No nation for women

The rape and murder of Inisha BK in Surkhet earlier this month has become yet another case of the abuse and violence that women and girls continue to face — and pay for with their lives.

In Kalikot, police arrested a man in his 50s after he was found to have repeatedly sexually assaulted his 13-year-old relative. In Kathmandu's Maitighar, a seven-year-old has been demanding justice for her mother, who was raped and murdered in Khotang eight months ago.

These crimes have once again cast a harsh spotlight on how Nepal’s state apparatus has repeatedly failed victims and survivors of sexual violence. This has fostered a sense of impunity that encourages more abuse.

Four teenage boys, one of them reportedly in a romantic relationship with Inisha, have been arrested for her brutal assault and murder. In the days since, Nepalis across the country have come together, as they have before after the same sort of crimes, to demand justice and accountability not just for Inisha but for countless other women and girls who are made to suffer.

Nepal Police records show an average of 2,400 cases of rape over the last five fiscal years, with 2,253 complaints filed in the past year. There are as many as 7 rape cases registered every day, while more are never reported to the police. Yet, even as there are resounding calls for accountability now for Inisha, there is the sense that law enforcement and the judicial system is not to be trusted to ensure safety and justice for women.

The 2018 rape and murder of 18-year-old Nirmala Panta has not been solved due to police mishandling of the investigation. That crime is etched on the national psyche. Thousands of survivors of wartime rape during the insurgency remain unaddressed by the state. Law enforcement shows apathy and loathing towards trans people, particularly sex workers, when they try to register complaints of sexual harassment and assault. Police are routinely reluctant to record complaints of marital rape.

And even if cases of sexual violence are registered, the state allows perpetrators to get away with fumbled investigations, a lack of sufficient evidence or statutes of limitation.

Adult men get away with grooming and assaulting minor survivors because both parties ‘have consented’ to being in a relationship. Survivors and families are often made to sign a मिलापत्र by police so they do not have to investigate and prosecute.

After this month’s election, there is hope that a fresh new elected leadership will govern the country better than their predecessors. There are strong demands that the government hold the rapists of Inisha, Nirmala and many other women and girls accountable for their crimes.

Whenever yet another case of sexual assault makes it to national headlines, there is an outcry to punish the perpetrators when (and if) they are found, and only after they have committed the crime. But what of our own homes, communities, society and culture where patriarchy is entrenched, and misogyny rampant?

Following Inisha’s rape and murder, the usual questions were already there on the social media manosphere: why would she go into the forest with a boy? Why did she have a boyfriend at 16? Online, some began their think-pieces with ‘I don’t mean to blame the victim … but young girls must be careful who they give themselves to.’

Almost every woman will have experienced sexual harassment, misconduct or violence one way or another — in casual conversations at work, walking on the streets, on public transport, interacting with people they know, just going about their daily lives.

And the onus of sexual abuse and violence always lies on those who are subjected to it: on how they dress, how they behave, how they exist. Meanwhile, perpetrators are excused and protected by their celebrity status, their wealth, connection, age, by their families and communities.

Meanwhile, young boys and men across the globe are increasingly radicalised on the internet, driven to violent and sexist behaviour as they are algorithmically led to believe that feminism and the calls for equality tramples on their rights.

Misogyny permeates everyday interactions, every time we dismiss the aggression of young men as ‘boys being boys’, every time men are taught to associate romantic relationships with aggressively pursuant behaviour, every instance that dated and sexist wedding rituals are taken in jest, every time women are silenced into sweeping domestic violence, abuse, and sexual assault under the rug.

Nepal’s laws must ensure that perpetrators of sexual violence are granted no leniency, regardless of age, background, or circumstance. But it must also be made abundantly clear to young boys and men at home, schools, and in the community that bad behaviour, however small, has consequences.

Shristi Karki