Blog
Masuma Sohrabi’s death exposes gaps in Ireland’s domestic violence response
By Donnah Sibanda Vuma, Programme Coordinator of the Migrant Victim Support Service at Doras, supporting migrant and refugee victims of crime across Ireland.
When I heard about Masuma Sohrabi’s death, an Iranian mother of two killed in Clifden last week by her partner, I kept wondering: what more could she have done? She reported the abuse she had been suffering for months, asked for help from the Gardaí and relevant organisations, and got a protection order. She went through all the systems we have in place, which are meant to protect women from domestic violence. Still, her abuser was able to kill her.
Like many people in Ireland, I was heartbroken by what happened. I work with migrant victims of crime, especially women facing domestic abuse in local communities and international protection accommodation (IPA) settings. I kept coming back to a tougher question: what does real protection look like?
Too often, we focus on whether a victim reported the abuse, whether Gardaí had been informed, or whether a court order was in place. These are important steps, but they are not the only ones that matter. For many migrant women, especially those in the international protection system, the real challenge is how to actually be safe.
Over the years working with migrant women, I have met many who did everything they are supposed to do, yet still felt trapped in situations they could not leave. We do not talk enough about how access to alternative accommodation affects a person’s ability to stay safe. Often, victims and perpetrators must continue to live in the same accommodation and share common living spaces, even when abuse has been reported, because of the lack of alternative accommodation. Many women are constantly watched, with abusive partners monitoring their movements, calls, and interactions.
Even when services exist, accessing them can be extremely difficult. Many IPA centres are in isolated locations with poor transport links or have only the accommodation centre bus available, which only comes a few times a day.
Getting to an appointment, talking to a support worker, or seeking legal advice can be much harder when the person causing harm can see your every move. Control does not always look like physical violence. It can mean always knowing where someone is, deciding who they talk to, and making sure they never have a private moment to ask for help.
That’s why having information available does not always mean it is accessible to the victim. People often tell us they do not feel safe taking leaflets and posters, or scanning a QR code in public spaces because an abusive partner, staff, or other residents might be watching.
Language is another barrier. Many services are only available in English. For someone dealing with trauma, fear, and a language they do not fully understand, asking for help can feel overwhelming.
On top of all these challenges, the hardest question is often: where can a woman go if she decides to leave? I have heard the same question many times: ‘Where am I supposed to go?’ For some women in IPA centres, this question is hard to answer.
A woman waiting for a decision on her international protection application cannot get mainstream social welfare, join a local authority housing list, and is not eligible for emergency housing or homeless services like other women.
Depending on her situation, she may also not be eligible to work and will be worried not only about housing, financial support, and daily survival – but also about her immigration status and ability to remain in the country.
Sometimes, abusers use the victim’s immigration status to threaten them. If her status is linked to the abuser’s, or if the abuser is the main applicant, leaving the relationship might not feel like a real possibility.
For many women, the choice is not between abuse and safety, but between enduring abuse or giving up on a future in Ireland. When people ask why a woman stayed, these are often the hidden realities.
Protection orders alone cannot guarantee safety. Safety also depends on accommodation, access to information, and interpretation services. It depends on available refuge spaces, free legal support, and coordinated responses between agencies. Most importantly, it depends on whether women can realistically access these supports when they need them.
Masuma Sohrabi’s death should make all of us stop and think about how we respond to domestic violence, and whether the current systems meant to protect victims are enough. Masuma did everything she was supposed to do to seek help and safety – but gaps in the system meant it wasn’t enough.
