Barriers to Help-Seeking for Domestic Violence in Kyrgyzstan: Perspectives of Criminal Justice, Social, Health, and Educational Professionals

Abstract

Purpose

Research with survivors of domestic violence (DV) suggests that most do not seek supportive services from formal organizations. The purpose of this study is to understand the structural and legal barriers that prevent survivors of DV from seeking help in Kyrgyzstan from the perspectives of professionals within the areas of law enforcement, judicial system, social, health, and educational sectors working directly with survivors.

Methods

We conducted 20 semi-structured interviews and 8 focus groups with 83 professionals who are employed as domestic violence or legal advocates, psychologists, healthcare providers, educators, and law enforcement officials who had worked with the survivors of DV in their current positions. We analyzed the data using a multistep strategy derived from grounded theory methods.

Results

The findings of the study highlighted six structural barriers: (1) financial dependence on the abuser, (2) stigma and shame of seeking help, (3) few crisis centers and rigid acceptance criteria for temporary protection, (4) the normalization and societal acceptance of abuse, (5) a lack of property rights for women, and (6) distrust of formal services. The participants indicated five legal barriers, including the following: (1) insufficient sanctions for abusers, (2) unclear provisions and inadequate enforcement of law, (3) a low likelihood of prosecution, (4) poor procedures, stereotypes of survivors, and revictimization during investigations, and (5) protection for abusers who work in positions of power.

Conclusions

The structural and legal barriers that survivors face when seeking help are formidable challenges that will require extensive support from professionals working in the fields of criminal justice, social work, and public health. Findings suggest that both short-term and longer-term interventions that require sustainability of prevention efforts are necessary to address barriers to help-seeking identified in the study.

Introduction

Domestic violence (DV, also known as intimate partner violence or IPV) is an expansive human rights violation and public health issue impacting the wellbeing of children, families, and communities (World Health Organization, 2021). According to the World Health Organization (2021), globally, approximately one in three women aged 15 to 49 who have been in a relationship have experienced physical and/or sexual violence at the hands of their partner. Domestic violence in any form or duration can have immediate and lasting negative impacts on the health, mental health, and economic outcomes for individual survivors, their families, and communities (Breiding et al., 2014; Dillon et al., 2013; Moe & Bell, 2004; Staggs & Riger, 2005). Due to the short and long-term effects of DV, we have chosen to use the term “survivor” rather than a “victim” to emphasize the ongoing process of help-seeking and recovery; however, when the respondents used the term “victim” to refer to abused women, the terms used by the respondents were retained.

The terms domestic violence (DV) and intimate partner violence (IPV) are often used interchangeably in the literature to refer to violence between intimate partners (Krantz & Garcia-Moreno, 2005). However, operationally, these terms can be differentiated. Domestic violence is a broader concept than IPV and refers to the various forms of violence involving members of the same household (e.g., spouses, partners, in-laws, parents, children, siblings), while IPV has a narrower focus on intimate partners only, and may involve intimate partners who are not necessarily residing together. The respondents in this study discussed multiple patterns of violence, including violence against women that is perpetrated not only by intimate partners, but also by other family members within the household (e.g., in-laws). In this study, the Kyrgyz and Russian term translated as “domestic violence” was used almost exclusively. Respondents much more frequently used the Kyrgyz and Russian language terms for “domestic violence” to refer to actions which could be referred to with the narrower English-language usage of “intimate partner violence.” Since the respondents have been quoted verbatim, the term “domestic violence” appears more frequently than other terms. For this reason and for simplicity, the whole study uses DV as an encompassing term in English. When individual studies are cited; however, the terms used by the authors are retained.

Although violence can occur in any intimate relationship, it is more prevalent in certain countries due to factors such as cultural attitudes toward violence, gender roles, rates of education and poverty, and the characteristics of legal systems. The prevalence rates of lifetime IPV range from 20% in the Western Pacific, 22% in high-income countries and Europe, 33% in African region, and 33% in South-East Asia region (WHO, 2021). Central Asian societies are not immune to this problem, with these nations reporting similarly high rates of violence experienced by women. In a nationally representative survey in Kyrgyzstan, 26.6% of women reported at least one experience of physical and/or sexual IPV in their lifetime (National Statistical Committee [NSC], Ministry of Health of the Kyrgyz Republic [MOH], & ICF International, 2013). Evidence suggests that the prevalence of DV may actually be much higher than official reports because cultural and societal norms discourage women from reporting violence and seeking help (Childress, 2018). Most survivors do not report or seek help for a variety of reasons, and only 39% seek formal assistance in Kyrgyzstan (NSC, MOH, & IFC International, 2013). Common cultural practices and norms–including bride-kidnapping, the belief that children should be raised in a two-parent home for economic reasons, the stigma of divorce, and the belief that personal problems such as DV should be endured and kept private–have contributed to high rates of DV and low rates of reporting in Kyrgyzstan (Human Rights Watch, 2006).

In the past 25 years, Kyrgyzstan has adopted and attempted to implement legislation targeting the country’s high rates of DV, including the 2003 Law on Social-Legal Protection from DV (Human Rights Watch, 2006), which defined DV and prohibited physical, psychological, and sexual violence (including marital rape) among family members. The 2003 Law also included provisions for protective measures such as restraining orders. In 2017, the new Law on the Protection from Family Violence was adopted, which recognizes economic violence and requires police to register complaints from anyone and not just the survivor (Human Rights Watch, 2017). In 2019, the Code of Misdemeanors was introduced that contains provisions to criminalize DV (Human Rights Watch, 2019). However, despite this legislation and the presence of certain support services for survivors of DV, most Kyrgyz women who experience abuse do not seek help. This study seeks to deepen understanding of the barriers that impede help-seeking by Kyrgyz DV survivors, using new qualitative data from service professionals as a source of information.

While sociocultural and legal barriers to help-seeking for DV in Kyrgyzstan have been examined from the survivors’ perspectives (Childress, 2018; Childress & Hanusa, 2018), very little research has examined the perspectives of service providers who work directly with survivors. This study represents one of the first research efforts to examine how Kyrgyzstan’s institutions are working to address DV by exploring the experiences of service providers in responding to DV cases, and using their perspectives to better understand the structural and legal barriers to supportive services encountered by survivors. Professionals interviewed for the study include social workers and psychologists working in DV shelters, crisis centers, and child support centers; judges, lawyers, and legal advocates from local courts and legal aid clinics; and law enforcement officials, educators, and public health workers from the governmental and non-governmental sectors in Kyrgyzstan. Due to the nature of their roles, these participants are uniquely positioned to summarize and generalize from the experiences of the thousands of survivors they have assisted over years, and in some cases, decades of professional service. By capturing emergent themes from these professionals narratives, qualitative analysis of service providers’ stories can help further our understanding of the structural and legal barriers that prevent survivors from seeking formal support in a way that has not yet been explored in the literature. These professionals are well-suited to explain how the context-specific barriers in help-seeking structure DV response as they reflect on their own cultural embeddedness and institutional context within which they operate.

These perspectives also constitute a unique data point for the emerging global comparative literature on responses to DV. These new data from Kyrgyzstan enable better understanding of specific national contextual factors and also the specific sociological and cultural framing about barriers, which can facilitate comparative analysis about which factors are held in common with other countries, and which may be locally unique. The analytical findings present themes that emerged from this unique sample of professionals narratives, focusing on the barriers to help-seeking that the service providers experienced and identified when working with cases of DV, and how these barriers impacted their work.

Theoretical Framework

The study is underpinned by a theoretical framework based on integrated ecological systems theory (Bronfenbrenner, 1979; Carlson, 1984; Dahlberg & Krug, 2002; Heise, 1998) which conceptualizes the actions of individuals nested within family, community, institutional, and socio-cultural structures and processes as both motivated and constrained by the material and ideational circumstances available within these structures and processes. With this framework providing a conceptual underpinning, the study seeks to build a new, grounded theory (Glaser & Strauss, 1967) of the barriers to help-seeking, using the accounts supplied by the interviewees to construct causal explanations of how the help-seeking impulses or actions of individuals are expressed, and the ways in which these help-seeking attempts are impeded by barriers embedded in the family, community, institutional and socio-cultural structures and processes. On the basis of the analysis and construction of new grounded theory within the integrated ecological framework (Fig. 1), the study discusses possible pathways to address the barriers identified.

Fig. 1.

Barriers to help-seeking within the integrated ecological (systems theory) framework

Methods

This study derives from a larger study conducted to research barriers to help-seeking among survivors of DV in Kyrgyzstan (blinded). The current study focuses on the structural and legal barriers identified by the service providers working directly with survivors in different roles. An experienced service provider can be a repository of information because they deal with violence-related cases on a daily basis as part of their jobs. In that sense, they become a witness not only to the multi-faceted nature of violence but also accumulate “stories” and interpretive concepts over the years. The professionals were chosen to ensure every major sector that works with survivors of DV is represented in the study. The diversity of professionals and service providers allows for a fuller overall description of the barriers faced by survivors of DV in Kyrgyzstan.

The study uses qualitative data collection and interpretation based on grounded theory research methods (Glaser & Strauss, 1967) because of their ability to provide in-depth analysis and to extract layered understanding of DV. Qualitative data from professionals’ experience has unique potential for generalizing about the survivor population and for generating interpretive frameworks which identify complex causal relationships, i.e., the social construction of barriers to help-seeking. Coding aggregates the central themes or factors which emerge from the professionals’ accounts, generating the identification of a grounded theory account of the barriers to help-seeking as final results which we report below.

Sample and Data Collection

The sample included 83 expert interviews (20 individual interviews and 8 focus groups) held with professionals in the criminal justice, public health, education, and social welfare sectors (see Table 1. Participant Characteristics). The professionals were selected to include individuals from each of these sub-segments and others identified during initial interviewing, based on theoretical sampling techniques (Oktay, 2014). The goal of theoretical sampling is to sample events and incidents in terms of the categories and dimensions that these events represent. As these observations continue, the researcher finds successive cases and examples based on the likelihood that they are able to enhance and elaborate emerging theoretical constructs (Charmaz, 2006).

Table 1.

Participant characteristics

Sector	Number	Male	Female	Ethnicity	Government	NGO
Law enforcement	11	11		Kyrgyz	11
Judicial sector	9	1	8	Kyrgyz	9
Ombudsman	1	1		Kyrgyz	1
Legal aid	11	3	8	1 Russian and 10 Kyrgyz	11
Public health sector	9	1	8	Kyrgyz	7	2
Social services	37	1	36	4 Russian and 33 Kyrgyz	20	17
Education	5		5	Kyrgyz	5
Total	83	18	65	5 Russian 78 Kyrgyz	64	19

The first participants were selected on the basis of their “information-richness” (Patton, 2002) and the initial set of criteria for selective sampling: (1) at least 18 years old, (2) have worked in their current job for at least 1 year, and (3) are able to provide informed consent and follow study procedures, and (4) are fluent in Russian or Kyrgyz. The initial steps of the theoretical sampling process suggested that the researcher (first author) should include social service providers working in the violence against women crisis response sector. The initial set of interviews drew increasing attention to children’s issues within families affected by violence and other issues related to family systems. Following theoretical sampling principles, the information from these interviews indicated the need to expand the sample to professionals providing alternative interventions which leverage education, community, and family assets or endowments. Further comparison indicated that data collection should be extended to organizations focusing on prevention of violence and family-based preventive responses on deinstitutionalization of children at risk. Theoretical sampling process emerging from these interviews and referrals resulted in the following groups of professionals: (1) social workers and psychologists from the government and non-governmental organizations (NGOs; e.g., crisis centers, shelters, and child and family support centers) and academic institutions; (2) judges, lawyers and legal advocates from local courts and legal aid clinics, and district police; (3) social pedagogues from schools and teachers’ training institutes; and (4) public health workers (doctors and nurses) from the maternal and child wellbeing centers under the Ministry of Health.

The participants in the study were interviewed in Russian and Kyrgyz languages using semi-structured interview guides based on several overarching areas: (1) role of the professional in the organization and types of services provided, (2) nature, types and characteristics of DV; risk and protective factors, (3) safety planning and coping strategies, and (4) access to services and needs for support. Throughout the entire interview process, the researcher encouraged the participants to introduce whatever information they considered relevant and concentrated on gaining as much insight as possible into the their constructions of reality, on what they knew, felt, and thought (Wimpenny & Gass, 2000). Permission to conduct this study was obtained from the first author’s University IRB. The study followed the protocol recommended by World Health Organization (WHO, 2001; 2013) for conducting research on IPV. Pseudonyms have been used to protect the anonymity and confidentiality of the study participants, and all identifying information has been removed.

Data Analysis

All the interviews were audio-recorded, transcribed verbatim, and translated into English. Translation was a major element of the data preparation for the study. Professional translators/transcribers were hired as research assistants for the duration of the project. They were resident Kyrgyz nationals with MA degrees in sociology and psychology. They define Kyrgyz as their first language and Russian and English as their second languages.

The transcripts were analyzed using Nvivo 12 qualitative computer software. A team of three researchers coded the transcripts using a grounded theory approach (Oktay, 2014). The “open coding” technique was used to identify the main concepts and categories using word-by-word analysis of the data. “Axial coding” was then used to further reassemble the data fractured during the initial coding procedure. The next step of the analysis involved developing themes and subthemes grounded in the data (Charmaz, 2006). To ensure the trustworthiness of the findings, data analysis was enhanced through analytic triangulation, peer-debriefing, and the provision of examples of raw data in the presentation of findings (Lincoln & Guba, 1985).

Results

Analysis of the interviews with service providers and professionals working in the area of DV prevention and response identify multiple structural and legal barriers which jointly contribute to a grounded theory of how help-seeking by DV survivors in Kyrgyzstan is thwarted. Structural barriers refer to the social and institutional ecosystem that discourage survivors from seeking help. Six types of structural barriers emerge from the analysis: (1) financial dependence on the abuser, (2) stigma and shame of seeking help, (3) few crisis centers and rigid admission criteria, (4) the normalization and societal acceptance of abuse, (5) a lack of property rights for women, and (6) distrust of formal services. Legal barriers refer to obstacles deriving from existing legal system and law enforcement. Five types of legal barriers emerge from the analysis: (1) insufficient sanctions for abusers, (2) unclear provisions and inadequate enforcement of law, (3) a low likelihood of prosecution, (4) poor procedures, stereotypes of survivors, and revictimization during investigations, and (5) protection for abusers who work in positions of power. Each of the themes under structural and legal barriers is explained below.

Structural Barriers to Help-seeking

The six types of structural barriers to help-seeking are discussed in detail below.

Structural Barrier 1: Financial Dependence on the Abuser

Analysis of the interview data reveals that financial dependence on the abuser is a major barrier for women who want to leave their husbands or partners, and that financial independence, conversely, helps lead to enduring reductions in abuse. Darya, a shelter coordinator, for example, explains that women are often reluctant to leave because they are dependent on their husbands and concerned for their children’s material welfare:

She [a victim] unconsciously realized that he may beat her today, but [if she stays with him,] tomorrow she will have a roof over her head and wouldn’t have to work anywhere; the children can study. In other words, she is dependent on him and she’s ready [to stay] for the sake of the children. This is the phrase, “I do it for the sake of children.

Albina, the head of the department of social development in the office of the local mayor, also emphasizes the constraints of financial dependence:

Only those who want to put their husbands in jail go to police. Otherwise she endures, particularly, if she has no place to go, because she is financially dependent on him. She would live with him for 20 years until he kills her.

Tamara, an employee at a public health NGO, also highlights the importance of economic independence. She explains that her NGO provides vulnerable women, including those who have experienced DV, support so they can begin to earn their own income. She emphasizes that helping women become financially independent allows them to become both less dependent on their husbands and more self-confident and assertive, potentially changing the power dynamics between husband and wife. Tamara recounts an instance in which a woman who had received support from NGO’s economic empowerment program gained confidence after obtaining financial independence: “She started her own cleaning company by inviting two other women from a transitional house. She returned to her husband and assured us that the violence stopped.” Tamara recalls the woman saying, “Now I am confident, and he does not do it. I declared to him immediately that I would never allow him to hit me again.” According to Tamara, this cessation of violence has persisted over time:

For one and a half years I have kept asking, “How is everything going?” and she has answered, “No violence.” Her husband saw a different woman in her, who would not allow [violence] anymore. She gained confidence in everything: in her appearance, looks, even in the message she gave to her husband.

Structural Barrier 2: Stigma and Shame of Seeking Help

The second structural barrier identified in the analysis is the social stigma and shame of seeking help. When a survivor seeks support from family members, they typically accept her reluctantly for a short period, but then soon begin to pressure her to return to her abuser to avoid the shame she would bring on the family by leaving her husband. A neighborhood police officer, Duishon, notes that “if a victim goes to her parents’ house, they will scold her by saying ‘Are you going to bring shame to our family again? Go back to your husband.’” Kunduz, a crisis center employee, asserts that shame and social stigma prevent women from reporting their abuse to the police and reinforce their feelings of isolation. Describing one of the center’s clients, she explains, “The woman did not want publicity and did not want people to see the police; she wanted to pretend that nothing had happened.” Faculty members in the departments of sociology and social work in a Bishkek university express a similar sentiment, with one concluding, “Our mentality does not allow [seeking help]… It is a shame to seek help.”

According to Baktygul, a supervisor at a children’s NGO, if survivors approach their families for support after leaving a violent partner, their parents, particularly mothers, often warn them not to become a financial burden on the family. She recalls a client whose husband “beat her to bruises every day.” When the woman asked her parents for help, in response, they said, “Well, all husbands are like that; what did you expect when you got married?” The woman told Baktygul that she had asked her family for help repeatedly but they would no longer provide any assistance. Oksana, a psychotherapist who has worked with survivors in a crisis center for more than 20 years, summarizes the family situation of a woman who has experienced DV as follows, “With her problems she is forced to return [to the abuser], because usually there is no social, household, [or] material support. She remains with the conviction that indeed she is the one to blame, and that no one can help her.”

Structural Barrier 3: Few Crisis Centers and Rigid Admission Criteria

The analysis also indicates that the limited number of crisis centers and shelters as well as the stringent admission requirements at these organizations prevent Kyrgyz women from obtaining help. Alla, an employee at an NGO that works with female drug users, sex workers, and former prisoners, describes the shortage of shelters and crisis centers in Kyrgyzstan:

Nowadays there are 16 crisis centers within the country, but only Sezim has a shelter…. For the entire city of Bishkek [the capital of Kyrgyzstan], there is only Sezim…. If you come to a crisis center and say, “My husband beat me up, I need to escape,” in slippers, then only Sezim can accept you.

Jamal, the director of a crisis center, also focuses attention on the limited number of crisis centers, noting that the single crisis center with a shelter, Sezim, has a capacity of just 20 women. She asserts that the government has a responsibility to provide an adequate number of shelters and services:

In the case of violence, where do you take victims?... There is no safe place. We have 20 beds; we cannot take them [victims] all. There are no finances from the government. The law was passed, but [there are] no mechanisms to enforce it.

Askar, the director of an organization that works with batterers, expresses a feeling of helplessness about the lack of comprehensive services available to survivors. Like Alla and Jamal, he describes a need for more services:

We feel powerless, because we cannot provide holistic help to a person. For example, I can answer the call at 6:00 a.m., but I don’t have the resources; it’s cold outside, and she wants to go to the shelter, but the shelter is occupied.

Sveta, a DV advocate, expresses frustration that even when centers have space available, their stringent admissions requirements can be a seemingly insurmountable barrier for IPV survivors seeking help:

How many times have we allowed these women with children to live in our houses? There was nowhere else to place them. They turn to us and seek help. We call here and there, but they [crisis centers] have renovations or no food, or they may require documents. But, if a pregnant woman barely ran out with her children, what documents are we talking about here? Husbands take everything. Sometimes their [centers’] demands are too high.

Structural Barrier 4: The Normalization and Societal Acceptance of Abuse

Analysis of service providers narratives reveals that the normalization and social acceptance of abuse in Kyrgyzstan is another structural barrier faced by women seeking help to leave an abusive partner. According to Nurjamal, a social worker, “For some, DV may not even be a problem. It may be an ordinary thing that happens every day and has become the norm.” Nurjamal’s colleague Uulkan agrees, adding, “Because such things have been put in her head since her childhood or, perhaps, her father has treated her mother [that way], the woman accepts it as normal. She continues to live her life like that.”

Women’s limited understanding of DV reinforces the normalization of abuse because many women do not recognize psychological and emotional abuse as forms of violence or sex without consent within a marriage as marital rape. Saadat, a psychologist, notes that although psychological and sexual abuse are prevalent in the country, many Kyrgyzstanis only recognize physical abuse as a form of violence:

In many families, this [sexual violence] is not considered violence; it is normal if a husband beats and sexually abuses a woman. When a woman is not ready, is tired, or is sick, he just beats her and demands sex. Sexual violence is present in many families among those who contact us, [but] they do not consider it violence and say, “Well, he is my husband, and I should provide all kinds of services to him.” They are also not aware of psychological violence; they mostly complain about physical abuse. They come to us and say that they have nowhere to go with their children, stay in the streets, can’t go to relatives, and so on.

Saadat further explains that professionals who work with vulnerable women can sometimes help them understand their experiences as a form of domestic violence, “Many women don’t realize that they live in violence until someone from outside intervenes and says, ‘Listen, the life you live is not normal.’ And only then does a woman begin to think, to process it.”

Structural Barrier 5: Lack of Property Rights for Women

The fifth barrier to help-seeking among Kyrgyz DV survivors which emerges from the analysis of service providers’ narratives is the lack of property rights for women. The lack of property rights prevents survivors from holding onto property after leaving their spouse. Balbu, the director of a local public foundation organization, explaines that cultural norms reinforce the notion that women should not have the right to inherit property. Women are deprived of their property rights starting in their birth families. By tradition, parents leave property to sons rather than daughters. In the case of divorce or separation, women lack property rights because they are unable to support a rights claim or entitlements with any documentation, particularly, if the marriage was never legally registered or took place in a religious ceremony called nike. Lawyers from a regional legal aid clinic describe instances in which husbands sign ownership of the property on their parents’ or siblings’ names before marriage “to purposefully put the property in the relatives’ names.” Kasiet, a legal advocate at the clinic, notes that in some cases a husband reconsiders the decision to file for divorce to avoid any legal obligation to divide the property with his spouse: “If people want to marry, registration is required. This is a warning for the property share. Sometimes when women submit claims for the division of property, men refuse to divorce.”

Structural Barrier 6: Distrust of Formal Services

The sixth structural barrier identified in the analysis is Kyrgyz women’s lack of trust in formal services and perception that services will not help. Many professionals working on the front lines of DV response believe that the system is failing survivors who already doubt the system’s ability to help them. As a health worker at a state-run hospital, Omurkan frequently observes survivors’ distrust of formal services. She recalles an instance in which this lack of confidence prevented a survivor from filing a legal claim:

We had a woman who was subjected to DV; she submitted tests, prepared documents to appeal to the crisis center, but at the last moment her relatives came, and she left with them. She did not believe that the crisis centers could help her. She had no confidence in them.

Recent changes in the implementation of DV policies also cause women to doubt the legal system. The government updated the Law on the Protection from Family Violence in 2017, after which the Supreme Court and civil society experts monitored the implementation of the law in more than 20 domestic violence cases. The review found that the law enforcement officials had recategorized domestic violence as a minor offense in the majority of cases and had granted a protection order in only one case. Adilet, a juvenile inspector, notes that the inconsistent application of the new policy means fewer women report DV:

Previously, if he committed DV when he came home drunk, we used to come and take him [to the police station]. We would keep him until he was sober. The next day his wife would come and write a statement asking for his release. We would then issue a protection order and explain to his wife, “We cannot accept your statement and close his case. Since he committed such and such actions, let’s issue a protection order. If he repeats it again, he would have to forcibly undergo treatment,” this was our action. However, today if she goes to the police, they discourage her from filing an initial complaint and warn her about the fine. Consequently, she recants and goes home.

Adilet also notes that in light of this change, “people have understood how everything works and they have stopped calling the police.” He concluded that “the prevailing sense is that the system serves those who are corrupt, which is why many victims believe it is futile to file a complaint.”

Darya, a shelter coordinator, also expresses distrust of the formal system, lamenting that the laws “do not work because of a corrupt system, nepotism, matchmaking, [and] bribery.” Toktoayim, a foster mother, mentions the harmful effects of corruption, “Our officials do not contribute to a government’s budget; they steal from it and run away.” Saadat, a psychologist at an NGO, echoes this sentiment, accusing police and investigators of being motivated solely by ways to enrich themselves, “Bribes are the income [source]. That’s how they [officers of the criminal investigation and police] own luxury cars and houses, as it is impossible to buy [these things] with their salary.”

In summary, structural barriers of financial dependence, stigma, and shame of seeking help, few crisis centers and rigid admission criteria, the normalization and societal acceptance of abuse, a lack of property rights for women, and distrust of formal services are identified as as an interconnected set of social and institutional barriers to seeking supportive services and help.

Barriers in the Legal System and Law Enforcement Procedures

In addition to revealing six types of structural barriers, analysis of the discussions with the experts shows that survivors of DV face five types of legal barriers to help-seeking. The barriers in the legal system and law enforcement procedures identified in the analysis are as follows: (1) insufficient sanctions for abusers, (2) unclear provisions and inadequate enforcement of law, (3) a low likelihood of prosecution, (4) poor procedures, stereotyping of survivors, and revictimization during investigations, and (5) protection for abusers who work in positions of power.

Legal Barrier 1: Insufficient Sanctions for Abusers

The analysis reveals that current laws do not prevent recidivism because perpetrators face only mild consequences. Darya, the coordinator of a DV shelter, explains that weak penalties for perpetrators only embolden them:

Previously, a temporary protection order was issued for fifteen days; now it is issued for three days… We called the police… and he [the abuser] said, “What will you do to me? Imprison? No. Fine me? Well, I will pay and what is next?” The police took him away and let him go at the gate.

The judges in the study noted that when perpetrators are ordered to pay fines, they typically take the money from the family budget, which prevents the survivors to report violence for fear of financial instability. Dinara, a prosecutor, explains that, “They simply cannot impose any fine because it does not work. The victim herself requests to issue a warning to her perpetrator [instead of a fine] because for 1500 soms [of a fine, (equvalent to roughly US $17.69)] she will buy a bag of flour instead.”

Legal Barrier 2: Unclear Provisions and Inadequate Enforcement of Laws

One of the primary barriers to help-seeking that the professionals describe in the interviews is the inadequate enforcement of DV laws, further complicated by unclear provisions in those laws. Darya, the shelter coordinator, concludes that adopting progressive laws is wasteful and ineffective because these laws are rarely enforced, “We constantly introduce new laws, change the old ones. Do you know how much money is spent on that? We have to do something to make these laws work.” Jamal, the director of a crisis center, reinforces this perspective, “After adopting a law in our country, they do not come up with [implementation] mechanisms. How is this particular law supposed to work if it does not have a [enforcement] mechanism?” Lieutenant Nurlan, a police officer, offers a similar assessment, noting that the current DV laws are ineffective because the laws are vague and have not been accompanied by effective implementation processes, “Who is supposed to supervise eight hours of community service? Nobody. The law does not clarify it… the government has no money to implement this mechanism.” Bubujan, a judge, blames the police for failing to implement sanctions: “We impose community service work, but police officers do not monitor [the defendants]; instead they let them go.”

Ambiguous wording in the current DV laws also hinders effective enforcement. While the 2003 Law required perpetrators to be evicted from their residence, the updated 2017 Law states that law enforcement officials must ensure “immediate placement of a person who has suffered from domestic violence, whose life and health are in danger, in a safe place or shelter with their consent” (safe place defined as “a territory or premises where, in the opinion of a person who has suffered from domestic violence, or his legal representative, there is no danger to his life or health”). Law enforcement officials note that they are unsure what “a safe place” means because the law does not clarify the term. Lieutenant Nurlan summarizes this uncertainty:

A newly adopted law stipulates that the victim must be taken to a safe place. Where do we take them? It is a question. What does a safe place mean? Do we take the victims to the mayor’s office? Or should I take them to my house?

Lawyers at a local legal aid clinic also express negative views on the effectiveness of the law, saying few people trust protective orders. According to the DV Law (Ministry of Justice of the Kyrgyz Republic, 2017), “temporary protection order is a document that provides state protection to the victim of DV and entails the application of measures of influence determined by this Law to the person who has committed DV.” Many police officers say that they have never issued a protective order or have issued only one. Lieutenant Nurlan asserts that many survivors fear their husbands will retaliate, and the protective order will not offer effective protection:

There are no guarantees, even if there is a protection order. If he gets arrested, she brings food to him because after five days she has to live with him [again]... On the way [back] to his house he will drink 100 grams [of alcohol] and come back to her and say, “I was arrested because of you,” and will start beating her again. At present, no one does anything–we release him and issue a protocol with fines.

A lack of funding also contributes to the lack of enforcement. The respondents note that while 2017 Law introduced a batterer intervention program, the government has failed to adequately support the program. Tamara, an employee of a public health NGO, observes, “The state allocated money via the social state procurement to socially reprogram the batterers, but they did not include any psychologists to carry out those programs.” She explains that these programs are essential because women often return to live with the perpetrator and highlights the need for sufficient, sustainable funding:

Many women return to their husbands or cohabitating partners; therefore, it is essential to work with both parties. We know how successful the program has been, but it is also a non-profit organization, so if there are grants, we work, if not, then I don’t know.

Legal Barrier 3: A Low Likelihood of Prosecution

Analysis of the data demonstrates that a third type of legal barrier to help-seeking is the infrequent prosecution of perpetrators. Adilet, a juvenile inspector reports that “I do not know of any case where a perpetrator of DV has been charged. If it exists, then I bet it is 1 case among 1,000. Cases have not reached the court. No one has been brought to trial.” Respondents emphasize the problems with presenting sufficient evidence for a prosecution. Evidence is often difficult to gather because the survivors often do not file a complaint until well after the attack. Obtaining a forensic report is very expensive, which means that many cases are dismissed for lack of evidence. According to Iskender, a regional representative of the Ombudsman’s Office, “They come to us without bruises or any signs of violence. We cannot solve it properly. The medical personnel check it but they cannot make a conclusion.” In these instances, authorities cannot pursue legal action, and the case is dismissed.

In other cases, complaints are withdrawn in response to a bribe or the survivor agrees to a pre-trial settlement due to stigma and the pressure of social norms. For example, Iskender notes that survivors’ families sometimes “accept payment for agreeing to drop the case.” Dinara, a prosecutor, observes that “when the case reaches the court, they ask us to cease it by claiming, ‘We reconciled. I forgave him. Please, drop it, it was my fault.’” Ruslan, the head of Internal Affairs in a northern city, added, “80–90% of people make peace. They come today, write a complaint, and tomorrow say ‘He is my husband. He is my family.’ Most cases are solved before trial.”

Legal Barrier 4: Poor Procedures, Stereotypes of Survivors, and Revictimization during Investigations

The participants’narratives also indicate that many women decide not to seek help because poor procedures in police investigations and negative stereotypes about women frequently lead to revictimization and intimidation. Some participants report that police officers are often reluctant to manage these cases and instead pass them off to other officers, requiring the woman to recount her experiences multiple times. Tamara, a prevention specialist at a public health NGO, describes her experience of lobbying to end the “revictimization [that occurs] during the work when investigators pass the cases from one to another in order to identify and document these issues.” She works to ensure that women only have to describe their experience once rather than having to “repeat one thing over and over again.” She explains that for women who have been abused, such repetition “hurts deeply.” Tamara mentions that police often fail to provide a proper environment for interviews and hold harmful stereotypes about women who have experienced DV and sexual violence. She notes that women are often interviewed in the presence of several male officers, and sometimes these officers make offensive remarks or criticize the woman. Galina, a counselor for survivors of DV, also refers to the problems of poor infrastructure and inappropriate police behavior, such as victim-blaming, staring, and humiliating women who report abuse. She states that police often intimidate women who file reports and sometimes even accuse women of being prostitutes:

A woman starts to suffer psychologically already when she is taken to the District Department of Internal Affairs. There, a police officer does not usually have a separate office room for himself–a security officer or an investigator may also sit next to him. Usually, there are several people in one room and imagine, if each of them talks and [makes] a remark such as the one they typically start with: “Look, you have a very short skirt. Your deep V-neck blouse makes you look too open.”

Service providers report that stereotypes of DV survivors often keep police from conducting a thorough investigation. Roza, a defense attorney, observes that while police may appear supportive at the start of an investigation, they often ultimately blame the survivor. The employees at a center that provides support to DV survivors explain that police often discourage women from filing a report because they anticipate that the survivor will plead for the release of her husband the next day, and they do not want to file any unnecessary paperwork. Similarly, participants in a focus group at a children’s NGO stress that because police officers believe that women will reconcile with their husbands in a few days, they minimize abuse and close cases “in the Kyrgyz manner,” that is, by “letting the family fight today and come back together in a few days.” Aigerim, a social worker at a social services NGO, also notes that police approach DV cases as a private family matter to be sorted out by squabbling couples.

Legal Barrier 5: Protection for Abusers who Work in Positions of Power

The fifth legal barrier to help-seeking that emerges from the analysis of the interviews is that husbands who work in positions of power (e.g., law enforcement or the government) are often protected from punishment. In these cases, officials sometimes even themselves engage in violence against women who report the abuse. Balbu, the director of an NGO focused on empowering DV survivors, recalls witnessing the following scene:

Four policemen shoved a woman and her 4-year-old child into a car with a state registration plate belonging to the Ministry of Internal Affairs. It turns out the woman has had a fight with her husband, and the husband decided to force her to return home in this way.

Balbu’s colleague Marziya, a social worker, adds to this account that, “Her husband was a Chief of police. He kicked [her] out of the house and took the children away.” She continues the story, noting that the survivor “could not prove anything.” Balbu explains that the idea that police themselves are batterers “is a very closed topic. A woman [married to an officer] would not dare to file a report.” Kanyshai, a representative for an NGO, emphasizes that not only are the majority of her clients the wives of law enforcement officers, some are the wives of members of parliament. Lawyers at a legal aid clinic also note these women experience abuse of all types but are reluctant to seek help. Aigerim, a social worker, recalls a time when the police has protected an abuser. She explains that she has worked with a client whose husband threatened to throw her and her children “off the balcony if she did not shut them up.” The woman called the police but when they arrived, the officers “gave [her husband] a joint and they smoked together. She learned that her husband had good relationship with the police.” Aigerim laments the futility of reporting in these circumstances, “Even if she writes a statement, nothing will happen to him. She understands that.”

To sum up, professionals’ accounts of their experiences with survivors of DV identify six types of structural and five types of legal barriers across institutional and individual contexts that make seeking help difficult, or impossible, for many survivors. The findings constitute the basis for a grounded theory of barriers to help-seeking for DV survivors in Kyrgyzstan. The findings suggest that these barriers reinforce each other at multiple levels of the social and institutional ecology of the country, making effective intervention difficult to achieve for many, and perhaps most, survivors of DV.

Discussion

The narratives offered by the professionals in this study shed light on the social, structural, institutional, and legal barriers which tend to impede access to services when women attempt to seek help for DV in the context of contemporary Kyrgyzstan. Identifying such barriers to help-seeking is important for policy implementation because structural and institutional support are only effective if survivors can access them. Identifying these barriers in specific country context like Kyrgyzstan contributes to the establishment of a global, comparative body of knowledge around this topic.

The findings tend to align strongly with bodies of literature on barriers to help-seeking from DV globally, in both high income and low-and-middle-income countries. The findings also reveal some specific characteristics of help-seeking barriers in Kyrgyzstan which have been identified in the emerging literature on DV in the country (Childress, 2018). The Kyrgyz results tend to reinforce the findings of studies of similar situations in other countries in the Central Asian region, the Middle East and South Asia. The ecological framework can be used to categorize these alignments at each level of social ecology (Fig. 1), which is useful for conceptualizing the multiple levels of social change, policy intervention and improvement in community-level service provision at which barriers are identified.

By building up the global body of knowledge, researchers, policy-makers, and practitioners in different country contexts can benefit from each other’s experiences to generate better outcomes. Studies from other countries have identified many of the same barriers to help-seeking found in the present study of Kyrgyzstan. These include the minimal reporting of violence to formal institutions and the phenomena of only extreme physical violence being recognized as DV (in India; Leonardsson & San Sebastian, 2017), unsupportive families and fear of the justice system (in the United States; Beaulaurier et al., 2005, 2007), social ostracism after reporting DV, victim-shaming and economic dependence (in Palestine; Shaheen et al., 2020), and the stigmatization of divorce and fear of being separated from children (among Latino immigrants in the USA; Falconier et al., 2013). The current findings provide additional evidence for these barriers to help-seeking, suggesting that the social structural barriers experienced by DV survivors may be more similar than different across geographic regions and ethnic groups.

Addressing social attitudes and de-stigmatization of help-seeking are important areas for comparative research. In this direction, the study provides confirmatory evidence for the DV stigmatization model (Overstreet & Quinn, 2013), especially in the finding about internalized shame and stigma by survivors and their families as a structural barrier to help-seeking, and the way that re-victimization and stereotyping by police and the legal system increase stigmatization of DV survivors, creating further barriers to seeking help.

The study adds to the emerging understanding of DV in Kyrgyzstan by providing analysis of help-seeking barriers from the perspective of service providers. Prior studies about Kyrgyzstan have documented the barriers that survivors of DV face when they seek help; however, most of these studies have been limited to the survivors’ perspectives. Earlier studies have focused on topics including cultural (Childress, 2018) and legal barriers to help-seeking (Childress & Hanusa, 2018; Ragusa, 2013), decision-making about leaving violent relationships (Childress et al., 2021; Khoury & Wehbi, 2016; Lacey, 2010), and survivors’ strategies for coping with DV (Bahrami et al., 2015; Childress et al., 2018; Itimi et al., 2014) and empowerment (Childress et al., 2019). The current study is the first we are aware of to analyze barriers to help-seeking among DV survivors from the perspective of professionals embedded within the system. Using qualitative methods to synthesize the unique perspective of these professionals provides an entry point for formulating a grounded theory of help-seeking dynamics in the affected population.

Implications for Policy, Practice, and Research

The study has several implications for policy, practice, and research for preventing DV and improving assistance to DV survivors. As indicated from the integrated ecological (systems theory) framework, the systemic and reinforcing nature of structural and institutional barriers suggests that reforms to improve outcomes for survivors will need to work at multiple levels of the social ecology: (1) society-level learning to shift cultural beliefs that normalize violence and stigmatize women for seeking help; (2) individual and family level interventions to improve family processes such as coparenting and father involvement; prevention of mental health and behavioral problems such as alcohol and substance misuse; promotion of property rights for wives and daughters, and financial opportunities for women; and (3) community-level change in terms of provision of emergency shelters and care; the training of police and establishment of more effective procedures, clearer instructions for police and prosecutors; effective legal sanctions and greater integrity of the justice system (i.e., anti-corruption).

How to organize the diverse social groups involved and access family structures to turn this complex reform agenda into actions given the barriers identified is a complex subject and a long-term challenge for Kyrgyz society. Integrated prevention and intervention research should play a role. Studies that address DV within a cumulative risk framework and evaluate multi-component prevention efforts that combine program strategies in varying levels of the social ecology such as societal attitudes and norms, household economic security and family cohesion (Bahar et al., 2020; Bermudez et al., 2020; DeVoe et al., 2005; Ssewamala et al., 2019) could be conducted to design effective interventions. Future research could focus on intervention strategies and policies at the individual, family, and institutional levels that prove effectiveness to prevent violence and provide necessary protection in case the survivors reach out for help. Future studies could also examine the opportunities and limitations for various types of social and institutional reforms that could aid the survivors in their quest for justice, ideally building on other international experience.

Short-term interventions are also needed. There are some which can be implemented with minimal resources and time such as educating women on the full meaning of DV and the resources available for survivors (Bennett et al., 2004; Bishop & Bettinson, 2017; Fugate et al., 2005; James & MacKinnon, 2010; Myhill, 2017; Outlaw, 2009), including men in DV mitigation programs (Crooks et al., 2007; Flood, 2011, 2015) and promoting interventions aimed at male batterers (Day et al., 2010; Morrison et al., 2017). Institutional support (Andrews & Miller, 2013; Burton, 2006; Eley, 2005; Husso et al., 2021; O’Campo et al., 2011) through proper implementation of laws, free forensic testing for evidence-gathering, free legal counseling, bureaucratic reform of the “one-window” policy (i.e., a service operation where a victims’ needs are catered to by a single agency, without having to seek help from multiple agencies and departments), fast-tracking court cases to ensure the timely dispensation of justice, police sensitization, the induction of women police officers, and promoting flexible criteria for admission to shelters could encourage survivors to seek help.

Longer-term interventions that require sustained institutional efforts could include gender equality education from an early age for both boys and girls (Barker et al., 2012; Wolfe & Jaffe, 2001), increasing the number of shelters (Sullivan & Virden, 2017), offering equal access to education and employment training opportunities for women (Hughes et al., 2015; Shiraz, 2016), increasing women’s representation in the private and public leadership spheres and justice systems (Carrington et al., 2020), providing financial support to survivors until they obtain employment (Postmus et al., 2014), and passing laws that ensure women have equal property rights (Agarwal & Panda, 2007; Amaral, 2017). Backed by a visibly strengthened structural support system, survivors will be able to cultivate the capacity to fight for justice.

Implementing these short-term and longer-term interventions could help prompt both individuals and institutions to consider DV a crime, which would, in turn, deter men from abusing their wives. In addition, a shift in public attitude would encourage more abused women to reach out for help and to utilize internal and external resources to prevent future violence. If an abused woman cannot obtain support from family members, then she should have the assurance of help from other sources–help that will allow her to seek justice and live a life free of violence.

Limitations of the Study

This is a formative qualitative study based on theoretical sampling approach; therefore, findings and conclusions are meant to generate “thick descriptions” (Geertz, 1973) and explanations, but they do not provide population-level generalizations. The theoretical sampling approach can be limited by being reflective of a few individuals’ viewpoints; however, the rigorous analytical procedure of grounded theory approach seeks to counteract this limtation. All the professionals reflect perspectives from a single point in time, so the study is limited to their current and retrospective observations and does not include ways in which perspectives may have changed over time.

Conclusion

This study is among the first to shed light on the barriers that survivors face when seeking help for DV in Kyrgyzstan. Professionals who work with survivors in a number of roles highlighted multiple structural and legal barriers at all levels of social ecology, including (1) cultural belief systems that normalize violence and stigmatize help-seeking, (2) lack of access to financial resources and property rights, (3) few resources for surivovors, especially lack of shelters, and (4) institutional weaknesses, including a law enforcement climate with well-intentioned laws undermined by dysfunctional procedures and police culture prone to victimization and insensitivity to survivors. Findings suggest that both short-term and longer-term interventions that require sustainability of prevention efforts are necessary to address barriers to help-seeking identified in the study.