Why gender-based violence in Toronto's Bangladeshi community often goes unreported

WARNING: This story contains graphic descriptions of intimate partner violence and attempted suicide.

For Afsana Rahman, the nightmare began immediately after her wedding in 2016.

She says her family had arranged her marriage to someone she barely knew during the holy month of Ramadan. On their first night alone, she says her new husband began behaving in a way that scared her.

"I'm quite used to being a people's person …  and never had fear of people. But he's the first person I started fearing," said Rahman.

That night, Rahman says, he sexually assaulted her. She would go on to endure years of physical, sexual and verbal abuse at the hands of her husband in Bangladesh and in Toronto after they immigrated to Canada in 2018. She says a lack of support from family, cultural barriers and not knowing what resources were available to her prevented her from speaking out.

"I made a pact with myself that no matter what happens with me ... I won't allow anybody to know," said Rahman.

A new study by researchers with a Toronto non-profit called the Canadian Centre for Information and Knowledge is shedding light on gender-based violence against women in the Bangladeshi community during the pandemic and the long-term impacts it can have. The centre says through its outreach, it discovered the problem got worse in the community after COVID-19 struck in 2020. The study says among the 77 Toronto-area women who were surveyed, more than half reported experiencing violence and most didn't report it to the authorities. 

Rahman says her husband took control of all her social media accounts, her passport and bank accounts. She says he forced her to perform sex acts on camera, among other sexual demands. 

She says she lived in constant fear — unable to sleep. Two months later, she says she tried to commit suicide.

"In that moment, I couldn't take it. And I drank poison," said Rahman.

After she recovered, she says the abuse escalated to beatings. It wasn't until 2019 that she was able to get the help she needed.

The researchers say they began investigating the trends through focus groups, surveys and in-depth interviews with survivors and community agencies after noticing the uptick in reports of violence during the pandemic.

"Through our program and services, we have identified that not any research of this kind has happened within our community," said Touhida Choudhury, the centre's director.

Half of those surveyed said they were victims of domestic violence during the pandemic, and three-quarters of those who had experienced violence said it happened in their homes. 

Two-thirds surveyed said they didn't speak out about what was happening to them for cultural reasons — specifically being raised in a male-dominated society.

"They actually are being taught that what's happening, you have to keep yourself quiet," said Choudhury.

'He could have killed me'

Sharmin was once a social worker in Bangladesh who advocated for the vulnerable. But even as a strong, independent woman, she says she struggled to leave her abusive situation.

Sharmin is not her real name and CBC News has agreed to withhold her identity because of ongoing court orders involving her former spouse.

She says her husband started hitting, pushing and slapping her not long after they got married, but she never spoke out initially and it only got worse.

"When I was eight months pregnant, he hit my head so badly. He punched my head," Sharmin tearfully recalled.

A few months later, she says she went to hospital with a severe headache and was diagnosed with a brain haemorrhage. She lost her vision for months and to this day, she has balance issues and trouble reading.

"He was not giving my cards back, not giving my passports back. So I was totally abused physically, mentally, economically, verbally, in all aspects," said Sharmin.

"He could have killed me."

The pandemic's toll

According to the study, the reasons for not speaking out are often complex — particularly for immigrant women — including not understanding that what they're experiencing is actually gender-based violence or fear of losing their immigration status in Canada or even their children.

"Many women are financially dependent on their spouse," said Imam Uddin, founder and president of the organization.

"So if they complain, and something happens, they will be separated.  And they cannot afford living costs… so how can they survive?"

The group found the pandemic made things even more difficult for women because they were further cut off from the outside world.

"Newcomer immigrant women who are already isolated have language barriers," said Sohelia Khan Bonhi, a counsellor with the group. "And when the lockdown came … their situation really became worse."

The women surveyed said the abuse had a lasting impact — 84 per cent of them said they suffered a series of mental health issues afterward, including depression, insomnia or lack of appetite.

Other communities

The findings don't come as a surprise to Kripa Sekhar, executive director of the South Asian Women's Centre in Toronto. 

"COVID had a very adverse impact on women going through abuse, particularly in racialized communities where they have no family support," said Sekhar.

"They don't want to talk about it to friends and neighbours because they are so ashamed to even discuss it."

Sekhar said between April 2020 and February 2021, the centre received 2,700 calls. Of those, 350 were related to abuse. However she estimates only about a half dozen of them agreed to leave.

And even for those wanting to get out, it wasn't easy.

"There were very few places that were accepting referrals and shelters also had downsized," said Sekhar.

Sekhar said while her organization does see many Bangladeshi women, she believes the trends identified aren't limited to that  community.

"I think this study kind of reflects what other South Asian communities are going through as well."

'Shattered and invisible'

The research group makes a series of recommendations, including better education and more culturally and linguistically appropriate services for women in the community that are easy to access in one place. 

Rahman and Sharmin, who started experiencing their abuse prior to the pandemic, are still living with many of the physical and psychological impacts. 

"Everything will haunt me. And from a very outgoing person, I became completely shattered and invisible," said Rahman.

More than anything, they want survivors to know they're not alone and must speak up.

"Unless they share, they will never be able to overcome," said Rahman.