It was a watershed moment in September 2005 when Parliament passed the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act (PWDVA). For the first time, Indian law recognised that abuse within a marriage or household wasn’t just physical—it could be emotional, sexual, verbal, or even economic.
Twenty years later, the law has undeniably shifted the landscape of women’s rights. Yet, the question remains: how much has really changed in the lives of survivors?
The PWDVA was revolutionary because it offered civil protections—the right to residence, protection orders, custody of children, maintenance, and compensation—without forcing women to criminalise their partners. For many, it was a lifeline that recognised abuse as more than bruises.
But data reveals a sobering reality. According to the National Family Health Survey (2019–21), barely 1.3 per cent of women who experienced violence turned to institutions for help. For most, silence or endurance remains the default response.
Across India, countless women continue to hear the same refrain: “adjust, compromise, don’t break the family.” Some minimise violence, calling a slap “too small” to take to court. Others fear the economic fallout of leaving, especially when they have children to support.
Families often pressure survivors to reconcile instead of protecting them. This cultural stigma has meant that even with legal backing, women often hesitate to seek justice.
Implementation has been the law’s Achilles’ heel
Protection Officers are overburdened and under-resourced. Magistrates sometimes encourage 'settlements' rather than enforce protection. Shelter homes and legal aid remain scarce. And while the Act covers economic abuse—denial of money, work, or property—this remains one of the least reported forms of violence.
Yet, there are victories worth noting. The Act has broadened the conversation: domestic violence is no longer dismissed as a “family matter.” Women today are more aware of their right to stay in the matrimonial home, to claim financial support, and to walk away from abusive relationships.
Lawyers and activists credit the Act with giving survivors the language and framework to demand dignity. “A daughter can be stopped from choosing her partner, but cannot be prevented from choosing her profession,” explains an advocate practicing in the Bombay High Court.
Two decades later, the PWDVA stands as both a milestone and a mirror. It reflects the progress India has made in recognising women’s rights—and the long road ahead in dismantling the social, economic, and cultural barriers that keep women trapped in violent homes.