Personal Experience
I see my reflection in the mirror and ask myself why I am worth less. In Kazakhstan, there is a saying: “A girl is a guest”. And I have always been one-first in my own home, where I was expected to marry quickly, and then in my husband’s home, where I remained just as much of a stranger.
This belief is deeply rooted even in the names we are given. My name is Ulbolsyn, which, in Kazakh, means ‘Let the next one be a boy.’ A boy is a strength, a sword, an heir. But a girl? She is merely a fleeting beauty-temporary, unappreciated, destined to fade as quickly as a tulip. A beauty that must remain silent – unable to refuse her husband or her family.
As a child, I dreamed of the world and conquering the universe but all my dreams were met with either cruel laughter or total silence. «A girl must know her place», they said, so I quickly learned that serving and pleasing others was the only way to survive.
When the time came for marriage, I convinced myself it would be different. Perhaps love would soften the edges of this world, perhaps my husband would see me as more than just a guest. But reality hit me like a blade. I was caged and like many women could not escape the horrors my husband put me through. If dinner wasn’t made, if I was too occupied with the children, if I wasn’t cheerful enough – each became a reason to justify abuse. As time passed by I realized many of us did not see any way out. They wanted us to be beautiful little fools. But the thing about fools is that you never expect them to fight back. And when we do, we will roar louder than the lions.
This story is powerful, and the data that follows shows that it is far from alone….
The issue of women’s rights in Kazakhstan has drawn international attention. Every year, at least 80 women in the country are killed due to domestic violence. Police receive over 300 reports of abuse every single day, a number that continues to rise annually. In 2024, approximately 100,000 cases of domestic abuse were reported to the police. Yet the legal punishment remains shockingly light: causing physical harm can result in a mere fine of up to $650 or a short arrest of up to 25 days. In essence, $650 is what a woman’s life is worth in Kazakhstan.
Deeply rooted misogyny only fuels this crisis. A significant number of men believe that women are “mostly to blame” for domestic violence because “they don’t watch their mouths.” Even some government officials have publicly stated that “provocative women” should be jailed alongside their abusers.
According to official data, one in six Kazakh women between the ages of 18 and 49 has experienced physical or sexual violence at least once in her life. Until just last year, domestic violence wasn’t even classified as a criminal offense in Kazakhstan. It took a national tragedy to spark change — the brutal killing of a young woman beaten to death by her husband, who was a former Minister of National Economy. His high status made the crime even more disturbing, revealing how some powerful men believe they can get away with anything.
Though he was eventually charged and sentenced, this case stands as a painful reminder of countless women who never received justice — not even in death. And as long as people like him are in charge, dictating how women should act and what they can do with their bodies, real progress for women’s rights in Kazakhstan remains a distant hope.