Dowry deaths: A tragedy India still refuses to confront

Twisha Sharma’s tragic death has captured public attention and generated widespread media coverage. For decades, the abuse young women endure in their marital homes at the hands of their husbands and in-laws has remained stubbornly unchanged.

In 2000, I documented the stories of several women. Meena (name changed), a dedicated community worker, was gifted a plot of land by the State. Her husband demanded ownership. Months later, she was found hanging from a ceiling fan. Though her husband was the prime suspect, he was acquitted for lack of evidence, while Meena was posthumously labelled schizophrenic. 

Anandhi (name changed), a scientist, was burned to death within months of her marriage after being subjected to relentless dowry harassment and demands for career favours from her family.

Amrita (name changed), her parents’ only daughter, died after enduring horrific abuse, including starvation and cigarette burns.

In August 1999, Vimochana, an NGO, and the National Law School of India University organised the Truth Commission on Unnatural Deaths of Women in Marriage.

More than 70 cases were presented before a jury comprising former judges, lawyers, social activists, and representatives of the Law Commission. Families recounted chillingly similar stories of abuse by husbands and in-laws, followed by systemic attempts to disguise murders as suicides.

For three days, victims’ families from across Karnataka spoke of humiliation at the hands of the police and the courts. Families were left physically, financially, and emotionally devastated while the accused secured bail or walked free.

In case after case, the police had facilitated the criminals. Complaints were ignored or registered as suicides or unnatural deaths rather than murder. Their daughters had died under suspicious circumstances, but the system looked away.

Vimochana volunteers visited the burns ward at Victoria Hospital, examined records from the Central Crime Research Bureau, scrutinised police files and travelled across districts seeking families willing to speak about daughters who had suffered abuse and later ‘committed suicide’. They uncovered 5,560 cases, and to force public attention on the issue, they organised a hearing at Vidhana Soudha attended by legislators and senior police officers. The Truth Commission followed.

Nearly three decades later, little has changed. The suspicious deaths continue, as do the demands from marital homes.

Technology, social media, and contemporary lifestyles have, in some respects, complicated matters further. It must also be acknowledged that men and their families increasingly face the threat of false dowry allegations.

Nevertheless, women continue to face greater risks. Twisha’s case exposed the dark reality of entitlement and the destructive consequences of behaviour that disregards basic human dignity.

Raising daughters today presents new challenges. Education and empowerment have fostered greater autonomy, limiting parental intervention. This creates a painful dilemma when an abused daughter is undecided and chooses to give her marriage another chance.

The era of parents making unilateral decisions has passed, replaced by a fear of overstepping boundaries. The insatiable demand for dowry fuels a toxic environment of marital abuse. The culture of extravagant weddings, lavish gifts, and ostentatious displays of wealth must end.

As we equip girls to conquer the world and reach new heights, it is the system’s responsibility to guarantee their safety. Marital abuse is a universal issue prevalent even in highly developed nations; the critical factor is how effectively the legal and social systems address it. Some countries provide strong protection, remove women from danger, and help them rebuild lives of dignity and safety.

In India, a woman’s natal family is often left to fight for her safety and justice. Taking on deeply entrenched systems can feel like a battle lost before it has even begun.

(The writer is a senior journalist and researcher)

Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.