Beyond The Veil

On child brides.

---

You are a 12 year old girl. Your eyes are closed but the sounds are so loud that you wish you could shut your ears and hide in the corner, but you can't. Oh no. It's your special day. You're scared, you're shaking but nobody notices. An aunt asks you to turn, you turn mechanically while you're draped in a heavy red and gold cloth. An older cousin sister combs out your hair, another drapes ornaments all over your face and body. Your mother sits in the corner, being comforted by your elder sister. You remember hiding behind your aunt and watching the same scene unfold just a year ago when she was married. She was 14 then. She was crying, sobbing, black tear tracks running down her face. You're not crying. You're confused. You don’t know.

---

One third of all the girls in the world are married before the age of 18. One in nine are married before the age of 15. India comes in at number 13 on a list of the countries most affected by child marriage, with 47% of its girls being married off before they're old enough to even fathom what being married entails.

Child marriage is banned in India, with the accused if convicted facing up to two years of imprisonment and a fine of Rs. 1,00,000. However in most of the communities where child marriage is the norm, the government and its laws are the enemy and are seen as attempts to inhibit 'the way things have always been.' In such communities, it's not easy to find someone who thinks differently or is willing to act to cause a change. And of course, this change needs to come from within.

Studies show that women who are married before they are 18 are twice more likely to experience domestic violence and sexual abuse than those married after 18. In a country where courts have ruled that marital rape is not 'really' rape, it's alarming and disheartening to know that in a lot of rural areas, there are parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles who set up their children to have to face violence and abuse against which they have no defences.

In many parts of India, female children are married at ages as young as 5 - sometimes to grooms who are a few years older, other times to grooms older by half a century or more. These children in some cases continue to live with their families until they hit puberty after which they're sent to their grooms. Although they live with their families until they are 12 or 14 have severe restrictions on their freedom, with most of them being denied education. Many child brides have stories of confusion, the transition from being a child a few months ago to having children now is not easy to adapt to. Some stories have brides so young they barely know how to take care of themselves when they're suddenly responsible for a family. Others recount being told to never deny their husband sex.

While most cases of child marriage are unreported, the few cases in which girls escape oppressive situations are given much deserved publicity. On examining the reasons behind the change in these cases, it is most often found to be education or employment. Cases where children start working to make themselves 'useful' to the family are heart breaking. In some cases, the presence of free secondary school education in the village provided an incentive to parents to permit their children to remain unmarried.

Modern day feminism focuses on the 'higher classes' of women. Women who have the opportunities to attain an education, women who have jobs. Somewhere out there, there's a terrified 10 year old who is raped on her wedding night. Thousands of voices echo to fight for the rights of women. No one hears the cries of this little girl. And no one will.

Not unless the self-proclaimed feminists of the world are willing to step out from behind their computer screens, take a break from ranting for a second to actually do something that could make a difference. NGOs operating in rural areas with high instances of child marriage have proven essential in convincing young girls to stand up to the community and demand education. It would take time for communities who've been living in figurative darkness for centuries to realize that a girl child is just as valuable as a boy, that women are capable of so much more than bearing children and rearing families. It's about time to fight for something far worse than the injustices we live through each day.

---

So who decides the freedom of the Indian woman? Her family and community who, in the 21st century, still find it acceptable to give up a 10 year old to marriage. Her husband, who is but a stranger until the wedding night to all Indian women who are married in the 'culturally acceptable manner'. And of course, that stranger or that neighbour we all have to impress by being 'normal.'

Of course it's not the woman herself. Preposterous. Who ever thought of such an abomination? The idea that a woman can be in control of her life, her body, her future - ridiculous. Welcome to reality, dear woman. You are but secondary.

Won't Close My Eyes

It's not something she remembers very well. It's not something she thinks about often. She just knows that it happened. She just knows that no matter what she becomes, this will always be a part of her.

You ask her something about her life, anything. Start with her name, her age, her family. As you get close to her, ask who her first crush was, who her first boyfriend was, how long did they last. Ask her when her first kiss was and she'll name a date and a place, she'll name a boy she used to love. You'll smile and maybe you'll say 'That's so cute!' and she'll smile and the conversation is done there. Maybe you'll talk for a while and maybe you'll meet her again someday, but that there, was the first lie she ever will tell you.

Her first kiss was not a boy she loved. It was a man who claimed to be her tutor. It's not something she dwells upon, but if she tries to focus, she remembers meeting her eyes in the mirror and stubbornly refusing to close them, because somewhere in that twelve year old girl's mind, she had this idea that you close your eyes when you kiss someone you love. She didn't love this man. She wouldn't close her eyes.

Ask her how long it went on, she wouldn't know. It's almost as though her mind has locked this part of her memory in a box and hidden it away in a dusty corner. Ask her when it started, she won't know. She can't remember. All she knows is that he used to ask her to study something he'd just explained, and she would, head bowed over her book, and she'd study while he groped her under the table. Then he'd ask her questions and she wouldn't know the answers and he'd shout. She never cried when he yelled, she stared obstinately back into his eyes.

He'd stop when he heard footsteps outside the door. He was a religious man, someone who taught the ways of God, her parents never had even the slightest doubt. When they'd come in to check on her, he'd be on his best behaviour and she'd say nothing.

She doesn't know why but the thought of telling her parents scared her. Once she was older, she read something on child abuse, it said that the victims feel fear and guilt. She thinks that maybe she was too young to comprehend it, what she felt back then was guilt. She doesn't quite remember those emotions, not vividly, not at all. As though it's too painful to remember. As though her mind is protecting her from herself.
She tried to protest in her way. She'd arrange the table and chairs in such a way that he couldn't reach her under the table. She'd wear two, maybe three pairs of trousers. She'd wear a pair of jeans with a belt. She had wanted to lock herself away, she was angry, but mostly she was scared.

She wonders what went through his mind. Did he ever feel fear? Of being caught, at the very least. She didn't expect him to fear the God he taught her about, he probably knew that all of what he taught was lies. She remembers him whispering that she should tell him if she was uncomfortable, and not her parents. She remained quiet. He kept insisting, he made her walk over to his chair and stand by him and told her again. She nods and he kisses her. She locks eyes with the girl in the mirror.

He had to leave to some place for some reason she doesn't remember anymore and she wished he'd never come back. She wished he'd just disappear from her life, it'd make everything a lot easier. But one day her mother tells her he's back and that he'd called and she'd be starting classes from the next week. And she breaks down and cries. The words coming out aren't coherent. She doesn't know how long she cried, or even how long it took for her to make sense. She doesn't know anymore. But she knows it ended then.

She's not sure how it has affected her. Sure, she's a little uncomfortable with physical contact, but that's probably just personal space issues, she thinks. She doesn't break down into tears when she thinks about it, she doesn't think it haunts her. She just knows that it is a part of her. She was lucky that it stopped with just that. She thinks of all these children, boys and girls alike, who go through this and so much worse and she can feel their pain. All their innocence, all of their carefree childhood, taken away with just one act.

She wishes she could go back in time, and pull that man off her younger self, slap him across his face and rip those hands off his wrists. She wants to hold that twelve year old girl close and tell her that she did no wrong, that she will grow up to be stronger than she ever expected to be.

She wipes the tears off her face and puts her memories back in their box, and puts the box back in its dusty corner. It doesn't do anyone good to dwell upon the past, she thinks as she holds her own little girl close. Her baby brother sleeps in a cot nearby and she thinks she wants to protect them from the world. Put them away in little boxes and shield them from all the negativity until they are old enough to face it. She knows she wouldn't ever deem them old enough, she knows she wouldn't be able to.

She stands up and walks across the soft carpet. She turns around and takes one last look before she shuts the door and walks over to her own room. She climbs into her bed and pulls the covers over her head. As though she's hiding from herself. She doesn't want to be seen crying, not even by herself. She's stronger than that.

---

Dial CHILDLINE: 1098 from any phone service in India  to report a child in distress. The CHILDLINE service is a free 24x7 tele-outreach helpline service for children in need of care and protection. For more information, visit www.childlineindia.org.in