A chilling pattern emerges from the stories of women lost to domestic violence – a systemic failure to protect those most vulnerable. Families are speaking out, their voices raw with grief and frustration, detailing how repeated pleas for help were ignored, dismissed, or simply inadequately addressed, ultimately culminating in tragedy.
The newly released report, “Invisible Women Made Visible,” lays bare a stark reality: Black, Minority and Migrant (BMM) women are disproportionately impacted by intimate partner homicides, yet face the most significant obstacles in accessing justice and safety. It’s a heartbreaking paradox – increased risk coupled with diminished support.
Too often, abuse is not taken seriously enough. Investigations following fatal incidents are frequently described as slow, incomplete, and lacking the urgency the situation demanded. The police, families say, are the agency most often failing to provide the protection needed.
In devastating cases, officers possessed prior knowledge of a perpetrator’s abusive behavior, yet failed to utilize this crucial information when assessing the risk to the victim. A missed opportunity, a disregarded warning, a life potentially saved – lost because of systemic shortcomings.
One family recounted the agonizing experience of their loved one making desperate, repeated calls for protection, calls that were never properly logged, connected, or flagged as a critical safeguarding concern. The system, designed to protect, simply didn’t see her.
Others shared concerns that their relatives were treated differently, subjected to bias based on their race, age, gender, and socioeconomic status. A disturbing suggestion that societal prejudices seeped into the very institutions meant to serve and protect.
The story of Fawziyah Javed, a 31-year-old pregnant woman tragically pushed to her death from Arthur’s Seat in Edinburgh by her husband in 2021, is a harrowing example. Her mother, Yasmin Javed, remembers the frustration of a risk assessment that was completed but never communicated to her daughter.
“They reassessed Fawziyah and regraded her to high risk, and that was never communicated to Fawziyah,” Yasmin recalls, her voice filled with pain. “I called the police again to report further abuse, and this time Fawziyah told the police officer, ‘look, I’m pregnant, I’m going to leave’. Why didn’t they go and arrest him? They couldn’t even get the basics right.”
Banaz Mahmod’s case is equally chilling. In the 14 weeks before her murder, she bravely went to the police five times, even providing a list of the men who would ultimately take her life. Yet, her warnings were not heeded.
Her sister, Bekhal Mahmod, powerfully states, “Police knew the situation because I asked them for help. It’s OK to not know other people’s culture, but you need to admit what you’ve done wrong and learn from it.” She now tirelessly campaigns for “Banaz’s Law,” seeking recognition of “honour”-based abuse as an aggravating factor in sentencing.
“How many women are going to have to lose their lives for government to listen and make a change?” Bekhal asks, her voice echoing the desperation of countless families. “We have shed years of tears… What more do we have to do for someone in government to actually turn around and say, ‘we value your expertise by lived experience’?”
The call for change is clear: independent oversight of investigations involving BMM women, clear standards for police response, mandatory cultural competence training across the justice system, and an end to policies that leave vulnerable women with no recourse to support. Access to specialist, culturally appropriate services is also paramount.
Dr. Hannana Siddiqui, of Southall Black Sisters, emphasizes the devastating intersection of racism, misogyny, and systemic failures. “Racism, misogyny, and community and state failures cost lives,” she states. “Migrant women must have both status and support to escape abuse.”
Jhiselle Feanny, of Killed Women, powerfully declares, “The bereaved families’ loved ones featured in this campaign should never have been invisible.” Seven families are now united, demanding accountability and action, insisting that their loved ones were not simply statistics, but individuals whose lives mattered.
They are asking the public and institutions to stand with them, to acknowledge the invisibility that contributed to these tragedies, and to demand a system that truly protects all women, regardless of their background.
