Voices from behind the silence: What it means ‘to survive’ sexual violence

Accompanied by a close journalist friend, she did not talk just yet, responding to questions with brief nods, broken phrases, or lowered eyes. It was almost an hour before words finally began to surface. And when they did, they did not come gently. They arrived in a flood.

Her voice trembled, then steadied, then broke again. Between sobs and long pauses, she began to reconstruct her life. Month by month, from March to December 2025, she unfolded a continuum of pain — her narrative of coercion, isolation, humiliation, fear. A calendar marked not by festivals or ordinary days, but by injuries, silences and endurance.

Tears accompanied almost every sentence. At times, she struggled for breath. At times, she apologised for crying, as though even grief required permission. She was not seeking sympathy. She was seeking release.

What she narrated was a story not only of alleged brutal and repeated rape. It was a story of what appears to be a slow erosion of safety, dignity, and trust, of violence that continues long after the physical wounds close; it was a story of loneliness, “of being disbelieved, threatened, and publicly stripped of humanity”.

Our first meeting was cautious, without expectation. I was simply listening to her, not as a reporter, but as a person.

We met again on New Year’s Eve. By then, she appeared calmer. In between, she had travelled with the special investigation team (SIT) of Kerala police to Palakkad to help collect evidence as part of the probe in her case. Slowly, she seemed to be inching back towards a fragile sense of normalcy. By the third meeting, days later, the setting had changed.

It was then that she chose to speak out, in an exclusive interview to The Federal, wanting her story to be reported, determined to tell the world what, according to her, it means to survive a horrific violation. What followed was not a casual conversation. It was a detailed account of her alleged experience, her transformation into a ‘survivor’.

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Vaidehi (name changed), a television journalist and news anchor, recalls she was going through an emotionally difficult phase after separating from her husband barely a month into their married life. She had filed a complaint under the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act against him. It was during this period that she says she became acquainted with young Congress MLA Rahul Mamkootathil.

Mamkootathil, she says, was attentive and supportive. Over time, she adds, she grew close to him. According to her, he promised her a future together and spoke of marriage and she believed him. But the relationship, she alleges, soon turned coercive and violent in its sexual nature.

Vaidehi alleges that she was raped on more than one occasion, even though they had been in some kind of a relationship. She claims she did not consent, either physically or emotionally. During this period, she adds, she became pregnant. According to her, Mamkootathil had insisted on impregnating her to convince his mother for their marriage. However, once she conceived, she claims, he began insisting that she terminate the pregnancy.

What followed, she claims, was a cycle of pressure and fear. There were, allegedly, suicide threats, followed by threats to kill her. She alleges she was coerced into consuming abortion pills arranged through one of his friends. The abortion, she alleges, was unsupervised and unsafe. She claims she was later hospitalised with severe bleeding for nearly a month. According to her, doctors reprimanded her for undergoing an “unauthorised and medically unsupported abortion”.

Vaidehi says what hurt her most was not only the physical trauma, but the ridicule she faced from Mamkootathil afterwards.

By June-July 2025, social media was abuzz with allegations against Mamkootathil. According to some posts, another woman had undergone a forced abortion and the MLA was under scrutiny. It was then, says Vaidehi, that she realised she may not be the only one to have faced assault and ill treatment at the MLA’s hands.

“After the abortion, I was in severe psychological trauma. I even attempted suicide and spent a few days in the ICU. While I was recovering at home, I began seeing posts on social media. Just days before those appeared, Rahul, who knew about my suicide attempt, had brutally slut-shamed me. He even told me that if I had died, it would have fallen on his head [possibly meaning that he would have been in trouble],” recalls Vaidehi.

She adds: “Later, he suddenly began behaving as if he was extremely caring, calling repeatedly to ask about my health and the abortion. It felt mechanical. I thought he might be feeling guilty. But then my friends told me that my forced abortion was being discussed online.”

When Vaidehi confronted him about the social media chatter regarding the other women, she claims he denied everything and warned her to never talk about it. “He said my life, my family, my sister’s marriage, and my parents would all be destroyed if I did. He spoke as if he was protecting me, and I almost believed him,” she says.

“It was around the same time that I saw a post claiming that another woman journalist [too] had undergone a coerced abortion. When I asked him about it, he told me it was just an old fling, not even a relationship, only a flirtation. He kept convincing me all day that people were wrongly connecting things, even telling me that it was he who planted that story about that journalist, to throw the social media off the scent. He manipulated me completely into believing him,” claims Vaidehi.

She adds: “I was in counselling and completely broken when I tried to return to work. That was when a TV channel aired our private audio as breaking news. After the abortion and my suicide attempt, this was another blow. The same day, in my news channel, I was made to read the news bulletin which carried the very news. I began crying on air, silently begging to be taken off. My voice clip with Rahul went live on air with me as the news reader. Most of the colleagues recognised it was me.”

After this, Vaidehi says, things collapsed at home. “My father stopped speaking to me. My mother broke down. For two months, I was almost bedridden [because of the emotional trauma and the physical aftereffects of the abortion and ‘suicide attempt’], barely eating. Social media was full of abuse and slut-shaming. Rahul kept asking me to deny everything and not complain. He warned me that I would be destroyed publicly.. By then, I had lost the ability to eat, talk, or smile. I was isolated in my own home,” she claims.

Vaidehi adds: “Accounts of other women he had [allegedly] abused began circulating on social media and messaging platforms. The accounts of violence were strikingly similar to what I had experienced. I confronted him, but he denied everything. I began distancing myself from him because I had heard that he had also been badmouthing me in his circle. He then started sending me hundreds of messages every day, questioning why I was withdrawing. Soon after, another audio clip of me crying and pleading to live with my child was leaked. He blamed me for releasing it and even posted a status, visible only to me, implying that I was responsible [for leaking the phone recording].”

According to Vaidehi, this was the breaking point for her, as cyber trolls unleashed a torrent of abusive and threatening messages on social media directed at her.

“It was not only trolls from [among] Rahul’s supporters who targeted me. Even those opposing him were insensitive. They circulated disturbing images and caricatures of unborn babies being terminated, which were deeply triggering for me. You cannot imagine what I went through seeing them,” she says.

“Initially, I was terrified to approach the police. He had earlier coerced me into being filmed naked and [later] threatened to make it public,” Vaidehi alleges.

She adds: “After months of enduring relentless cyber abuse and emotional turmoil, I finally decided to complain. Five or six months after the abortion, on November 27, I submitted my complaint to the chief minister.”

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This was when all hell broke loose. The situation escalated when celebrity friends of the MLA, including Rahul Easwar, a self-proclaimed men’s rights activist, and BJP-turned-Congress leader Sandeep Warrier, exposed her identity online. For this, Rahul Easwar was remanded in custody for more than ten days.

Rahul Mamkootathil was finally arrested on January 11. As yet, the MLA is an accused in three registered cases, including one based on a complaint filed by Vaidehi. There are many other allegations against him, including one involving the journalist mentioned above, who has not filed a formal complaint.

A day after his arrest, Vaidehi posted an emotional message on Facebook, referring to her unborn child and expressing regret over having trusted Mamkootathil as the child’s father. A line from that post later went viral after the Chief Minister was photographed drinking tea from a cup printed with the same line (“Love you to the moon and back”) while participating in a protest against the Union government.

“Earlier, I was forced to hide my identity. But after I posted that note and saw thousands sharing it in solidarity, including the Chief Minister, I found the courage to stand by it. I reposted it [the photo of the CM with the cup printed with her words]. In that moment [after her social media post], my identity became public [her name was not known before] and I realised it was no longer something to fear. I am not ashamed. I have done nothing wrong. I did not abuse anyone. I was the one who was abused. For too long, I carried the guilt of others on my own shoulders,” she says.

The second complainant against Mamkootathil, Aswathy (name changed to protect identity), stated in an email to the Kerala Pradesh Congress Committee (KPCC) president that she decided to come forward after witnessing Vaidehi being viciously cyber-lynched by Mamkootathil’s supporters. She claimed her own experience followed a similar pattern, involving a promise of marriage, brutal sexual assault, and eventual abandonment. The Federal has a copy of the email.

“In addition to my own fear for privacy and safety, I have personally witnessed what happened to another young woman who courageously filed an official complaint against Rahul [a reference to Vaidehi] for sexual abuse and forced abortion. After her complaint, his followers publicly humiliated her, circulated her photographs on social media, and attempted to destroy her dignity and credibility. The targeted character assassination she endured was brutal and relentless. Seeing how a survivor was treated, with her privacy violated and her future deliberately tarnished, has intensified my fear and is a major reason why I am unable to come forward publicly at this time. Today, after hearing a public statement that no complaints have been received by the KPCC president [regarding alleged assault by Mamkootathil], I feel morally obligated to ensure that the truth is known. I am not seeking publicity, sympathy, or personal benefit. My only intention is to protect other vulnerable women from harm,” read her letter.

The third complainant, Bella (name changed to protect identity), who lives in Canada, could not give her statement to the police in person. According to the complaint filed by her, the Congress MLA first contacted her during a period of marital distress in her life, offering consoling conversations on social media. This was allegedly followed by personal meetings and forced sexual acts, which, she claimed, in hindsight, amounted to rape. She claimed she became pregnant and later suffered a miscarriage. This was allegedly followed by denial of paternity, public slut-shaming on social media and sustained cyber harassment.

"I thought about it deeply. I knew that coming forward would invite severe personal attacks, character assassination, and immense stress. I also knew that being a married woman would expose me to even more slut-shaming, yet I chose to move ahead. I have reflected that if I had acted sooner, the two women who came forward before me might not have had to endure this. I am telling Rahul’s friends all of this with compassion and firmness, making it clear that I will not be intimidated by any of it,” Bella says in a voice note sent to the media from Canada over WhatsApp.

All three complainants, Vaidehi, Bella and Awasthy, were subjected to cyber-lynching by Mamkootathil’s supporters. Other women, including Congress leaders who spoke against Mamkootathil, were allegedly not spared either. They were publicly vilified, called derogatory names, and branded as “rathi jeevitha”, a cruel play on the Malayalam word athijeevitha (survivor), implying women who live for sex. One of those involved (in defaming the complainants) was booked and remanded following Vaidehi’s complaint. A woman lawyer practising in the Supreme Court of India was also pulled up by a bench led by the Chief Justice of India, which dismissed her plea to quash the FIR. This came after Vaidehi impleaded herself in the matter. The court observed that if the accused [lawyer] had been a man, arrest would have followed immediately.

An important aspect of the case was the solidarity among the purported survivors. Although they did not coordinate or campaign together, a deep mental and emotional connection emerged, a genuine sense of sisterhood resulting from their alleged shared ordeals.

“One by one, women began reaching out, offering support that went beyond politics or affiliations. Their care became my lifeline. I realised then that this was true survivor solidarity, not a WhatsApp group as the media had suggested, but a deep unspoken bond among women who had endured similar pain and emerged quietly with strength. Even the women police officers were so concerned. When I was placed under police protection after receiving death threats, the officers stayed with me through the night,” says Vaidehi.

She adds: For days, I drifted in and out of consciousness in a shelter [After Vaidehi filed the formal complaint, she was forced to leave home and was in the protection of the SIT for some time before returning home], cared for by women police officers who bathed, fed, and dressed me. I finally opened up to my mother about the abuse in full. She said softly, ‘At least you complained’. At that moment, I felt a spark of courage for the first time.”

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On January 28, Rahul Mamkootathil was released from jail after spending 17 days in remand. He later gave a television interview denying all the allegations and levelled counter-accusations against the purported survivors, insisting that he had not broken any law. He also claimed that he would soon produce evidence that could shake the entire state once he obtained relief from the court.

“It was certainly intimidating. Through the interview, he seemed intent on getting under my skin, repeatedly saying that he still cared for me. Even now, he continues to try to reach me through different means. It feels less like concern and more like an attempt to unsettle and exert control,” claims Vaidehi

On February 12, the Kerala High Court granted him protection from arrest in Vaidehi’s case by way of anticipatory bail, with stringent conditions.

The developments, she says, have taken a significant toll on her. The television interview in particular, she adds, triggered another round of intense cyber trolling, just as she was beginning to regain a sense of normalcy.

The allegations against Mamkootathil have not been the only high-profile cases of alleged sexual harassment to have rocked Kerala in recent times; they unfolded in parallel with other cases of alleged sexual assault in the state.

The December 2025 verdict acquitting Malayalam film star Dileep in the infamous actor assault case of 2017 had sparked outrage in Kerala. Incidentally, today (February 17) marks nine years of the incident which saw the conviction of six others.

Last month, the complainant of the Bishop Franco Mulakkal case publicly revealed her identity. The Franco Mulakkal case is a landmark legal battle involving the first-ever arrest of a Catholic Bishop in India on sexual assault charges in 2018. The complainant, a nun, alleged that Bishop Franco Mulakkal used his authority to sexually assault her during visits to the St. Francis Mission Home [in Kottayam], where she was a resident. Following unprecedented protests by fellow nuns, he became the first Indian bishop to be arrested on sexual assault charges. In 2022, a trial court acquitted him, citing lack of proof beyond reasonable doubt. Mulakkal stepped down from his position as Bishop of Jalandhar in 2023, but reportedly continues to be a member of the clergy.

After the nun came out in public, revealing her identity through a television interview on 10 January, the state government issued ration cards for three nuns (the complainant and her supporters) and appointed a special prosecutor of her choice for an appeal against the trial court’s acquittal of Mulakkal.

The complainant, along with the two other nuns who supported her, continues to live in the St. Francis Mission Home, which has allegedly been effectively abandoned by the Syro Malabar Catholic Church, with two police personnel assigned for their safety.

“The Church has stopped our allowance, and we now depend on tailoring work for our livelihood. But we are not alone. A collective of social activists and journalists has stood by us, and that support keeps us going. Despite everything, we remain determined to continue this fight,” the complainant told The Federal. The three are currently the only residents of the St. Francis Mission Home.

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The survivor in the actor assault case has also come forward to speak candidly about her life after the violation.

Last week, a senior documentary director and academic came forward to publicly allege misconduct by PT Kunju Mohammed, former CPI(M) MLA and filmmaker, during their time on the pre-selection jury of the International Film Festival of Kerala (IFFK), in November last year. The woman further alleged slow progress in the case — despite her complaint having been submitted to the chief minister and being followed up persistently — claiming a troubling double standard within the system. Kunhumohammed later secured anticipatory bail, though the police have filed a chargesheet in court.

These instances of ‘survivors’ stepping forward are historically significant, marking rare moments in the chronicling of sexual assault cases in Kerala. Yet they have also highlighted the intense backlash, the hate, vilification, and social media lynching that these women face publicly, alongside the personal trauma of reliving their ordeals.