A shameful silence on domestic abuse

It’s a heartbreaking story, like something from a soap opera: A woman masterminds the murder of her violent son-in-law to get him out of her daughter’s life. The headline-churning murder of Jakkirt “X” Panichpatikum has peaked in dramatic fashion with the admission by Surang Duangchinda, 72, that she hired a gunman to kill her son-in-law because he repeatedly abused her daughter. But behind the headlines, it’s the “sub-plot” that deserves more attention – violence breeding violence.

Jakkirt’s widow, Dr Nitiwadee Pucharoenyos, appeared before the media with a tearful plea for society to learn from the case. “My family has fallen apart, and I want to ask all strong men out there to help stop violence against women,” she said. Soon after, her mother turned herself in.

Surang said her only motivation for the murder was her inability to endure Jakkirt’s repeated assaults on her daughter. Nitiwadee might have lost the couple’s expected third child after one such beating. 

But, however bad the violence, Surang had no right to pronounce a death penalty of her own on Jakkirt.

If this sad case can contribute anything to society, it is to bring the issue of domestic violence out into the public domain. Keeping it hidden causes suffering to women in all walks of life. 

The alarming fact is that an instance of domestic violence is reported every 20 seconds in Thailand on average. The UN reported in 2005 that 44 per cent of women in Thailand had experienced physical or sexual violence by a partner. Meanwhile 23,000 children and women victims of domestic abuse have been admitted to medical facilities annually since 2007, again on average. These figures are undoubtedly the “tip of the iceberg”, failing to reflect the punishment inflicted on a “silent majority” of women who choose not to report such incidents.

Despite legislation – the Protection of Victims of Domestic Violence Act of 2007 – we still have a mountain to climb when it comes to eradicating the abuse of women. The legal framework is not a quick fix, while the hazy definition of “domestic violence” presents another obstacle. Some victims duly show police their marks of physical abuse, but others have only mental scars, making it difficult for them to gain legal assistance.

And then there is the matter of stigma. It blackens the victims of domestic abuse more than any other violent crime, and thus demands greater courage to call in the police. Being a beaten wife or girlfriend is still too often considered shameful. So some victims are too ashamed to seek help and must then live in a “prison” of brutality at home.

Meanwhile the police sometimes dismiss such cases as private matters. Those brave enough to step forward see no further action taken. 

All of this explains why violence against women so often is a silent evil. The public only hears about it when celebrities are involved. 

Women’s-rights activists and the pertinent government agencies are well aware of the problems and realise the answer lies in more cooperation with the police, lawyers, doctors, psychologists and, most importantly, the offenders themselves.

Before this can happen, women must be willing to stand up and condemn the violence. Their fight can be exhausting, but the victims must speak out to prevent it from continuing and escalating. Nitiwadee set an example as a victim who had exhausted all legal means and opted to speak out. 

In a desperate situation, her mother made a different choice, but attempting to end violence with yet more violence is not the solution to the evil of domestic abuse.