Empowered by Islam: How the Sacred Enhances a Secular Approach to Domestic Violence in Barbados

When might solutions drawn from the Sacred prove particularly curative? Perhaps when wounds are not only physical or psychological, but spiritual; when abuse desecrates a person’s sense of divine worth; when lasting healing requires a response grounded in the divine, undeniable dignity of every soul. On the eastern Caribbean Island of Barbados, one organization is seeking to provide just such healing.

“Everything in my life is Allah’s work,” says Sakina Bakharia as she sits, sipping on an iced mocha, at a café across from Rockley Beach in Barbados.

Bakharia is buzzing, not only from the coffee but because of a successful 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-Based Violence campaign her organization, the Barbados Association of Muslim Ladies (BAML), was part of. Running from Nov. 24 to Dec. 10 each year, the initiative raises awareness about domestic and gender-based violence on the island.

Domestic violence is a widespread and urgent issue in the Eastern Caribbean. Prevalent for years, a March 2024 report noted a further 21 percent rise in domestic violence cases in Barbados from the previous year — likely underestimated, given a 30 percent spike in calls to crisis hotlines in the same year.

That is why, at the 2024 launch of Barbados’ 16 Days of Activism — an event that included BAML and other advocates — Tonya Haynes, a lecturer at the University of the West Indies, did not mince words. “We live in a world where going to work or walking home from school have proven to be deadly activities for women and girls,” she said.

Her warning was not hyperbolic. She noted that Barbados reports rape rates above the global average and that half of all Barbadian women will experience gender-based violence in their lifetime. “Intimate partner violence, sexual violence, child sexual abuse, and other forms of gender-based violence are daily occurrences in Barbados,” she said, emphasizing that programs like the 16 Days campaign demand we pay attention to those realities.

BAML began in 2010 when Firhaana Bulbulia, now UNICEF’s Eastern Caribbean’s Youth Engagement Officer, created a Facebook group for Muslim girls in Barbados to find safe Islamic spaces to connect and care for one another. In its early years, BAML hosted recreational activities, fundraisers, and community service initiatives, such as food drives for Bajan families. Drawn together by their faith, and united in their sisterhood, BAML’s leaders slowly saw a need to address deeper, often unspoken challenges facing Muslim women in Barbados.

Looking out toward the sea as she finishes her cool coffee, Bakharia says she and her team are there to provide women and girls across Barbados with the resources, tools, and models they need to create a better, safer, and more peaceful reality — drawing on the Sacred to fuel and empower their work.

Building a Spiritual Response

According to scholar Haynes, faith-based communities and institutions can both harm and heal in the context of domestic violence — but they cannot remain neutral. BAML relies on religion’s power to help. It considers religion and spirituality not a barrier, but a source of strength.

BAML members testify to the power of spiritual engagement to help survivors heal and remain resilient. For some, prayer becomes a daily act of reclamation. In Islam, prayer (salah), remembrance (dhikr), supplication (dua), and trust in God (tawakkul) are powerful spiritual practices for grounding and emotional resilience. Survivors find solace in sacred texts. Others focus on sisterhood and community. But at the heart of it all is divine dignity — an unshakeable validation of their worth they feel resonates throughout their religion.

In many communities, especially those shaped by religious identities, Sacred-based solutions to domestic violence do not just resonate — they endure. While purely secular interventions often prioritize legal justice, shelters, or counseling, they can often overlook the emotional and spiritual terrain survivors inhabit.

Sacred responses do more than offer alternative language — they can redefine the foundation of healing. When survivors hear their worth is divinely guaranteed, not conditional, the path to recovery shifts. Islam, when centered as a source of mercy and justice, provides coping tools as well as a theological affirmation that abuse is a betrayal of faith itself.

Parveen Ali, professor of nursing and gender-based violence at the University of Sheffield, said efforts like BAML’s can prove particularly powerful. To test sacred and secular responses to domestic abuse, Ali conducted a systematic search of global studies on Muslim women’s experiences of gender-based violence. Her research highlights how many Muslim women feel underserved by secular support systems, citing cultural insensitivity and a lack of spiritual understanding.

“Among Muslim communities, abuse is not more prevalent,” Ali said. “But there are more barriers to services, such as knowing your rights and where you can go to find the right resources.”

While Ali doesn’t advocate religiously separate services, she advocates for a “person-centered approach” rooted in context and personal sense of the Sacred.

To Bakharia, the framing is essential: “if we took an approach that recognized the individual and saw religion as a resource for healing, rather than an obstruction, half of the problems with support services would be solved.”

In the case of Islam, Bakharia said, domestic violence is unequivocally condemned. Bakharia said abuse is a violation of Islamic teachings. Instead, she said, Islam champions the inherent worthiness of all beings.

Bakharia’s journey to advocacy started with a food hamper drive. This sparked a deeper calling: she began volunteering with BAML and later became its president, enrolled in a gender and development studies program at the University of the West Indies, and took a job at a local shelter, where she met women navigating life after abuse.

“I was a woman on fire,” Bakharia said.

Many East Indian immigrants to Barbados have been successful, establishing themselves as trustworthy leaders in the local economy and civil society. But Bakharia wanted to challenge the idea of the “perfect Muslim.”

“Through advocacy and education, I want to undermine the myth of the perfect Muslim,” Bakharia said. “Sometimes, we pray five times a day. Sometimes, we don’t. Sometimes, we wear hijab. Sometimes, we don’t. Sometimes, we have our life together. Sometimes, we don’t. Sometimes, we embrace the empowerment that Islam gives to women; sometimes, it’s all very patriarchal. I try to show others that it’s less about living a perfect life and more about character. Living your values.”

Bridging a Spiritual Gap

Spiritual empowerment is one of the most fundamental, yet often-overlooked, components in the conversation about recovery, according to Ali.

“Religious practices, such as prayer, seeking solace in religious texts, and engaging in communal religious activities, can serve as crucial coping mechanisms for Muslim women facing domestic violence,” Ali said, adding that policymakers, practitioners, and researchers must work toward creating culturally sensitive support services that recognize the distinct spirit of Muslim women. This includes tailored interventions that empower and uphold women’s rights as well as challenge the socio-cultural norms that contribute to their marginalization and abuse.

Solutions to domestic abuse grounded in the Sacred carry a different kind of authority. When religious leaders, texts, and practices affirm that abuse is a violation of faith, not a product of it, survivors are afforded spiritual inspiration to extricate themselves from harmful situations. What they see as Islam’s foundational faith in human dignity offers a counternarrative to abuse masquerading as piety. Their self-worth, inseparable from their sense of the Sacred, becomes undeniable and empowering.

That is why Bakharia believes Islam-informed advocacy can build trust between Muslims and secular services that provide additional layers of support, such as legal, therapy, and housing services. In fact, faith-based framing may be the only acceptable entry point for some survivors where there may be distrust or apathy toward the secular systems that already failed to protect them. Bakharia hopes BAML can provide these kinds of transformative services in Barbados.

Developing a Sacred Blueprint for Healing

When Bakharia is struggling or facing pushback from the community – from those who do not want her to air the community’s dirty laundry or men who would prefer women remain silent – she often thinks back to one woman’s story who connected with BAML and later participated in their “16 Days, 16 Stories” campaign to inspire others facing similar challenges.

The woman, now in her 40s, grew up in a violent home. “Her earliest memories of home were not of warmth or safety but of the shattering sound of plates against walls and the sight of her mother’s tear-streaked face,” Bakharia said as she shared the woman’s story.

When she asked why her mother did not leave, her response was the same each time: “This is just how things are. We survive.” Determined to lead a different life, she left home, went to college, and dreamed of becoming a teacher.

She met her husband during her final year of university. He was charming, attentive, and full of promises about the life they would build together. But soon after marrying, she found herself in the same cycle of abuse — shouting, slammed doors, bruises hidden under long sleeves. Still, she stayed.

The hardest part was not the physical pain but her daughter’s gaze. At five years old, she had already learned to retreat to her room whenever her parents fought. Her breaking point came when one day, her daughter asked, “Why does Daddy yell so much? Did I do something bad?” She saw herself in her daughter’s wide, frightened eyes, and for the first time, she realized she couldn’t let this continue.

The day she left, the woman packed a small bag, grabbed her daughter’s hand, and walked out while her husband was at work. With BAML’s help, and offer of not only physical but spiritual support, she started to build a new life. It was both terrifying and liberating, Bakharia said. She had to navigate the legal system, find a job, and heal years of emotional and physical scars. But for the first time, she felt agency — and a belief that she could create a different future for herself and her daughter.

Now, she works as a counselor for survivors of domestic violence. Her daughter is a thriving teenager with dreams of becoming a lawyer.

“She gave her daughter what she never had: a safe, loving home,” Bakharia said.

Catalyzed by stories like this, Bakharia has started her own initiative: building a center for holistic support, spiritual guidance, and safe spaces for survivors. She’s calling it “Project Sukoon,” the Arabic word for tranquility or stillness.

Project Sukoon is not just about healing — it is about spiritual restoration. Bakharia will offer women a chance to reclaim what the Sacred already grants them: dignity, peace, and the right to be safe and secure. Her vision is that Project Sukoon emerges as a beacon of hope, resilience, and renewal in the serene embrace of Barbados’ azure waters and gentle tides.

“We want to give back to the whole Bajan community,” Bakharia said. “The system has to work for everyone. Not just for the privileged. Not just for the Muslim or non-Muslim. The West Indian or East Indian community. Everyone.”

By centering their work in the Sacred and providing faith-based healing services, Bakharia believes BAML – and, eventually, Project Sukoon – can provide better solutions for women navigating the trauma of domestic violence.

“Rooted in faith, guided by principles of compassion, and drawing inspiration from the ever-changing tides of our beaches, Project Sukoon emphasizes the power of faith, resilience, and self-discovery as tools to help women reclaim their identities and chart a path toward a brighter, peaceful future,” Bakharia said.

Project Sukoon emphasizes the power of the Sacred as a wellspring of empowerment and renewal. In doing so, it bridges the gap between spiritual identity and real-world resilience. Islam-informed advocacy also helps build trust between faith communities and secular service providers — creating a richer, and reliable, network of support for survivors who may distrust systems that once failed them.

Domestic abuse hinges on denying personhood – a right to dignity that is universally-protected. Solutions with sacred roots, therefore, offer survivors a holistic healing path – one that includes a spiritual, sacred foundation for rebuilding their lives in wholeness, hope, and with spiritual companionship so that they do not walk alone.

The spiritual wound, Bakharia and the BAML sisterhood believe, deserves a spiritual cure.

“Allah has a purpose for us in all of this,” Bakharia concluded, “a calling bigger than we can even imagine.”

By Ken Chitwood