Ashveen Kutowaroo LLM MSc PMP
Mauritius woke up once again to the same unbearable headline. Different name. Same ending. A woman dead. A family shattered. A society briefly shocked, then dangerously tempted to move on.
Each time we say “yet another féminicide,” we reveal something disturbing. Not only that violence continues, but that repetition has become normal. The phrase itself sounds routine. That should frighten us more than the crime.
This is not about one man alone. This is not about one household, one quarrel, one moment of rage. This is about a culture that still struggles to accept a simple truth: a woman is not property. She is not an extension of a man’s ego. She is not someone to be corrected, controlled, silenced, or punished.
When a woman is killed, the crime does not end at the crime scene. It travels. It enters our homes, our schools, our temples, our mosques, our churches. It settles quietly in the minds of young girls who learn fear early, and in young boys who learn power without responsibility.
We must stop pretending this is someone else’s problem.
The Silence That Kills Twice
The first violence is the act itself. The second is our silence after.
We observe a predictable cycle. Public outrage. Candlelight marches. Strong statements. Social media anger. Then fatigue. Then forgetting. Until the next name replaces the previous one.
But violence against women does not grow in darkness alone. It grows in tolerated jokes, in excuses whispered as “private matters,” in advice given to women to adjust, endure, compromise, stay quiet, stay safe.
We ask women why they stayed. Rarely do we ask why men felt entitled.
This is not accidental. It is learned behavior.
What Our Society Teaches, Often Without Meaning
Let us be honest with ourselves. We still raise boys differently from girls. Boys are taught dominance disguised as strength. Girls are taught obedience disguised as virtue. Boys are forgiven for aggression. Girls are corrected for resistance.
This is not a legal failure alone. It is a moral failure.
And that is why law enforcement, important as it is, cannot be the only answer. You cannot police a mindset after it has already hardened.
We need moral clarity long before violence begins.
The Vedic Position Is Clear and Unambiguous
Here, the Arya Samaj tradition offers something Mauritius desperately needs: moral certainty without compromise.
The Vedas do not treat women as secondary beings. They do not place them behind men. They do not glorify female suffering as virtue. On the contrary, they insist on dignity, agency, and intellectual equality.
The Rig Veda speaks of women as thinkers, teachers, and contributors to knowledge. Women such as Gargi and Maitreyi were not exceptions. They were evidence of a worldview where intellect had no gender.
The Atharva Veda explicitly condemns violence within the household and speaks of harmony, mutual respect, and shared responsibility.
This is not symbolism. This is instruction.
Swami Dayanand Saraswati, in Satyarth Prakash, was even more direct. He rejected child marriage, opposed the denial of education to women, condemned domestic cruelty, and insisted that a society that disrespects women cannot claim to be civilized.
His position was radical not because it was modern, but because it was faithful to the Vedas.
Let us say this clearly: Arya Samaj does not ask for women to be protected because they are weak. It demands respect because they are equal.
That distinction matters.
“Féminicide” Is Not
a Women’s Issue
This is where public discourse often fails. We frame feminicide as a women’s issue. It is not.
It is a men’s accountability issue. It is a family education issue. It is a societal values issue.
When men commit violence, other men must speak. Silence becomes complicity when it is comfortable.
Respect for women is not taught in speeches. It is taught in homes where sons see fathers listen to mothers. It is taught in institutions where leadership includes women meaningfully, not symbolically. It is taught in religious spaces where women are not pushed to the margins.
Arya Samaj, historically, allowed women to study Vedas, perform yajnas, and participate fully in spiritual life. That participation was not decorative. It was substantive.
Contrast that with what many girls experience today: moral sermons about modesty, patience, sacrifice, with very little about self-worth, voice, and boundaries.
Where We May Be Failing Today
It is reasonable to suggest that part of the problem lies in fragmentation. We borrow modern laws, traditional customs, imported media culture, and selective religious teachings, but we do not anchor them in a coherent moral framework.
When young men grow up without a clear ethical compass, power fills the vacuum. Control feels like identity. Jealousy is mistaken for love. Possession is confused with commitment.
This does not excuse violence. It explains why prevention must start early.
The Role of Religious and Cultural Institutions
If religious institutions speak loudly about ritual but softly about ethics, they fail society.
Arya Samaj has always argued that religion without ethics is empty. The Vedas are not books of superstition. They are manuals for righteous living.
If we truly believe this, then every Arya Samaj mandir, every cultural body, every educational institution inspired by these values must speak clearly, repeatedly, and publicly against violence toward women.
Not as a reaction to tragedy, but as a permanent stance.
What Respect Actually Looks Like
Respect is not protection that limits freedom.
Respect is not advice that blames victims.
Respect is not silence to preserve family honor.
Respect is listening.
Respect is believing.
Respect is accountability.
The Vedic vision of society does not tolerate fear inside the home. A household ruled by fear is considered adharmic, unjust, and destructive.
That is a strong word. Adharma.
We must recover the courage to use it.
A Call to Conscience, Not Just Action
Mauritius does not lack laws. It lacks consistency of conscience.
We need education that teaches emotional regulation, consent, and equality, not just exam results.
We need men who understand that strength includes restraint.
We need women who know that dignity is non-negotiable.
We need communities that intervene before violence escalates, not memorialize after death.
Arya Samaj offers a framework that is neither Western imitation nor cultural nostalgia. It is rooted, rational, and ethical.
It reminds us that a society is judged not by how it worships, but by how it treats its women.
We Owe the Dead More Than Mourning
The woman whose life was taken will be remembered briefly. Her name will fade from headlines. But what we do now determines whether her death was only tragic or also transformative.
If we return to silence, we participate in the next crime.
If we speak, teach, and act consistently, we honor her not with flowers, but with change.
Let us stop asking why this keeps happening.
Let us start asking why we have tolerated it for so long.
And let us be brave enough to say this without apology:
A society that disrespects women has already lost its moral soul.
