NFHS-6: Why Falling Numbers Don’t Mean Women Are Safer

The murder of Debosmita Paul should have been unimaginable. A university academic, she was killed in her home in Delhi by individuals who travelled across states, planned their crime carefully, and exploited trust to carry it out. This was not impulsive violence; it was deliberate and calculated. Sadly, this is a familiar pattern today.

In India today, violence against women does not happen in isolation; it exists within a system that allows it to continue.  This makes the current situation paradoxical. On paper, India seems to be making progress. According to NFHS-6 (National Family Health Survey) data, reported spousal violence among women aged 18 to 49 has decreased from 29.2% to 22.3%. Physical violence during pregnancy has dropped from 3.1% to 2.7%, and early sexual violence among young women has also fallen.

For a country with over 1.4 billion people, even small percentage-point declines mean millions of women are facing less violence.  However, the lived reality does not match the data.  National averages hide deep and persistent inequalities. While states like Karnataka have seen dramatic declines—from 44.4% to 14.1%—others still report alarmingly high levels of violence. Bihar, at 36.1%, remains far above the national average, while Telangana and Tamil Nadu also show consistently high rates. Kerala, often viewed as a development model, has actually recorded a sharp increase. These variations make it clear: India is not progressing uniformly. It is a mix of advancement and stagnation.  

The gap between rural and urban India further emphasises this unevenness. Nearly 24.4% of rural women report spousal violence compared with 17.5% in urban areas. This gap highlights structural inequality—less access to education, limited economic independence, weaker institutional support, and stronger social pressures that discourage reporting.  And even these numbers only scratch the surface. 

Every NFHS statistic represents a lower estimate. Underreporting is one of the defining features of gender-based violence in India. Surveys struggle to ensure privacy, especially in joint-family households. Social stigma, fear of backlash, and lack of trust in law enforcement keep many women silent before they can speak up. The gap between what women experience and what gets reported is not incidental; it is systemic.  

This is where NCRB (National Crime Records Bureau) data provides a sobering contrast. Over 4.4 lakh cases of crimes against women are reported each year in India. The largest share consists of cruelty by husbands or relatives, followed by tens of thousands of rape cases each year, most involving perpetrators known to the victims. Yet, the most telling statistic is not the number of incidents but the outcomes. Conviction rates remain low, usually around 25% to 30% in rape cases and even lower for domestic violence offenses. Cases drag on for years, survivors withdraw, and justice often remains incomplete.  The result is a system where violence can be reported, but accountability is uncertain.  

Cases like Debosmita Paul’s murder also challenge another belief—that education or an urban setting guarantees safety. Here was a financially independent, educated woman in the national capital, targeted due to a dispute over property and trust. Her case reflects a broader truth: women’s autonomy—economic, social, or legal—does not always protect them; in some cases, it can even make them targets. 

This aligns with decades of NFHS data. Gender-based violence in India is structural. It is influenced by economic dependence, unequal education in households, early marriages, caste-based discrimination, and substance abuse, particularly the consumption of alcohol by men.  

At the same time, the data highlights what works. Women’s financial inclusion has improved significantly, with bank account ownership rising from 78.6% to 89%, and workforce participation increasing from 25.4% to 30.8%.

Economic empowerment is not accidental—it is a consistent factor associated with reduced vulnerability to violence. Having the ability to earn, save, and leave changes a woman’s standing within her household and in society.  Yet empowerment is uneven—and where it is limited, it often clashes with rigid social norms.  

India’s policy framework shows both ambition and contradiction. The Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act (2005), Mission Shakti, One Stop Centres, and fast-track courts create a substantial institutional structure. However, implementation falls far short of what is intended. Police responses are inconsistent, complaints are often discouraged, and basic requirements like appointing Protection Officers are not met uniformly across states. 

Meanwhile, significant legal gaps remain. Marital rape is excluded from the criminal code, despite evidence of violence in marriage, including during pregnancy.  What emerges, then, is not a lack of policy but a lack of execution.  

The decline in reported violence is real, but it exists within an ongoing crisis. When one in five married women still reports experiencing spousal violence, the baseline itself is deeply concerning. When millions of cases never enter the legal system, and those that do often fail to result in convictions, progress begins to resemble incremental relief rather than real change.  The danger lies in confusing statistical improvement for structural transformation.  

The headlines tell a different story. They reveal that women remain vulnerable at home, in public spaces, at work, and even within systems meant to protect them. They show that violence adapts—it does not simply go away.  India is moving forward, but not quickly enough, not evenly enough, and not deeply enough.  

Until this changes, every drop in numbers will coexist with tragedies that remind us how far we still have to go.

Trishna Sarkar is Faculty in the Dept of Economics, Dr BhimRao Ambedkar College, University of Delhi. Harshit Kumar is pursuing Masters in Economics, Ambedkar University, Delhi. The views are personal.