When Family Betrays: Homa’s Struggle to Heal from a Childhood Torn by Patriarchy

Whenever news of women being killed by men close to them is published, it triggers a surge of outrage. These stories ignite widespread condemnation of gender-based violence, highlight the inadequacies of laws meant to protect women’s rights, and underscore the shortcomings of civil rights education.

This type of news profoundly affects one group more than others: survivors of gender-based violence. These women, who narrowly escaped becoming just another number in the grim tally of honor killings, carry the scars of their trauma long after the headlines have faded.

This report tells the story of Homa, a 36-year-old woman from a small town in Kerman province, who survived such an ordeal. At just 15 years old, Homa came face-to-face with the sharp blade of patriarchy - an experience that left a wound on her soul, one that remains painfully fresh to this day.

"I was only fifteen," Homa recalls. "I went to school and lived with my parents and four siblings in a busy household. I was the youngest." Homa pauses, taking a deep breath, clearly struggling to revisit the past. "At a wedding, a young man noticed me and expressed his interest. In our small town, everyone knows each other or is related somehow. His sister was my schoolmate. He and his family visited our home several times to propose, but my parents refused. Rumors about his drinking were one reason for their opposition, and my father believed I was still too young."

In many small towns, girls as young as 13 are often groomed for marriage, not realizing that it signifies not a step toward freedom but the abrupt end of their childhood and a harsh entry into adulthood.

For Homa, marriage was seen as a pivotal moment in a woman’s life. "I was just a child," she says. "I didn't understand what marriage meant or the responsibilities that came with it. I was only happy that someone liked me, but I always said I would only agree if my family did. That never happened."

One autumn day, while walking home from school, Homa encountered the boy on the street. "The town was small, and we couldn't talk openly in public. He approached me quietly and asked me to come to his house to talk, saying his sister - my schoolmate - was home. I didn’t think he had any other intentions beyond talking, so I agreed."

When Homa arrived at the young man's house, he insisted that she come inside. "He said, 'Come in,' and started walking ahead of me, calling out to his sister," she recalls. "I thought, 'Well, if his family is here, let's see what happens.' But as soon as I stepped inside, he turned, locked the door, covered my mouth, and forced me into a room."

Homa explains that the young man, frustrated by her family's disapproval and unable to secure his mother's consent, decided to kidnap her to pressure both families into agreeing to their marriage. "I realized he was drunk," she says. "He started drinking in front of me. While he didn’t rape me, he assaulted me. I kept begging him to let me go. He forced me to take a pill. I was just a child, too weak to resist. The last thing I remember him saying was, 'I won’t give you to your father back unless he lets us get married.'"

The pill quickly took effect, and Homa drifted into a deep sleep. "I have hazy memories from those hours. At one point, I was in a car, at another, I was on a bus, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open. The next morning, I woke up in a house that I later learned belonged to one of his relatives, located outside the province. I overheard him talking to my father on the phone. I begged him to let me speak. When he handed me the phone, I told my father, 'Dad, I didn’t know. I’ll be back.' He reassured me, 'Don’t worry, my dear, nothing happened, it’s not your fault.'"

After the phone conversation, Homa felt a slight sense of relief. Her father assured her that he, along with her brother and uncle, was on his way. "My family went to the police on the first day I was missing. They reported a missing person and filed a complaint against this family. But when he called and explained why he did this, they didn't follow up on the complaint. When my father arrived, he hugged and kissed me. My brother got into a fight with the boy, and finally, with our mediation, we went back to our city. But my misery was just beginning."

Upon entering the house, Homa’s mother, brothers, and sisters began beating her frail fifteen-year-old body in the hallway. "Do you remember how they used to make tunnels for Iraqi prisoners? That's how they started to spit, curse, and beat me. They hit wherever they could. My father also hit my head hard from behind. It was only then that I realized that what I thought was a kidnapping done by force was, in the eyes of my whole family, the city, and relatives, me escaping with the boy."

The night passes, no matter how difficult. The next morning, the family holds a meeting in the house's hall. "They were sitting in a circle. After all these years, I still remember it moment by moment. My father came forward, and I sat in the middle. He placed a Quran between us. He said, 'I will ask you a question. Put your hand on the Quran and tell the truth.' I put my hand on it. 'Did he do something to you? Touch you?' I swore that he didn't do anything. I knew he meant rape. He said, 'Yes, I'm relieved. Now, no matter what I do, don't say anything.'"

Homa's voice echoes through the phone, telling IranWire: "Why doesn't this pain get old? Is it possible for an experience or an event to be so fresh after so much time? Why doesn't the pain lessen?"

Then she continues explaining: "My brothers and sisters tied my hands and feet. They laid me on my stomach. My father brought a knife. He wrapped my hair around his hand and raised my head to put the knife to my throat. I was struggling and crying, saying I had done nothing. As a result of the struggle, the knife cut my skin, and it became bloody. My mother, who suffers from epilepsy, had a seizure and fell to the ground when she saw the blood. She must have been under a lot of pressure. When my mother fell, my father, brother, and sisters left me in the same situation and went to tend to my mother..."

Homa is a survivor, someone who, as she puts it, "They didn’t kill my body, but they killed my soul." She finds the most painful aspect of her tragedy to be his family’s reaction during and after the incident: "My sisters and brother told my father to kill me, to take my head and buy the family's reputation. Later, when my mother passed out and my father got up from my waist, it was as if he never dared to repeat it again. 

"But for many years after, I was an invisible being - a disgrace who didn’t go anywhere with the family and was excluded from their decisions. Time passed, and I became independent. I worked hard, and from the day I got married, I became the good daughter of the family, the desired daughter. Yet no one seems to remember how they tortured me when I was fifteen. The torture that my parents now dismiss as a joke."

Trauma rips away a person’s sense of security, plunging them into a relentless state of fear and helplessness. The scars run deep, no matter how hard the individual fights to heal. They’re left numb, disconnected, and unable to trust, haunted by the shadows of past horrors that refuse to fade.

Despite a good marriage and mended family ties, Homa’s wounds remain raw. Years of therapy, counseling, and psychological support have done little to dull the pain. The trauma of those two days continues to torment her, leaving her distressed and confused whenever the memories resurface.

Psychotherapist Shahrzad Pourabdullah defines trauma as "any incident, situation, or event that causes stress or injury to a person’s body or soul." About Hsma’s experience, Pourabdullah notes the impact of trauma on children: "Trauma affects and disrupts a child’s emotional development. Consequently, a person who has experienced childhood trauma may mature in age but remain emotionally stunted at the age of the trauma."

According to Pourabdullah, behavioral symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder include "emotional arousal, inability to control emotions, anger management issues, eating disorders, insomnia, depression, addiction, and suicide attempts."