For 17 years New Zealander Anjali was in a abusive and violent relationship. Unfortunately her story is all too common here in NZ – shamefully we have the highest rate of family and sexual violence in the developed world. Here Elodie Berthe shares Anjali’s story, which saw her bravely beginning a new life for herself, and her son.
Trigger warning: This story includes references to and descriptions of acts of family and sexual violence.
Every day in Aotearoa New Zealand, countless women face an unimaginable decision: to leave, or stay in a violent abusive relationship to protect their family. These are women who sacrifice their freedom, fearing that leaving might make things worse for those they love. Women who feel isolated, not knowing where to turn for help. Women who fight to protect their tamariki while losing pieces of themselves in the process, struggling to find hope.
Our country has the highest rate of family and sexual violence in the developed world. Every four minutes, police respond to a family violence incident, and one in seven children in Aotearoa New Zealand grow up in violent homes[1]. Yet, these statistics only scratch the surface—less than 23%[2] of cases are ever reported. Many women call the police, and many more don’t, because leaving a violent relationship is never as simple as packing your bags and going. On average, it takes seven attempts to leave[3], and the challenges women face after can be overwhelming.
One Kiwi woman who has survived a violent relationship and started a new life is Anjali.
Behind Anjali’s petit figure, calm voice and quiet presence lies immense strength, determination, and a deeply caring nature. Anjali is a woman who should have never known violence – but for 17 years, she did.
Anjali’s story starts far from Aotearoa New Zealand, in India. After a happy upbringing, in a loving family, earning academic success resulting in a degree and freedom, her life changed almost overnight when her parents arranged her marriage. She was engaged to Hassan* within a week – without having met him – and married within a month. Within days of the wedding, she understood the man she had married was not who he appeared to be.
“On the 14th day of our marriage, he picked me up, stopped by the side of the road, bought a large bottle of liquor, and drank it in the car as we drove off,” recalls Anjali.
“I felt total shock and loss… like a natural disaster had hit me.”
Despite her efforts to reach out to her family, social and cultural pressures weighed heavily.
“Twice I tried to go to my mum, my bags were packed. My mum said I could come back but I could see the pain in her eyes. The pressure was so big. It’s a cultural thing, and it’s stupid,” recalls Anjali with heavy emotions in her voice.
Her family encouraged her to stay, hoping Hassan would change—especially after their son was born. Nothing changed. The abuse, which began as verbal and emotional, became more severe, while the drinking continued. Hassan was controlling, cruel, and relentless.
“He would say things that made me feel like trash, I’d feel so down and lose all confidence. [After the abuse] he’d be content and off to sleep.”
When the family moved to New Zealand, Anjali hoped the distance and fresh start would help, but as soon as she and her son arrived, she realised nothing had improved.
Away from family support, the abuse escalated to physical and sexual violence. Hassan knew how to hurt her without leaving visible marks.
From there on, it became a real journey of survival for Anjali.
Anjali’s inner strength and resourceful attitude grew as she started implementing strategies to keep herself and her son safe – she joined a gym to have access 24/7 to a shower, blocked her bedroom door with heavy furniture at night, and it became the new normal to sleep in her car or at the laundromat.
Despite calling the police a few times, Anjali felt trapped. The fear of what would happen to her or her son if she tried to leave was greater than the fear of the daily abuse. And where would she go? Anjali had no money – almost everything she had earnt was in a joint account, she had no family close and only one friend who had already helped once.
“It was survival mode because I wanted to be there for my son.”
Everything changed for Anjali when she met Kim, a Barnardos Aotearoa social worker based at the Barnardos Early Learning Centre (ELC). Kim was part of Te Korowai Mokopuna, a unique Barnardos service fully funded by generous Kiwis that integrates early learning and social work to provide holistic, wraparound support. At selected Barnardos ELCs, kaimanaki whānau workers like Kim offer needs-driven assistance to whānau facing complex challenges—giving families the support they need, when they need it most.
“Kim was the spark in my life,” says Anjali with a huge smile.
“Kim helped me step by step. She gave me time to express myself. She is a good listener. The way she guides me, it’s like a new born child and they know that a mum is a safe space. That is what I felt and I knew it would work.”
Hassan knew exactly what time Anjali was supposed to be home, and there would be repercussion if she was late. So they had to meet in secret – Anjali would text Kim where she was working and they would talk in carparks or at bus stops.
They looked at alternate culturally appropriate social services to ensure Anjali’s cultural needs were met, but she chose to stay with Barnardos. At her own pace, Anjali opened up to Kim. Together, they planned for every detail—how to stay safe at home, what to pack, and where to after leaving.
Anjali hesitated to leave because of her son. She feared losing him, as he was too old to go with her to a refuge.
After months of planning, confidence building and emotional support, Kim received a call – Anjali had packed her bag and talked to her son. She was ready to leave.
“I thought about my son who had seen a lot. It was violent his whole life – what impact would be on him, and what he saw of how to treat a woman. It was for myself and him.”
“I was really worried, but when I saw Kim by my side I knew everything was going to be okay.”
Anjali was placed in emergency accommodation with the help of a local organisation where the rules were strict—no contact with the outside world for safety.
“I was numb when I was on my own. I knew I was in good hands and everything was going to work out. Yet, I felt trapped at the same time.”
Two days later, Anjali was able to go into a safe house and Kim supported her with emotional care and how to navigate the complex systems. She helped her find transitional housing and eventually a private rental which allowed her son to join her, access the sole parent benefit, use the Family Violence Act to have her name taken off the tenancy agreement with Hassan so she would no longer be liable for costs, advocate on her behalf at the gym to cancel her membership and with her workplace to take time off, receive counselling sessions and other emotional support… the list goes on.
“If it wasn’t for the support of Kim and Barnardos, I would have gone back to my abusive husband as it all seemed too hard,” shared Anjali.
“When a woman wants to leave, she doesn’t understand the system and rules, because she is broken. That feeling of support, that everything will work out, that reassurance, it’s crucial.”
Anjali now has her own accommodation, with her son but she still lives in fear. Despite locks and cameras, Hassan comes outside her house, stalks her through her windows.
While Kim is ready to help Anjali put a protection order in place, Anjali hesitates because of her son. “My son doesn’t want me to take a Protection Order because he fears his dad will get in trouble. I also don’t want him reading what I’ve been through, I suspect his dad will show him what I wrote and try once more to turn my son against me.”
Anjali’s healing journey is just beginning – she has a long road ahead. She wants to focus on herself first – her physical and mental health. She’s hoping to find full time work as a teacher while continuing to build a life free from violence.
“I am very happy with my choice. I have a lot freedom in my body. And when I come home and look around, and it’s locked and it’s just me and my son there, in a safe place, I’m good. I can plan a day and my future. I never realised I had so much space in my mind! I want to live for myself now.”
“I have learnt that I deserve to live violence free. And if sharing my story can help even just one woman, then I will be happy.”
If you are, or someone you know is, seeking support, call 111 in an emergency, or reach out to Are you OK? on 0800 456 450, Women’s Refuge on 0800 733 843, and Barnardos 0800 227 267.
