copy of their marriage certificate from Lakshmi. To soften the mood, she prepared a meal made up of meats and large dishes. At the end of the night, she requested a copy of their marriage certificate and her citizenship, something husbands are required to sign in Nepal.

Lakshmi was skeptical. Realizing Uma was up to something, he grew angry. In the midst of an argument, he doused her body with gasoline and set her on fire. A neighbor overhead her screams and saved her.

Uma still has full use of her hands, badly scarred from a tragic night nearly two years ago. She is using them to develop new skills, such as driving.

Uma still has full use of her hands, badly scarred from a tragic night nearly two years ago. She is using them to develop new skills, such as driving.

Her hands and body, badly scarred, are daily reminders of the abuse she endured. Raksha Nepal is helping her to file a case, but it is difficult since there is no marriage certificate and Lakshmi burned all of their wedding photos. In a creative attempt to get around the law, they have produced copies of her abortion certificates as evidence. In order to get an abortion, a husband is required give permission. All four times, Lakshmi came to the hospital and signed his name.

Since the investigation began, the police have told Raksha Nepal and Uma that Lakshmi is missing. Witnesses, however, have seen him riding his motorbike in the city with other women. They suspect that he paid off the police. The neighbor who helped Uma is also nowhere to be found. In their own investigation, sources have told Raksha Nepal that he was paid 10,000 rupees to disappear, approximately $133 U.S. dollars.

Uma’s story highlights the difficulty in fighting domestic violence in Nepal, but it also provides one example of courage. Although she has not been awarded justice in the legal system, she is bright eyed, laughed during much of our interview, and is learning new skills. She now lives with other survivors, who are also being helped by Raksha Nepal.

A brief issued by the Obama administration allows immigration courts to consider victims of domestic abuse as a persecuted group under the law. In addition to standard requirements, victims must prove extreme abuse, that there is a widespread belief in their culture that domestic violence is acceptable, and that the government does not adequately provide protection to victims.

This is a landmark decision that highlights the intersection between gender, culture, violence, and gun control. The case that helped initiate this policy involves a Mexican woman who was raped at gunpoint, held captive, and set on fire by her common-law husband.

Her story is not confined to Latin America. Women in Nepal face similar abuse in their homes, due to widespread tolerance of violence against women, easy access to conventional weapons, and an increasing market for illegal guns.

And although the government recently passed a domestic violence law providing justice to victims of abuse, women may still be reluctant to come forward. According to a 2008 study by Saferworld, only 53 percent of women in Nepal would feel comfortable reporting family violence to the police. This makes determining the scope of a problem, like the use of arms in domestic violence, difficult.

The campaign to disarm domestic violence is aimed at strengthening institutions within home countries, rather than compelling victims to seek foreign assistance or asylum elsewhere. The U.S.’s commitment to help survivors of domestic violence is certainly laudable, but it emphasizes the need for international governments to address this issue on their own soil. Victims should not be forced to leave their own country in order to find protection from abuse.

1. - The term domestic violence encompasses more than physical abuse. The law defines it as physical, mental, sexual, emotional, and economic abuse in any familial relationship.

1. - The law does not only apply to violence against women. Abusive acts directed towards any person who does, or at some point has, lived under the same roof as the perpetrator and is related in some way can be punished under the law. In my last post, I mentioned that a woman must prove her marriage in order to file a claim. I will look further into whether this was prior to the new law or if this is a loophole that still exists.

1. - The court has the power to offer protection, if needed, to a victim during the investigation of a complaint. It can also mandate that compensation is provided, or basic needs are met, during the trial.

1. - Attempting to commit an act of domestic violence or inciting someone else to commit one can also be punished under the law.

1. - Repeat offenders are subject to double the punishment the second time they commit an offense.

1. - Public officials are subject to ten percent longer punishments.

1. - The statute of limitation is 90 days after the crime.

On one hand, I find the law to be very strict and for good reason. A 2008 study by Saathi found that 93 percent of women in Nepal are exposed to mental and emotional torture, 82 percent are beaten, 30 percent are raped, and 28 percent are forced into prostitution**. These numbers clearly show a strong domestic violence law-one that takes into account more than just physical abuse-is needed.

Domestic abuse takes many forms. Depriving a woman of economic opportunities, for example, can lead to situations that foster domestic violence. Countless women in Nepal were displaced during the conflict; many of them, lacking sufficient job skills, have turned to sex work. It is important that the law takes into consideration contributing factors.

On the other hand, I find the law too wide-ranging to be effective. Any family relationship and almost any form of mistreatment can be prosecuted. Just attempting to commit an act defined as domestic violence or provoking someone else to do so is punishable. The law also does not reference specific types of physical violence or establish appropriate penalties. For example, there is no mention of weapons. Theoretically, a perpetrator could receive the same sentence for verbally abusing his wife as he could for shooting her.

I am curious to see how claims filed under this law will play out in court.

What are your thoughts on the first domestic violence law in Nepal? How do you feel about some of the more interesting provisions, such as mandating a ten percent longer punishment for public servants? Please share your comments below.

**Gender Action for Peace and Security (2009). Global monitoring checklist of women, peace, and security. Available at http://www.peacewomen.org/resources/1325/GAPS_MonitoringChecklist.pdf

This is most evident in laws that affect women, including those regarding cases of domestic violence. Three weeks ago, the first law specific to domestic violence was passed in parliament. It is not yet published in English so I haven’t been able to look over it myself, but I have heard it is a huge success for women’s rights groups. Until then, there were laws that provided protection to victims of domestic violence. However, these provisions existed under separate laws regarding criminal activity. They are now consolidated into one domestic violence law.

The new law, however, does not include protection for women who have been victims of marital rape. This law, enacted after a Supreme Court decision, falls under a separate law. The Forum for Women’s Law and Development, an organization I met with this past week, represented the plaintiff in the deciding case that made marital rape illegal. Bimala Khadka, an advocate at the organization, estimates that 70 percent of all criminal cases in Nepal have to do with domestic violence. She said that violence against women in Nepal is “easily taken,” but that the government is trying to set up resources that will help victims. The new budget, which passed recently, includes funding to create women’s shelters for victims of domestic violence in every single district in Nepal. Currently, a few shelters run by NGOs exist.

Bimala Khadka, an advocate for FWLD in Kathmandu, Nepal

Bimala Khadka, an advocate for FWLD in Kathmandu, Nepal

There is one loophole in the law: women can only file a case against their husbands. In other words, a boyfriend, lover, or any other man in her life is protected from prosecution. It also means that in order to file charges against her husband, she must prove the marriage by means of a legal document. This is a challenge that Uma K.C., a woman I interviewed on Friday, is currently facing. Her story is extremely sad and I will be posting my interview with her in a few days. But her story, like many others in Nepal, show that the law and order system can be corrupt, making bribes to drop charges or to suggest a defendant has “disappeared” commonplace.

The new domestic violence law has penalties of at least six months, with a maximum sentence of ten years, for men who beat their wives. Marital rape carries a sentence of two to three years in jail.

Bimala said most cases of abuse do not involve guns, but domestic weapons including a traditional Nepali knife, kukri. She said obtaining a licensed gun in Nepal is extremely difficult. I have yet to learn if the domestic violence law mentions specific weapons, including small arms.

Please see some highlights from my interview with her below.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=e2mLMOydEQk

Unfortunately, Uma was not feeling well so I was unable to take video footage of my interview with her. She is resting at the doctor’s recommendation, so I met with her in her home. During our discussion, she shared with me her thoughts on gender discrimination in Nepal and Ruwon’s approach to fighting it.

“Women in Nepal face discrimination from the womb,” Uma told me. Since Nepal is a patriarchal society, the birth of a son is valued at more than that of a daughter. This is due, in part, to religious beliefs that only a son can help give salvation to his ancestors. In Hinduism, it is traditionally believed that only sons or elder grandsons can perform shraddha, or funeral rites that pay homage to the dead. Even though some villages closer to the city now allow women to perform funeral rites, Uma said that traditional beliefs lead some families to abort a pregnancy for this reason if they discover that it is a girl.

In more rural areas, which make up the majority of Nepal’s population, this type of discrimination may persist throughout a woman’s lifetime. Traditionally, a woman belongs in the home, taking care of the children and household chores. Her property is her husband’s. In fact, until recently inheritance laws only allowed sons in the family to inherit property. In the event there are no sons, property is inherited to the men in the husband’s family.

Husbands have traditionally been given multiple provisions in the law to divorce their wives or remarry additional women. The primary reasons include if his wife did not give birth to any children in the first eight years of a marriage, if she did not bear him any sons, or if she displayed “misdemeanor characteristics.” Divorce for women was allowed under only one provision: after her husband’s death.

Uma told me that these laws have since been changed. Legally, men are not allowed to have multiple wives or divorce for these reasons. However, as seems to be common in Nepal, there is little enforcement and many rural areas continue to practice traditional norms without regard to the law.

It is very difficult to change gender roles, particularly those that are grounded in traditions and beliefs. Ruwon Nepal focuses on educating women and promoting awareness of these issues as a way to what Uma calls “culture refinement.” She believes that Nepali culture thinks of a woman’s social self, a term she uses to describe a woman’s role in the community, and does not focus enough on her as an individual person.

This is part of the problem in raising awareness of domestic violence. According to Ruwon, one in three women in Nepal are victims of domestic violence. Many women, Uma said, are aware that they are being mistreated and try to get help, often from her own or her husband’s family. Instead of being told to think about herself and her own needs, she is often told to think about how leaving a marriage or exposing her husband’s behavior will affect her family and her community. In this way, she is urged to put her social self and the sustainability of her family before her individual self, and tolerate violence because of a social stigma attached to divorce.

“Human rights are individual issues,” Uma said, adding that through education, “a girl child can become an individual.” Originally from a rural village outside of Kathmandu that still has no electricity or water, Uma is the only woman in her village not currently doing traditional housework. She completed her master’s degree in education and is currently pursuing a doctorate at Tribhuvan University. Her research on gender, identity, and education has been published widely and her master’s thesis, titled Beyond Patriarchy, is set to be published in the next year.

“When we read, we become clearly aware,” she said, “and intolerant of these issues.” Her husband, who was present during our discussion, told me not a day goes by that she doesn’t talk about how something is gender biased in Nepal.

A professor in the journalism department at Tribhuvan University, her husband said that he was unaware of women’s issues until he married Uma. Interestingly enough, their marriage was arranged by one of her brothers. Since their marriage, he has learned more about women’s rights in Nepal, currently serves on Ruwon’s advisory board, and tries to include some of his wife’s experiences in the field in his classroom discussions. Sometimes, he finds himself pointing out gender bias to others.

Uma joined Ruwon Nepal three years ago, after meeting Dhruba Prasad Ghimire through a mutual professor. Dhruba, who I met at the bicycle rally launching the “Disarm Domestic Violence” campaign, founded the organization in Sinhuli, a rural area in Nepal. He was the one kind enough to set up a meeting between Uma and me.

The organization is optimistic about change for women in Nepal, citing the increase in women in parliament. However, Uma says NGOs are still facing a lot of work given the current political situation.

Now that everything has “sprouted up so fast, everyone wants something,” she said.

This is my first experience shooting and editing video. I plan to do a lot more for this issue in the near future, including profiles, so I would appreciate any feedback that you might have. How can I use video to highlight the connection between domestic violence and gun control in Nepal? What would be useful to you in learning about this issue? What do you think would be helpful to policy makers?

I would love to hear your thoughts on using new media in advocacy.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=gUQm_6TRNWA

In fact, women are three times more likely to die violently due to one factor alone: if a gun is present in the house. In many cases, the crime is committed by a spouse or partner-someone with a prior history of domestic abuse. Gun control laws and domestic violence laws are rarely harmonized, creating a loophole that allows people with a history of domestic abuse to purchase firearms or maintain licenses for those that they already own.

Preventing situations like this, and increasing awareness of this issue, are the main goals of IANSA’s “Disarming Domestic Violence” campaign, which I will be working on for the remainder of the summer.

"Disarming Domestic Violence" campaign launch

In the first international campaign of its kind, IANSA and 85 partner organizations around the world, including SAP-Nepal, are making the connection between gun control and domestic violence. Out of nearly 900 million small arms in the world today, more than 75 percent are in the hands of private individuals-most of them men-putting women in these households at a significant risk.

Last Friday was the launch date for the campaign here in Nepal. SAP-Nepal, collaborating with SASA Net Nepal and Yatra, organized a bicycle rally to launch the campaign. More than 61 people (including myself!) participated in the rally, biking between four major political party offices and delivering a memorandum of policy suggestions to top party officials.

The party representatives who took the memorandum with appreciation and signed a commitment to “disarm domestic violence” included: Mr. Narayan Prasad Daha, Central Committee Member and CA Member of the UCPN-Maoist party; Mr. Nanda Kishore Yadav, Office Secretary of the Madhesee Youth Forum – Nepal (MJF); Mr. Ram Krishna Tamrakar, former minister and Center Committee Member of the Unified Marxist Leninist (UML) party; and Mr. Ishwore Pokhrel, former minister and General Secretary of Nepali Congress (NC).

They agreed to bring up the issue, and the policy suggestions, at a future legislative meeting.

Supporters present policy recommendations to a Maoist party official

Supporters present policy recommendations to a Maoist party official

Mr. Ram Krishna Tamrakar, former minister and Center Committee Member of the Unified Marxist Leninist party signs the commitment to "disarm domestic violence"

Mr. Ram Krishna Tamrakar, former minister and Center Committee Member of the Unified Marxist Leninist party signs the commitment to "disarm domestic violence"

More photos from the event can be viewed here. Also, look forward some of my video footage in the coming week!

A street in Kathmandu during the bandh

Credit: Xinhua/Reuters Photo

During a bandh, no one is expected to open shop, including schools, or drive on main roads. Attempt to break the bandh, and you risk having rocks thrown at your windows, tires burned, and your car set on fire. As a result, streets are nearly deserted except for demonstrations and a small number of people on foot. Main roads, normally filled with the sounds of beeping motorbikes, are almost silent.

Credit: Xinhua/Reuters Photo

I know this, of course, because the Maoists declared one Monday.

Members of the Young Communist League (YCL) and other Maoist organizations ordered an all-day bandh after learning a local Maoist leader had been killed. Rumors circulating Kathmandu suggest that Youth Force, the younger wing of the Unified Marxist Leninist (UML) party may be responsible. The police, people are saying, may have helped cover up details.

This came after an uprising Sunday night between Maoist supporters and Nepalese police. While searching for a taxi that night, the AP fellows and I caught a glimpse of police in the street with large shields protecting them. Peering to get a better look, a man on the street told us there was a fight. We later learned it was a riot.

I didn’t hear about the bandh until the next morning, just 15 minutes before I was supposed to have my first day at the South Asia Partnership. Shobha, my contact there, wouldn’t be able to pick me up, so I would be starting on Tuesday.

I wanted to see what was going on. The caretaker of our guesthouse said it was safe to walk, especially for tourists. For some reason, the bandha doesn’t apply to tourists. It only applies to Nepali people, including those on bikes. Yesterday, demonstrators burned the bicycle of a doctor attempting to get to the hospital.

Meera, Jess and I went into the city on foot. There was an eerie quiet on the streets. More people were out than I expected but it wasn’t as lively as I remembered from the day before. I barely recognized Thamel, a popular tourist neighborhood, because it was so deserted. Most of the shops, including hotels, had metal shutters pulled down to protect their windows. It reminded me of parts of DC.

On the way to Thamel, we saw Maoist supporters carrying red hammer and sickle flags. One man carried a large one that he put on display in the center of a major intersection. A woman being transported in a rickshaw was carrying five. In both instances, I wish I had taken a photo, but was nervous since we seemed to be the only tourists out. I wasn’t sure how demonstrators would react, but I later learned that photography is fine. Next time, I’ll have some of my own photos to show you. And since I’ll be here more than two months, there will be a next time.

Credit: The Himalayan Times

The current political situation in Nepal is very complicated. I must admit, the more I learn about it, the more confused I am. People that I have spoken with in Kathmandu are frustrated. Every party has promised change but the government is so corrupt that when a new party takes power, nothing happens. Money that could be going towards development programs, they say, is often spent providing a “life of luxury” for its leaders. Children are frequently kidnapped from schools as a political tactic. Strong leadership is lacking and a political career is equated with being a criminal, so few people are willing to step up.

Earlier this year, Maoists threatened a ten-day bandh. This would have been incredibly destructive to Nepal’s economy, particularly for those individuals who rely on a day to day income. Fortunately, it only lasted a day. In times like this, it is hard to see what the future holds for the people of Nepal.

A cute monkey I saw while exploring Kathmandu during the bandh.

A cute monkey I saw while exploring Kathmandu during the bandh.

This word, derived from Sanskrit and used to express the greatest form of respect, is the most common greeting in Nepal. It translates to something similar to, “I bow to the divine in you.”

It is the only Nepali phrase that, as of now, I know by heart.

Armed with my Nepali pocket dictionary, I expected to be more than confused when I got off the plane. Surprisingly, it seemed everyone in the airport spoke English. Taxi drivers called to me from the sidewalk, “Hotel? Where are you going?”

Two young men, close to my age, approached me.

“Do you need a ride?”

No, I politely informed them, my friends would be picking me up. Truthfully, I wasn’t all that clear on the plans. Through email in Doha, another Advocacy Project fellow had offered to meet me at the airport so that we could take a taxi together. Meera, who is working with the Center for Eco-Agriculture Development in Nepal this summer, has been in Kathmandu for the past two weeks. Her first experience with a taxi cab driver was interesting. So instead of me trying to negotiate a price alone, she and another AP fellow were to meet me when my flight landed.

I didn’t have a contact number for either of them and I wasn’t really sure where we were planning to stay. But I had an idea. At any rate, I knew I would be able to recognize them. I had never met Meera before, but Jess and I met at the AP training in May. Jess had arrived last night and will be working this summer with the Jagaran Media Center.

So, when my flight landed in Kathmandu, I was expecting to easily recognize, at the very least, her long, blonde hair.

I didn’t. I peered through the swarms of people hanging out at the arrival gate. Some of these people were greeting passengers. Most of them were not. Young and old Nepali men were everywhere. It was loud, it was chaotic, and everyone wanted to offer me a ride to a much better priced hotel. After waiting ten minutes, I sat down on a bench outside.

“Are your friends Nepali or foreigner?” asked one of the young men, who told me his name was Romeo (“You know, like Romeo and Juliet?” he said. I didn’t believe him.)

“Foreigner.” This led to a long discussion between him, his friend, and me. They asked me about where I was from, what I was studying, if I was married already, and told me how much they liked our president, Barack Obama.

Romeo offered to buy me a cup of coffee. I said no.

“I’ll pay.”

“Now why would you do that?”

“Because,” he told me. “We’re friends now.”

I still said no. He asked again. And again. And after a few times, I said, “It’s okay, really.” Apparently, he only heard the okay. He sprung up and ran into the airport, emerging a few minutes later with a coffee. By this time, it was 6pm. I had been waiting for an hour.

“I don’t think your friends are coming. You should just go to a different hotel.”

They’re coming. At least, I think so. I was determined to wait a little longer. Around 6:35pm, I saw Jess and Meera walking through the parking lot. Romeo’s friend ran to greet them.

“Are you waiting on Isha?”

We all walked to the car like one big group of friends. Jess and Meera were in the front guiding the pack, me in the middle, and Romeo and his friend in the back. When we got in the cab, Romeo asked for money.

“But I bought you a coffee.” I groaned. I should have seen this coming. I didn’t have any Nepali rupees on me, so Jess and Meera covered it. They gave him twenty rupees. A little less than fifty cents.

Just like that, I remembered what it was like to be in a foreign country. Fortunately, I was able to share the cab ride with others. On the way to our guesthouse, they told me stories about why they were late, attempting to meet each other at the local “MC Donell’s” (of no relation to McDonald’s), and of the apparently popular “milk scam” Jess fell victim to. I am sure it will make it on her blog in the future. On the drive, I suspected that we would have many more interesting stories by the end of summer.

I spent last night in Doha, Qatar. Flying with Qatar Airways proved to be not only the least expensive choice, but also the most luxurious. Since my layover was so long between flights-15 hours overnight-they generously provided me with, for no additional cost, a room at The Grand Regency in Doha, dinner and breakfast, and transportation to and from the airport. I welcomed the long layover prior to departure, hoping that I would get to see a bit of Doha. Before leaving I read about beautiful white sandy beaches, the easiness for English speakers, and a city that had virtually no crime at all. Unfortunately, by the time I arrived at the hotel it was already dark. Though I had hoped to get a glimpse of more of the city than a 15 minute bus ride would afford me, I knew it was unwise to venture out at night in a foreign city, even if it was supposed to be safe. The final destination was not Qatar, but Nepal, and it would be wise to arrive in one piece.

My first view of Qatar from the plane.

My first view of Qatar from the plane.

The little bit of Doha that I did see was beautiful. It was much easier this morning, while it was light, to see the ornate Islamic architecture, the broad palm trees soaking up the desert heat, the fluidity of Arabic script juxtaposed with the English translation. Since yesterday, I decided to spend what time I did have in Qatar practicing my Arabic. It has been nearly a year since my last class and although I didn’t know the meaning of any of the words, I was thankful that I could still silently pronounce each word in my head.

The airport was vastly multicultural. I expected mostly Arabs, but was pleasantly surprised to see many South and East Asians, Europeans, and Africans. I watched the Arab men walk-glide, almost-in their thobe, a long white robe that drapes down to their ankles. On their head, they wore a ghutra,  a folded piece of cloth in either white or red and white checkered print. From the back, long black ropes with tassels at the end dangled near their waist. Most women wore headscarves, but others had their long dark hair uncovered or tied loosely in a bun. A few women wore even more conservative clothing, including an abaya and a burqa.

I wish I had more time in Qatar. I have never been to the Middle East before, but I have always been intrigued by the beautiful, rich culture that exists in Arabic countries. I promised myself to stay a few days, the next time I ended up on this side of the world. Apparently this is enough time to see Doha, a city that is still fairly new.

Before I left, I caught a glimpse of a street sign that made me laugh. It was a pedestrian sign to signal that people walking had the right of way, similar to in the U.S. Only instead of the black silhouette of a stick figure that I am used to, this silhouette was a man’s shape, draped in a traditional thobe. Since I had been told not to take pictures near or at the airport, I decided it was in my best interest to capture this image by memory. Hopefully, on the trip back I will be able to steal a photo so you can see how interesting this was.  For now, the small picture that I found online should do.

A Qatari street sign, signaling pedestrians.

A Qatari street sign, signaling pedestrians.