A shot from the film” Rejected." Directed by Zhanna Issabayeva. 2018
In contemporary society, the issue of domestic violence, particularly violence against women, is profoundly pressing. This is evident through the lens of impactful films such as 'Happiness' (2021) and 'Rejected”' (2018), as well as the mural art in Almaty displaying the message 'Love, Don't Beat.' However, this concern dates back to the Soviet era. For instance, it is addressed in the literary masterpiece of Kazakh literature, Mukhtar Auezov's novella 'The Young Tribe,' which he began writing a year before his passing. In 1960, a similar theme was touched upon in the story 'Shuga's Monument' by Beimbet Mailin (1914). The episode depicting the brutal treatment of an innocent wife undeniably draws from ancient customs, but this in no way diminishes its impact and relevance. "In the story, it is stated, 'The hapless Kazakh woman, she has no happiness in the boundless steppe,' and this is yet more proof that even in literature, which may seem official by today's standards, one can always find a vivid and just essence."
Beimbet Maylin «The Shuga monument»
"...Kanai returned from his guests, sullen, wrinkled, yellow, as if all the blood in him had turned to bile, and immediately shouted:
- You bid farewell to one, you welcome another, you promiscuous creature... A lawless beast... He picked up a stone and struck his boot.
- Come here!"
"Until late in the evening, the old man beat Alua and showered her with foul language. She remained silent, not even noticing how little Kenzhebek cried and clung to her skirt. The boy sought refuge with her, defending her. His face, hands, and neck were wet from tears. For a moment, the old man fell silent, fearing the neighbors might hear the child crying. He waited for the sobs to subside.
They had dinner. The village settled down and fell asleep. Lights went out in the neighboring yurts, doors and tunduks ( the central wooden hoop like structure of a yurt serving for light and illumination- translator note) were closed, footsteps ceased, and the voices quieted; only the dogs barked.
The old man took the boy into his bed, placing him closer to the wall. Exhausted and tormented, the boy fell asleep. Alua approached, her head hung low. The old man angrily kicked her in the side with his bare yellow heel. She quietly moved away.
In the middle of the night, when there was no sound in the village except for the barking of dogs, the old man slipped out of bed and hurried to the hearth.
"Get out of my house!" the old man shouted, grabbing Alua by the hair, dragging her toward the yurt's door. At the threshold, he grabbed something heavy.
"I'll kill you!" he rasped. His throat gurgled. "The blood money for you has been paid in full... I'll kill this impure creature! And put an end to my shame..."
With his mouth agape, the old man raised a newly sharpened khanjar dagger above Alua's head, the one he had fitted onto the handle earlier that day.
Instinctively, Alua moved forward and pressed against the old man. He, foaming at the mouth, pushed her away and swung the khanjar again. Alua managed to sidestep and seized the hoe by its handle. Rage consumed the old man. He tried to wrest the khanjar from Alua's grip but couldn't overpower her. Frustrated, he kicked her in the stomach with all his might. She doubled over and screamed in fear.
"For What ? For what ?" she cried and jerked the hoe towards herself.
In the moonlight, the sharp blade gleamed, cutting across the old man's withered cheek and piercing his temple. A trickle of black blood welled up on his gray hair. The old man staggered, released the hoe from his grip, and collapsed on the ground. Alua also dropped the hoe."
"Oh my God, what have I done?" Her legs gave way, and she fell next to the old man.
After the brutal beatings, Alua took a long time to regain her senses. Her mind was clouded. Covered in bruises and contusions, swollen, with bleeding wounds on her face, she was unrecognizable, not even recognizing herself... She asked for nothing, beseeched neither God nor people, expected neither sympathy nor mercy. Her beautiful eyes on that disfigured face were dry and burning with a dark fire. She awaited death."
The cover of Mukhtar Auezov's book “The Younger Tribe". "Molodaya Gvardiya" Publishing House, Moscow, 1966