The year was around 2010 during a warm, peaceful mid-August. I was at my grandparents’ house in the countryside of Guyana with my brother. We were sitting in the living room patiently waiting for commercials to end while watching television with bad reception. Several generic commercials played, such as ones promoting vitamins, tourist attractions, and even American-based ones promoting a product. But one commercial was particularly striking to me. Unlike the previous ones that aired, there was nothing animated about it –– no flashy lettering, upbeat music, or grandiose editing. Instead, a slower R&B tune played over simple lighting and a plain background with a singular man standing over a chair. I was taken aback when the actor, who appeared to be Guyanese, began singing a song with the premise of advocating against men beating their wives and addressing violence against women. Being no older than 10 at the time, I was confused. Why would people need a commercial to tell them not to abuse their wives or other women? Unable to comprehend the reasoning behind this commercial, I shrugged it off as the program we were watching came back, not yet realizing that this would be the first of many instances that I would become acquainted with hearing about domestic abuse in Guyana.
A few years later, my parents came home, as they sometimes did, with Guyana newspapers that they picked up from a local Caribbean grocery store. Because direct news from there to New York was not easy to acquire at the time, I was excited that we had something physical that allowed us to be there temporarily through black ink on newsprint. As my eyes skimmed the front page, this excitement quickly faded. One of the top headlines read that a father had killed his young daughter who was around 8-9 years old, tried to bury her remains, and committed suicide. Month after month, I continued to notice more articles in these Guyana newspapers that mentioned similar tragedies. It slowly began to register to me that these were not just isolated incidents but ones that I would hear of frequently, only with different victims and different perpetrators. This would, unfortunately, continue to be true, as according to the Overseas Security Advisory Council for Guyana, “Most murders involve spousal domestic disputes (more often female victims) and substance abuse. ...Guyana has the fourth-highest murder rate in South America, behind only Colombia, Venezuela, and Brazil. Guyana’s murder rate is four times higher than that of the U.S.”i As years went by and I got older, many more excruciatingly painful cases of femicide and domestic violence against Guyanese women continued to be reported to a point where it eerily felt like second nature to look for. If I felt like checking the news that week, I already knew that I would be likely to come across at least one case or more. I could not help but foster feelings of resentment towards how the government was handling these issues.
Though there is legal legislation implemented to protect victims such as the Domestic Violence Act of 1996ii and the Sexual Offences Act of 2010iii, the Women’s health, and life experiences report published in 2019 by the United Nations, stated 55% of girls and women in Guyana have experienced at least one form of Intimate Partner Violence (IPV) in their lifetime.iv The statistic additionally does not account for those who are unable to report their cases of abuse. This percentage contrasts with the Center for Disease Control’s reported statistic that in the United States, 1 in 4 women have experienced intimate partner physical violence along with 1 in 3 women experiencing some form of sexual violence within their lifetimev. Regardless of the United States having a significantly larger population, the frequency at which this is happening in Guyana is occurring at an alarming rate. Despite the Domestic Violence Act being passed in 1996, (and it taking almost 20 years latervi from its conception to contain a regulated framework for victims to actually receive protection orders), the government does not contain the proper infrastructure within the interior of the country to uphold the act––areas where the most vulnerable of victims who rarely receive help are located. The support system for victims lacks funding for shelters and legal actions needed, as well as a lack of police stations in more interiorvii and rural areas where there is a higher inability to report abuse. With over half of the population of Guyanese women experiencing some form of domestic violence within their lives, it is imperative that this gender-based abuse against women is seen and dealt with as a national crisis that is much more institutionalized and complex, which written legislation alone would not fix. Likewise, according to Guyana’s Human Rights Report of 2019, under the section on child abuse: “There were frequent, widespread reports of physical and sexual abuse of children. As with cases of domestic abuse, NGOs alleged some police officers could be bribed to make cases of child abuse ‘go away.’”viii If abusers know they can easily get away with their actions, they will not stop, leaving victims even more vulnerable and unprotected. These instances of bribes accepted by police officers greatly halt the progress that needs to be made in not only prosecuting domestic abusers but also in preventing these occurrences.
The complexity of this crisis stems from women still being seen as secondary inferior citizens due to institutionalized patriarchal beliefs. While my personal understanding of what it means to be a woman in a patriarchal society increased as I tried to make sense of these violent offenses, I could not help but unintentionally develop feelings of emotional impassivity from reading tragedy after tragedy. These feelings were due to becoming more and more aware of how conservative patriarchal beliefs allow for the cycle of violence and discrimination towards women to continue as “[p]atriarchal beliefs of male, heterosexual dominance and the devaluation of girls and women lie at the root of gender-based violence. Patriarchy is a structural force that influences power relations, whether they are abusive or not.”ix Consequently, domestic abuse and femicide remain a systemically common issue that strongly correlates to how gender norms negatively affect women. A recent research study has also shown that gender-based violence, specifically perpetrated by men against young Guyanese women, is closely associated with how gender norms are lived out through social practices. The “results revealed that heteronormative, adversarial gender roles in Guyana are enacted in adolescent relationships in ways that contribute to violence. Two important factors emerged in relation to femininity: female respectability related to sexuality; and the relationship between clothing, sexuality, and social class.”x Notions of masculinity held by young men were based on assumptions of femininity, an example being if a young woman has had multiple partners she is, therefore, less respectable. Additionally, adolescent men who experienced some form of domestic violence at home are more likely to have strong attitudes toward accepting physical violence against women and girls.xi Not only does this conform to unequal gender-based power dynamics, but abuse against Guyanese women is learned behavior and normalized under gender roles.
Today the crisis of violence against women has become dramatically worse due to the COVID-19 pandemic, which resulted in global quarantine and the implementation of stay-at-home orders. It has been reported in more developed nations such as the United States that these safety measures have unfortunately led to what can be inferred as a higher frequency of cases of domestic abuse and violence. In a local law report from the NYPD, in the New York City area alone, there was a reported 54,842 total domestic violence offenders by precinct from January 2020 to December 2020.xii This statistic does not even account for the number of perpetrators that went unreported, including cases received by hospitals and clinics since patients with COVID were given top priority. These reports demonstrate one of the most common circumstances in domestic violence cases: victims left in solitary with their abusers, who are often family members, spouses, and significant others. “[T]here has been a significant increase – a doubling in some cases – in reports of domestic violence and murders of women and girls since stay-at-home orders were set up and survivors found themselves locked into the house with their abusers...In some countries, calls to helplines have increased five-fold.”xiii Other socioeconomic factors can further negatively impact women who are victims of violence. For example, a victim’s unemployment caused by the pandemic enables their reliance on their abusers. And with Guyana still favoring a more conservative ideology regarding the societal role of women, this reliance by female victims perpetuates. It is expected and culturally acceptable for the woman to take on more domestic roles like caregiving or house maintenance while the man is expected to be the breadwinner and primary financial provider, whether the woman is employed or not. This structure contributes to the cultural status quo of economic dependency as well as power dynamics that are established in cases of domestic violence, which makes it even more difficult for those who are in such situations to leave or receive help.
In addition to the role that negative social behaviors and unjust gender-based norms play in intimate partner violence, drug-related abuse—and more specifically alcoholism, which is prevalent in Guyana—is another significant factor in domestic abuse. From an early age, I observed how much prominence alcohol consumption has within Guyanese culture. At parties, weddings, family functions, birthday celebrations, or gatherings of any kind, it was a regular occurrence to witness large quantities of alcohol being shared, and the adults, in particular the men, drinking in their respective circles. The culture of alcoholism in Caribbean nations including Guyana can be linked back to colonialism, in which indentured servants and slaves used alcoholic substances to cope; Colonizers of the indentured servants and slaves “allowed” for the use such substances like alcohol and cannabis – both of which are considered depressants – as means of making them more compliant and further exploiting them. “A common form of escape from the drudgery and daily humiliations of life in the coolie lines was through addiction to rum and narcotics. Rum was a lucrative by-product of sugar estates, and its consumption was all too often facilitated by sugar planters looking to recoup wages paid through purchases made in the estate shop of alcohol.”xiv There is little to no research that has been done to discuss the influence of alcoholism within Guyanese society; however, in 2017, a study was conducted to investigate alcohol use among the youth population and its correlation to suicidal ideation. It was concluded that 46.5% of male participants ages fourteen to fifteen regularly consumed alcohol. Of those that did, 21% were more likely to have suicidal thoughts as opposed to those who did not drink.xv Although alcohol can be used as a recreational drug as a means to “have a good time,” like many other drugs, it is used as an escape or “remedy” for other underlying issues such as stress or depression and can therefore be consistently abused. Intoxication by alcohol inhibits the senses and often prompts aggressive behavior: “In Guyana, 40 per cent of women whose current or most recent partners drink alcohol more than once a week reported experiencing physical and/or sexual violence from that partner, compared with only 11 per cent whose partners did not drink.”xvi Being under the influence of drugs such as alcohol inhibits cognitive function and further increases the risk of violence from men who believe that abuse of women and children is appropriate. It can likewise worsen symptoms of depression that can result in suicidal thoughts, which can manifest into aggression.
As a first-generation child growing up in the United States, my parents made sure that my brother and I were tethered and exposed to our culture, and taught where our family and heritage came from at a young, impressionable age. As I got older, I partially felt a sense of shame about where I came from as I continuously read all of the horrible incidents that women and young girls would face by our own men. However, I have grown to realize that quietly feeling shame for where I come from adds to the problem because it encourages complacency. It upholds the notion that the domestic violence crisis in Guyana is being adequately taken care of or is not a crisis at all. Furthermore, Guyana is a beautiful and diverse country that has a rich display of customs, arts, and achievements. A majority of my lineage comes from indentured servants and slaves who were brought to Guyana on the basis of false promises or against their will. Therefore, to feel shame for where I come from is not only myself being complicit but also discrediting the women who came before me and the women who currently live there now, who are at the forefront of abuse and femicide.
When people ask me what my nationality is, I respond with the answer that I am Guyanese-American. I have grown to acknowledge that being both American and Guyanese are integral parts of my identity. While it is much easier to praise the good parts of living in the United States or the rich culture and history of Guyana, it is equally important to address and emphasize the flaws that exist within the community and the law so that my people can better themselves. By continuing to raise and highlight these issues, victims and survivors of domestic violence can have a voice through me. Although the Guyanese government has laws that are supposed to protect victims of IPV and domestic abuse, these laws are clearly insufficient. The majority of these laws were implemented to protect victims after an incident has occurred; however, it is more important to take measures in stopping the abuse before it can start. Last year, an emergency abuse hotline (914) was created for those facing domestic abuse in the midst of the pandemic.xvii Callers are able to connect to social workers for professional help. Moreover, the challenges that the pandemic has caused in regards to mental health, such as depression and suicide, which can in turn influence domestic violence, makes it even more crucial that we have greater dialogue surrounding these crises. As a result, more information will be shared and more resources can be allocated towards the prevention and treatment of mental health issues and abuse. It is vital that we create protective social environments and support programs that work towards domestic violence advocacy, teach safe and healthy ideologies within familial and romantic relationships, and provide aid to survivors.
The young women who live in Guyana and other Caribbean nations facing similar crises deserve to live in safety and not in fear. Victims of gender-based violence and those who have lost their lives from femicide are so much more than just a statistic––they are every one of us, especially all of us that have a voice to speak out and advocate for change in our communities. It is critical that we act and recognize that change happens from within—within our schools, within our government institutions, within our friend groups, and, most importantly, within our homes. The key to progress, and actual safety for women, is that instead of merely assigning blame, we are accountable, vigilant, and above all, supportive of women who are victims of intimate partner violence and domestic abuse, not just in cultures like mine, but everywhere.
i U.S. Department of State, Overseas Security Advisory Council Bureau of Diplomatic Security. “Working Together to Protect U.S. Organizations Overseas.” OSAC, 27 Mar. 2020, www.osac.gov/Country/Guyana/Content/Detail/Report/736ce36a-b933-4293-838a-184d53f8a6aa.
ii Global Database on Violence Against Women, UN Women. “Domestic Violence Act.” UN Women Global Database, evaw-global-database.unwomen.org/fr/countries/americas/guyana/1996/domestic-violence-act-1996.
iii Global Database on Violence Against Women, UN Women. “Sexual Offences Act.” UN Women Global Database, https://evaw-global-database.unwomen.org/fr/countries/americas/guyana/2010/sexual-offences-act-2010
iv Contreras-Urbina, Manuel. Bourassa, Angela. “Guyana Womens Health and Life Experiences Survey Report.” UN Women Caribbean, 2019, caribbean.unwomen.org/en/materials/publications/2019/11/guyana-womens-health-and-life-experiences-survey-report.
v Nation Center for Injury Prevention and Control, Division of Violence Prevention. “Preventing Intimate Partner Violence.” Center for Disease Control and Prevention, CDC. 09 Oct 2020, https://www.cdc.gov/violenceprevention/intimatepartnerviolence/fastfact.html
vi Benjamin-Samuels, Abike. “ Guyana’s Work on Ending Domestic Violence Against Women and Girls and the Indigenous Population.” Ministry of Social Protection, DPI Guyana.https://www.cepal.org/sites/default/files/presentations/updated_guyana_gender_based_violence.pdf
vii Henry, Daja E. “More than 50 Years since Independence, Colonial Violence Plagues Guyana and Its Diaspora.” Pulitzer Center, 20 Apr. 2020, pulitzercenter.org/stories/more-50-years-independence-colonial-violence-plagues-guyana-and-its-diaspora.
viii Bureau of Democracy, Human Rights, and Labor, “Guyana 2019 Human Rights Report.” 2019 Country Reports on Human Rights Practices, United States Department of State, 2019. https://www.state.gov/reports/2019-country-reports-on-human-rights-practices/guyana/
ix API GBV, “Patriarchy & Power.” Asian Pacific Institute on Gender Based Violence, www.api-gbv.org/about-gbv/our-analysis/patriarchy-power/.
x Rodney, Ruth, et al. “Sex as Boys’ Fame, But Girls’ Shame: Adversarial Adolescent Gender Roles and Gender-Based Violence in Guyana.” Journal of Interpersonal Violence, Sept. 2021, doi:https://doi.org/10.1177/08862605211043585.
xi Ibid 8.
xii New York City Police Department. “Domestic Violence Local Law 38 Report for 2020.” Reports - Domestic Violence - NYPD, City of Mew York, www1.nyc.gov/site/nypd/stats/reports-analysis/domestic-violence.page.
xiii Sayed, Tahseen, and Emily Bartels Bland. “Casting Light onto the Shadow Pandemic in the Caribbean: Violence against Women.” The World Bank , The World Bank Group , 25 Nov. 2020. blogs.worldbank.org/latinamerica/casting-light-shadow-pandemic-caribbean-violence-against-women.
xiv Carter, Marina. Torabully, Khal. “Surviving Indenture.” Coolitude: An Anthology of the Indian Labour Diaspora, 1st ed., Anthem Press, 2002, p. 101.
xv Siziya, Seter, BA(Ed),M.Sc, PhD., et al. "Suicidal Ideation in Guyana: Prevalence and its Associated Factors among Adolescents in a Global School Health-Based Survey." International Public Health Journal, vol. 9, no. 4, 2017, pp. 415-422. ProQuest, https://jerome.stjohns.edu/login?url=https://www.proquest.com/scholarly-journals/suicidal-ideation-guyana-prevalence-associated/docview/2136004603/se-2?accountid=14068.
xvi Ibid 4.
xvii Editor. “Call 914 to Report Domestic Abuse.” News Room Guyana, News Room, 10 Dec. 2020, newsroom.gy/2020/12/10/call-914-to-report-domestic-abuse/?fbclid=IwAR3JptTNJ5YdUtisg5QisYbysFMwlrbR-4cQiP7jS5bGSQNRBgHH3FndZc8.
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