Shared grief over gender-based crime

The recent tragic and gruesome incident of the rape and murder of a young 31-year-old medical student on August 9 in one of the largest government hospitals and medical colleges, RG Kar Medical College in Kolkata, India, has shocked the entire nation. Such cases of gender-based violence are by no means unique to India.

Across the border, in Pakistan, the reality is the same. In May 2022, a female doctor was attacked by a patient attendant at Abbasi Shaheed Hospital, one of the government hospitals in Karachi. A month ago, a medical student at Avicenna Medical College was found dead under mysterious circumstances. The medical college administration said it was a case of suicide. However, protesters at the college claimed that a professor named Masood Nizam Tabassum had harassed the girl in the weeks before her death and that she was under extreme psychological pressure. They also accused the college's chairman, retired army officer Abdul Waheed Sheikh, of abusive tactics, including making female medical students sit on the floor “in a very strange manner.”

Despite the protests, nothing has been done to investigate the deaths or bring the perpetrators to justice. Patients as young as five years old are not safe in hospitals. This was underlined by a case that occurred some time ago at Ganga Ram Hospital in Lahore, where a young five-year-old girl was raped by a hospital cleaner. The doctors at the hospital protested all along about the lack of security in the hospital, but to no avail. Remember how we treated Mukhtara Mai, Dr. Shazia and countless other women who spoke out against the gruesome crimes committed against them? A Pakistani police chief faced growing criticism a few years ago after he appeared to blame the victim in a gang rape case for driving at night without a male companion.

This brutal rape and murder of a doctor in Kolkata, whose sole mission was to heal and protect others, has sparked a storm of indignation and nationwide outrage. It was not a deserted street or a lonely bus. She was not at a party or spending a long night with friends. She was not wearing what society calls “provocative clothing” nor was she sending out any so-called signals. She was a doctor, doing her duty in a place that was considered safe until August 9.

She wore a white gown, a symbol of healing, a sign of a deity on earth. And yet, despite all of this, she was brutally raped and suffocated. Even today, some people wonder why she went into the seminar hall and why she was not more careful. The state's chief minister, Mamta Banerjee, herself a woman, seems to be looking for reasons to blame her instead of confronting the true horror of what was done to the victim.

This rape and murder of a junior doctor in her own hospital has also once again exposed uncomfortable truths about a country that aspires to be a global leader, which is not to say that Pakistan is any better in this regard. Across the subcontinent, terrified women are demanding justice against rape and implementation of security measures, pleading for their basic right to safety. Although millions of Indian and Pakistani women have entered the urban workforce over the past decade, securing their financial independence and contributing to their country's rapid growth, they often still have to bear the burden of their own security themselves.

Such incidents highlight the prevailing apathy, mismanagement and lack of accountability. The authorities' apparent inclination to protect perpetrators rather than victims is a grave miscarriage of justice. Such incidents should be seen as a wake-up call for governments to make the safety of women of all castes and religions a top priority. Pakistani women, who have experienced similar conditions and are equally fed up with official and institutional apathy towards women's safety, are standing together with Indian women, taking to the streets, staging sit-ins and creating social media content to raise awareness of the dangerous conditions women, doctors and others face in their workplaces.

Both countries have long-standing customs that oppress women and, in many cases, confine them to the home, making their safety in public spaces a secondary concern. The fact that men everywhere commit sexual assault is no excuse for the broader misogynistic mindset that fuels such crimes. All cultures and societies can create a world where men and women are equally safe. But this can only happen if there is an open and public debate about why men in India and Pakistan view women – especially those who work in public spaces – as targets who intimidate and exploit women. Using public transport can be dangerous for women, especially at night, and sexual harassment is common on the streets and in offices. Mothers tell their daughters to be vigilant. Brothers and husbands drop their sisters and wives off at work.

Long-standing customs that oppress women and confine them to the home have pushed their safety in public spaces into the background.

The inhuman atrocities against women in this region continue. There is no change. No lessons are being learnt, no lessons are being taught and no fear is being spread in our societies to prevent harassment, sexual harassment and sexual crimes. We live in a society that teaches women to be careful not to be raped instead of sensitising men not to perceive rape as something powerful and masculine. Rape is the only crime where the victim generally becomes the accused. I will never understand why being raped is more shameful than being a rapist.

Rape victims have to wait up to 15 years for justice, while the perpetrator has no fear of the lash because even if convicted, he only gets ten years in prison. The road to justice is painful, heartbreaking and dangerously slow. No wonder it is said that justice delayed is justice denied. We women cry tears of blood and despair as we wait to be safe and protected.

Today, the widespread objectification of women, exacerbated by exposure to degrading content and pornography, contributes to the increasing violence against them. It is the little things we overlook that ultimately lead to these horrific incidents. Women are not products; they are individuals with feelings and emotions that are often ignored by society. How long will we continue to tell girls to take care of themselves instead of raising our voices against the men who make them feel unsafe? We cannot just say “pray for X” and expect anything to change. Both nations have prayed for their respective rape victims, but nothing has changed. It is time to stop looking at prayers as a solution. Building safer societies requires comprehensive measures, including victim support services, legal aid, psychological counseling and community awareness campaigns. It is imperative to review and strengthen existing policies to protect women to ensure their effectiveness.

Women must be free from fear and violence. We remember, mourn and weep for all victims of brutal rape. But who will it be tomorrow? A victim is not just a name; it is a living, breathing woman, a soul full of dreams and fears, a human being of flesh and blood. What is destroyed in these heinous acts is not just their bodies, but the essence of hope and humanity. In this latest tragedy, it was not just their bones that were shattered, nor was it just their flesh that was injured; it was the trust in the protection of men, the faith in justice, the very foundation of our common humanity.

We fight today not only for Moumitha's body, but for the hope that was shattered, the fear that was unleashed, and the shattered faith that women are safe. We women fight to restore justice, to repair what is broken, and to heal the wounds left by our collective conscience. Our mothers, our sisters, and our daughters should be able to live in a society not marked by monsters.

The author is a former banker and freelance columnist. You can reach her at tbjs.cancer.1954gmail.com.