Invest in Daughters, Not Dowry

 Invest in Daughters, Not Dowry

Gold medals shine far brighter than gold ornaments.
Every daughter is born with immense potential — to dream, to achieve, and to lead. Within her lies the power to bring pride to her family, uplift her community, and transform the future of the nation.

Yet, for generations, outdated traditions like dowry have weighed her down — not just with the burden of gold, but with the message that her worth is measured by wealth exchanged at marriage.

It's time to change that.

Instead of spending on dowry, invest in her education, her skills, her training, and most importantly, her dreams. Give her the tools to pursue excellence — in academics, in sports, in science, in business, in art — wherever her passion leads her.

A daughter empowered is a daughter unstoppable.
She can break records, shatter stereotypes, and stand tall as a symbol of courage, capability, and commitment.
She can bring home gold — not as dowry, but as medals won through talent, hard work, and perseverance.

Dowry is a chain.
Support is a springboard.

So choose wisely. Choose to lift her up, not weigh her down.
Invest in her future, not in rituals that dim her light.

Because when a daughter rises, her family rises.
When families rise, communities thrive.
And when communities thrive, the nation soars.

Celebrate daughters not with gold, but with opportunities.
Celebrate her not for what she brings in marriage, but for what she brings to the world.
Let her shine — not in dowry, but in golden achievements.

 For more, see https://amzn.in/d/hkTrhtL 

Nigam Shalu (2023). Dowry is a Serious Economic Violence: Rethinking Dowry Law in India 

Indian families though glorified are the most violent institutions

 

Indian families, though often glorified, can be among the most violent institutions when it comes to the treatment of women. This truth emerges from my own experiences and in conversations with women who have sought justice in courts, sharing their everyday realities. While Indian families are romanticized in Bollywood films, on television, and across various media platforms, the reality of life within these family structures is far from idyllic for many women.

In fact, families are often where the roots of violence and discrimination against women take hold—long before they are even born. The pervasive issue of female foeticide and infanticide begins in the very homes where female fetuses are aborted or newborn girls are killed. The skewed sex ratio in India stands as a grim reminder of this systemic violence, underscoring the brutal preference for male children.

Even if girls manage to survive these early years, they are still subjected to discrimination within the family. They are often denied access to basic necessities like food, health care, and education. In many households, resources are disproportionately allocated to boys, ensuring that girls are left behind in terms of nutrition and opportunities for growth. This neglect affects their physical and emotional development and limits their future career prospects.

Moreover, from an early age, girls are conditioned to view their natal homes as temporary. They are taught that their primary purpose is to get married and move out of their parents' home, as if their existence and worth are secondary to the needs of the family they will marry into. This mentality reinforces the idea that women have no permanent place in the family they are born into, while men are expected to inherit and stay within their family structures.

The discrimination extends into economic resources as well. Property rights are a glaring example of how women are systematically denied access to the wealth and resources that are often reserved for male members of the family. In many parts of India, women still struggle to claim their rightful share of inheritance, even when the law explicitly grants them such rights.

Violence within the family is another harsh reality that many women face. Dowry violence, domestic violence, and even incest are forms of abuse that occur in the so-called "safe" space of the home. Wives and daughters-in-law are often treated as outsiders, no matter how many years they dedicate to serving their husbands and in-laws. Their emotional and physical well-being is disregarded, and their contributions to the family are undervalued.

Furthermore, the cultural rituals, customs, and traditions that are celebrated as part of Indian family life often work to the detriment of women and girls. From early childhood to marriage and beyond, girls are expected to conform to an ideal of self-sacrifice and submission. The pressure to adhere to these norms can be stifling, and the consequences of resisting are severe, ranging from social ostracism to physical and emotional abuse.

Despite all of this, the narrative remains that the family is a place of safety, warmth, and comfort. This myth is perpetuated by a society that is largely blind to the violence and discrimination that occur behind closed doors. The comfort and safety of family life are often reserved for men, while women are left to endure hardship and injustice in silence.

The reality is that for many women, the family is not a place of love or refuge but a system that perpetuates their oppression. The glorification of Indian families in the media only serves to obscure this truth, perpetuating a dangerous narrative that women’s suffering is invisible and unimportant. Until we confront and address these deep-seated issues within the family structure, we cannot hope to achieve true gender equality in Indian society.

Dowry Abuse: A Worse Neglect

 Dowry Abuse: A Worse Neglect

That day, I met the family of a young woman fighting for her life. She had suffered 70% burns—her body charred, her spirit barely clinging on. Her crime? She hadn’t brought enough dowry. Her husband and in-laws wanted ₹5 lakhs and a car. When demands weren’t met, they responded with fire. This wasn’t an isolated incident—it was a chilling example of a widespread, deeply entrenched violence that we, as a society, continue to ignore or normalize.

Dowry giving and taking are illegal in India. The Dowry Prohibition Act has been in place for over six decades. Yet, this practice thrives—openly, shamelessly. In most North Indian households, dowry isn’t a cultural relic of the past—it’s a living, breathing system. From the moment a girl is born, her parents begin saving, not for her education or well-being, but for her wedding. Not for her dreams, but for her departure. Not for her life, but for her transaction.

It’s a kind of slow, sanctioned violence. Parents skip investing in a girl’s health, her ambitions, her voice—but they will spend their lives accumulating gold and gifts. The irony is cruel: Indian families rarely train girls to win medals or accolades; instead, they train them to remain quiet, to endure, and eventually to be handed over like goods in an auction—decorated in jewelry, burdened with shame, and told this is what makes a “good daughter.”

And dowry doesn’t ensure safety. It doesn’t buy love, respect, or dignity. The myth that it secures a girl’s future is one of the most dangerous lies ever sold. A woman can bring a million rupees and still be harassed, tortured, or killed. Because the issue isn’t just the money—it’s the idea that women are liabilities. That they must "earn" their place in a household with gifts and submission.

I know this intimately—not just from my work as a lawyer, researcher, and social worker, but from my own life.

My parents, too, saved obsessively for my marriage. They spent more on ceremonies, jewelry, gifts, and dowry than they ever did on supporting my aspirations. I remember telling them—insisting—that I didn’t want dowry. That I didn’t even want to get married. I wanted to study, to dream, to build a life on my own terms. But my voice was drowned in emotional blackmail.

“What will society say?”
“What will the relatives think?”
“What kind of parents don’t give anything to their daughter?”

They weren’t worried about my happiness. They weren’t listening to my dreams. They were held hostage by the judgments of a rotten society that punishes the bold and rewards the complicit. My refusal didn’t matter. My discomfort didn’t matter. What mattered was “what people would say.”

And I ask—when will this change? When will parents value their daughters as human beings, not as burdens to be packaged and handed off with bribes disguised as blessings? When will girls stop being raised for marriage and start being raised for life? Who will smash this deeply embedded patriarchy? 

Dowry is not just a cultural “expectation.” It is a crime. It is a human rights violation. And the silence around it—especially among the educated, the middle class, the so-called “progressive” families—is deafening.

The Indian society must stop romanticizing extravagant weddings and start asking uncomfortable questions. We must stop calling dowry “gifts” and name it for what it is: extortion. We must challenge every ritual, every tradition, every pressure that demands a woman pay for her place in society with gold and obedience.

And most of all, society must teach girls that they are not commodities. They do not have to buy love or acceptance. That they do not have to play along with systems that are designed to destroy them.

Dowry abuse is the fault of the in-laws who demand dowry and commit violence. It is also the failure of every parent who believes a daughter's worth is measured in ornaments. It is the failure of every community that prefers a "settled marriage" over an educated girl with dreams. It is the failure of the state, of the courts, of law enforcement that looks away until it’s too late—until a woman is burned, bruised, broken, or dead.

Enough is enough.

This is not just about one woman in a hospital bed. It’s about a system that kills women slowly, through silence, shame, and gold.

Let us stop asking “what will society say,” and start asking:
What will it take to end this violence?