Imagine being trapped in a foreign land, thousands of miles away from home, with your every move watched by a distant spouse. This is the chilling reality for Kiran, one of India’s ‘abandoned brides’ caught in a harrowing Australian visa nightmare. But here’s where it gets even more disturbing: her husband, despite being over 10,000 kilometers away in Brisbane, monitored her constantly through cameras installed in her in-laws’ home in northern India. 'I can always see what you do,' he would remind her, a haunting phrase that underscores the control he exerted over her life.
Kiran’s story begins in 2017 when, shortly after the birth of their first child, her husband—visiting India at the time—had cameras placed in the kitchen, living room, and outdoor areas of their home. Two years prior, they had married in a traditional Sikh ceremony in Punjab, near the India-Pakistan border. Yet, over the next eight years, he visited her just four times, each stay lasting barely a month.
This is not an isolated case. And this is the part most people miss: Kiran is one of thousands of Indian women sold a dream of migrating abroad after marriage, only to find themselves abandoned, exploited, or trapped in abusive situations. Yasmin Khan, head of the Queensland-based Bangle Foundation, which supports South Asian women facing domestic abuse, calls this phenomenon a modern-day crisis.
Women’s rights advocates label these women ‘abandoned brides’—a term that highlights the plight of those deserted by Indian-born husbands living in countries like the UK, Australia, and Canada. But here’s the controversial part: some abandonments are driven by financial gain, with husbands fleeing with dowries—a practice still widespread despite being illegal in India since 1961. Others use their wives as unpaid domestic help for their in-laws, a situation advocates liken to modern slavery.
Not all cases are intentional. Some husbands genuinely wish to bring their wives abroad but are thwarted by complex visa issues. Yet, for women like Kiran, the reality is often far darker. Human rights campaigners have documented numerous cases in Australia, where legal recourse is complicated and slow.
In Kiran’s case, her husband promised a shared life between India and Australia, eventually settling Down Under to raise their children. But when she became pregnant, he declared he would ‘never let’ her join him in Australia. ‘I realized this life was not for me,’ she says. ‘He had no interest in me. I was just brought here to take care of others.’
At 22, Kiran knew little about her husband before their wedding. What she did know—his permanent residency in Australia, white-collar job, and abstinence from alcohol—made him an ideal match in her family’s eyes. But within a month of marriage, he returned to Australia, and his infrequent visits to India were marked by violence and arguments.
From Brisbane, he dictated her daily life, ordering her to follow his mother’s commands for domestic chores. ‘He would say, “I can see you on the camera—make sure what you cook is fresh for my parents,”’ she recalls. By early 2022, Kiran’s mental health was crumbling. Community elders in Punjab—an epicenter for abandoned brides—urged the family to reunite. Her husband finally brought her and their children to Australia the following year.
‘I thought God had finally listened to my prayers,’ Kiran says. ‘I would get to live with my husband, and my children would have a father.’ But the nightmare persisted. Upon arrival in Brisbane, she discovered he had brought her on a tourist visa, not a partner visa, which offers a pathway to permanent residency. Despite her children being Australian citizens, she had no legal right to stay indefinitely.
Khan explains that Kiran’s husband’s surveillance and exploitation of her temporary visa status were forms of coercive control—issues faced by many of the Bangle Foundation’s clients. The organization, which relies on state support, grants, and donations, receives about 1,000 calls annually for help with domestic abuse, visa abuse, and trafficking. Shockingly, 60% of these calls come from women based interstate or abroad.
Here’s the thought-provoking question: Why do so many culturally and linguistically diverse (CALD) women hesitate to seek help? Khan points to fear of ‘explaining’ cultural norms like arranged marriages, coupled with issues of shame, honor, and embarrassment. ‘They’re not going elsewhere because of these barriers,’ she says.
Kiran, still in visa limbo, fights to stay in Australia with her two children, clinging to the hope that they will bring her the happiness she once sought from her husband. Her story is a stark reminder of the systemic vulnerabilities faced by abandoned brides—a crisis that demands urgent attention and action.
*Name has been changed.
If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic abuse, help is available. In Australia, call the National Family Violence Counselling Service at 1800 737 732. In the UK, contact the National Domestic Abuse Helpline at 0808 2000 247 or visit Women’s Aid. In the US, call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233). For international helplines, visit www.befrienders.org.
