"My silence didn't protect her privacy, it only isolated her"

Trigger Warning: The following narrative contains content related to experiences of Gender-Based Violence (GBV).

Imaara stands as a beacon of resilience, founded by survivors of Gender-Based Violence (GBV) for survivors. Every aspect of our NGO is crafted with the deep understanding that only those who have endured the harrowing journey of survival truly comprehend its nuances. From our programs to our support networks, we are driven by the unwavering commitment to empower fellow survivors. Each story shared within our community is a testament to the strength and courage that resides within every survivor. Together, we create a safe space where voices silenced by fear and shame are given power. Our mission is not merely to offer aid but to ignite a spark of hope in the hearts of those who have felt the darkest depths of despair. In this sanctuary of understanding and solidarity, survivors find solace, healing, and the unwavering belief that they are not defined by their past traumas, but by the strength it took to survive them.

The Words of an Anonymous Bystander

Bystander:

I always thought abuse was loud. I thought it meant shouting matches and broken plates. With my college friend Mythili (name changed), it was completely silent. In our first semester, she was the loudest, happiest person in the lecture hall. Then she started dating a guy from the senior batch. Slowly, the emotional abuse started. He began controlling who she talked to, forcing her to block her male classmates on Instagram, and demanding her location screenshots during college hours. If she missed his call between classes, he would spam her with abusive texts, calling her characterless.

Then it became physical. She started skipping morning labs, and when she did show up, she sat at the back to hide the bruises on her arms.  I asked but she quickly laughed it off saying she slept wrong.

One evening, we were at the college canteen, and her phone rang. I saw the look of sheer terror in her eyes before she ran outside to answer it. When she came back, her hands were shaking, and she was crying silently while packing her bag. I knew something was deeply wrong, but I stayed silent because I didn't want to interfere in their personal relationship. That is my biggest regret. My silence didn't protect her privacy, it only isolated her further. Being a bystander taught me that checking in on a friend doesn't violate their privacy; it can save their life."

Q: Were there any red flags or early warning signs that you now recognize in hindsight?

Bystander: Yes. The biggest sign was how she completely isolated herself from our college group. She stopped coming to culturals, skipped project meetings, and always rushed out the moment the final bell rang. She went from being an independent college girl to constantly seeking his permission just to sit with us during lunch. I thought it was just 'honeymoon phase' drama, but it was pure control.

Q2: In your experience, how did GBV impact you, not just physically, but also emotionally and mentally?

Bystander: It leaves you with massive guilt and second-guesses. Emotionally, you feel completely helpless watching your bright, ambitious classmate slowly lose her spark and academic focus. Mentally, it drains you because you are constantly overthinking every interaction in class, wondering if you should report it to a professor or if stepping in will make him hurt her more outside the campus.

Q3: What advice would you give to someone who suspects a loved one is experiencing GBV but doesn’t know how to help?

Bystander: Don't wait for them to come to you with a black eye. Speak to them privately in a safe spot on campus. Don't judge or ask accusatory questions like "Why are you still with him?" Just say, "I've noticed you've been stressed and skipping classes lately. I am here for you, and if you ever need a safe place or help talking to the college counselor, I've got your back."