Every year, the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women arrives and with it comes a familiar discomfort that societies often try to avoid. We speak of equality in loud voices but whisper about violence in hushed tones. We celebrate women’s achievements in public, yet ignore their suffering in private spaces. The contradiction is not only troubling—it is shameful. Violence against women is not an isolated crime committed by a few; it reflects collective failure, where cultural norms, family pressures and societal silence all work together to hide injustice.

The harsh reality is that the majority of violence faced by women comes from within homes, workplaces and communities—places that should have protected them. Behind closed doors, countless women continue to endure physical harm, emotional manipulation, intimidation and control. Many do not speak, not because they lack strength but because society conditions them to believe that silence preserves honor. In truth, silence protects only the perpetrators. For generations, phrases like “adjust,” “compromise” and “log kya kahenge” have acted as invisible chains, trapping women in cycles of fear and helplessness.

South Asian societies, including Kashmir, must confront an uncomfortable truth: culture cannot be an excuse for cruelty. Traditions lose their value the moment they demand women to suffer in silence. Respect cannot be selective. Dignity cannot depend on obedience. And yet, too often, it does. Women are expected to carry the entire weight of familial reputation on their shoulders, even as they struggle with trauma. A woman who speaks out is questioned, doubted and judged before she is ever supported and that remains one of the greatest barriers to justice.

But change begins with the refusal to look away. When a woman finally gathers the courage to break her silence, society must be ready to break its indifference. Justice systems must respond with sensitivity and urgency. Families must stand beside the survivor, not against her. Communities must stop measuring a woman’s worth by her silence. And men must acknowledge that their role is not passive; silence from them is not neutrality—it is complicity. Eliminating violence requires participation from everyone, not sympathy alone.

Education remains the foundation of long-term change. It is not enough to teach girls confidence; boys must be taught respect, empathy and responsibility. A society that tells its daughters to be careful but does not teach its sons to behave will never be safe for women. The cycle will continue unless the narrative is rewritten at home, in schools and in everyday conversation.

In regions like Kashmir, the conversation becomes even more layered. Women here navigate not just domestic pressures but also the mental and social toll of living in a place defined by decades of instability. Their struggles are often invisible, overshadowed by larger political narratives. Yet violence within homes and communities cannot be dismissed as secondary. Peace outside means little if women remain unsafe inside their own households. The progress of any region depends not on slogans but on how securely women live within it.

The significance of this international day lies not in marking a date on the calendar but in reminding us of a responsibility we have failed to fulfill. Eliminating violence against women is not an act of charity; it is an overdue correction of a long-standing injustice. It requires empathy over judgement, action over excuses and courage over silence. No society can call itself modern or humane while half its population lives with fear hidden behind forced smiles.

The promise we must make is simple: to believe women when they speak, to support them when they fall, to defend them when they are wronged and to raise a generation where respect is natural, not taught. Violence against women is preventable and ending it is a collective duty. A nation’s progress cannot be measured by its economic growth alone, but by how safe its women truly are. And until every woman walks without fear, our work remains unfinished.