December 20, 2024
KATHMANDU – Samara endured six months of harassment from a relative of her late husband before a court interim order demanded her harasser leave her alone. In this period of inaction from the court, Samara (who the Post is identifying with a pseudonym for privacy) fell into depression and attempted suicide, feeling trapped and hopeless.
“There is late justice, and these victims are still being victimised,” Samara’s legal counsel told the Post. “Justice delayed is justice denied.”
Women in Nepal seeking justice for domestic violence or property partition wait years—often more than five and sometimes upwards of ten years—for the court to resolve their cases and fully implement the decision. The delays in case processing come at a cost to the women, who endure more harassment, financial strain, and loss of contact with their children as they wait for the justice system to take action.
In the past year, the court has established a family bench in six of the 77 district courts in Nepal to hear women’s cases more quickly. The bench aims to give female plaintiffs faster decisions in cases related to family relations, alimony, domestic violence, and property division.
The family bench, however, does not see a woman’s case when it also includes a legal matter outside of the purview of the bench, nor does the court see divorce cases as Nepali law mandates a one-year waiting period for divorce cases when one of the parties does not agree to the divorce.
Since its filing, the main trial court has heard Samara’s case as it is tied to a property division case in which her late husband’s relative is the plaintiff.
Samara’s interim order from the court has brought her some peace. Since the order two years ago, her harasser has stopped coming to her workplace demanding the property holdings of her late husband.
“After she got the interim order, she believed in herself more,” Samara’s legal counsel said. “Before, she didn’t believe in court, she thought she would not get justice.”
Samara’s legal counsel anticipates that the case will take at least another two and a half years at the district court, and may continue longer at the Supreme Court level if one of the parties chooses to appeal the decision.
“She doesn’t feel protected,” the legal counsel said.
Even when a woman’s case goes to the family bench, procedural hurdles can still delay the verdict, particularly when the case involves property division.
Edha’s (who the Post is also identifying with a pseudonym for privacy) domestic violence and property division case is in its fourth year at the Kathmandu District Court. One of her hearings was with one of the three judges appointed to preside over the family bench.
She had an arranged marriage more than 20 years ago, and soon after she gave birth to her first child.
“After I got married, the abuse was non-stop,” she said. “It was quite brutal.”
During her marriage, her husband, who continuously had relationships with other women, left her with serious injuries in bouts of violence, and pressured her to abort multiple pregnancies, though she did later have a second child as the pregnancy was too advanced to abort.
Edha didn’t tell anyone about the abuse for most of her marriage. “If you’re going through something bad, if nobody comes to know, then it’s okay,” she said. “My fear was, if people find out, what will they think?”
This fear of judgment stopped Edha from taking legal action for years.
“In Nepal, if your husband hits you, that means it’s your fault,” she said. “With that kind of stigma, at times, I would just blame myself.”
During the pandemic, Edha’s husband told her he wanted a divorce, and became more physically abusive. She decided to leave the house and move to a different home, though she felt hesitant about having to leave her children.
“When he told me to get out of the house, and when he started hitting me, I thought I cannot survive in the house,” she said. “It was really difficult for me to leave. I feared I wouldn’t be able to take care of my children.”
Edha hopes she will soon have her final hearing, which has been delayed because the court required further documentation. Edha fears seeing her abuser again at the hearing.
“That fear is still within me,” she said. “I don’t want to look at that man.”
After years of living alone, Edha feels most devastated by the loss of time with her children. She hopes her case will result in her being able to stay where she currently lives and have parental visitation rights.
“They told me, within three months, this will be over,” she said between tears. “But it’s the fourth year running, and my kids are far away. I have missed the moments with them.”
Edha feels stuck, with no other option than waiting for justice.
“I don’t have any faith in the justice system of Nepal—no faith at all,” she said.
According to domestic violence victims and their lawyers, when a male defendant has connections to judges or enough money to offer bribes, getting justice can be near impossible.
Manika Khadka is a criminal lawyer working with the Women’s Foundation Nepal, and has seen dozens of women’s cases. “In some cases, he [the defendant] is so powerful and they use unnecessary power—that’s why we cannot get justice.”
Neesa (also a pseudonym) filed a property division case against her husband nearly a decade ago and shortly after a domestic violence case. Male members of her family had for years violently abused her. Her cases have faced continuous delays, she claims, because of her husband’s bribes and connections to court officials.
“You can go and register your case in the court, but then if corruption is involved… court procedures can be manipulated to cause delays,” she said.
The Supreme Court has already issued a verdict in Neesa’s favor on the domestic violence case, ordering the defendant to pay both interim relief and a fine. The court, however, has failed to implement the decision.
According to Neesa, because of bribes from her husband, officials in the implementation division of the district court have intentionally not enforced the Supreme Court’s verdict to make the defendant pay interim relief to the victim. Instead, the implementation division gave an order that would allow the defendant to avoid payment—a direct violation of the Supreme Court’s ruling.
Neesa has no choice but to go back through the court system again, asking for the Supreme Court’s decision to be enforced.
Her property case is still ongoing, and each step of the process takes months, she said.
“There is a delay at every step of the process,” Neesa said. “The court officials don’t do their jobs efficiently.”
Neesa feels frustrated with how long her cases have taken, and the amount of time, money and energy they have required from her.
“It is a nightmare,” she said. “These delays and obstacles are attempts to make the plaintiff give up—women rarely have the resources to fight these cases for years and years.”
“I can’t plan my life, I’m stuck,” she said. “It’s years of my life I won’t get back.”
Samara, Edha, and Neesa each are equipped with legal counsel and have current cases pending, but, as Neesa reflected, innumerable women endure abuse in silence, particularly after they see other women endure long delays in the court cases.
“I am educated and can stand up for myself and this is how I am treated, imagine the women who are uneducated,” Neesa said. “If [the court procedure] was simple and it was fair a lot more women would go through it and get justice,” she said.