Lhamo, a Tibetan farmer in southwestern China, lived her life mostly outdoors and shared it online, posting videos of herself cooking, singing, and picking herbs in the mountains around her village. By this fall, she had about 200,000 followers, many of whom praised her as cheerful and hardworking.
Over 400 of them were watching one evening in mid-September as Ms. Lhamo, 30, streamed a video live from her kitchen on Douyin, the Chinese version of the TikTok app. Suddenly, a man stormed in and Ms. Lhamo screamed.
Then the screen went dark.
When Ms. Lhamo’s sister Dolma arrived at the hospital a few hours later, she found Ms. Lhamo struggling to breathe, her body covered with burns. The police in Jinchuan County, where she lived, are investigating Ms. Lhamo’s ex-husband on suspicion that he doused her with gasoline and set her on fire. “She looked like a piece of charcoal,” said Ms. Dolma, who, along with her sister and many other Tibetans, goes by one name.
“He burned almost all her skin off.”
Ms. Lhamo died two weeks later.
Ms. Lhamo was from a remote village in the region of Aba, called Ngaba by Tibetans. Born into poverty, she made a living picking herbs in the mountains. As a child, she was kind and optimistic, her sister said. When Ms. Lhamo was 18, she met a man named Tang Lu from a nearby village. Before long they were married, and Ms. Lhamo moved in with his family and gave birth to two boys, who are now 3 and 12.
Lhamo is just one of the hundreds of women (victims of domestic violence) who have been failed by the Chinese legal system. A victim who sought help many times from various sources throughout her abusive marriage and divorce. Only to be turned away, with law enforcement regarding it as her own personal family matter. Any help to be received is evidently far too late. It is a stark reminder of the stigma surrounding divorce that lies in China, and of course, the empty promises of action by the government when it comes to protecting women of domestic violence.
The public outrage and backlash towards her death have brought attention, once again, to the utter failures of China’s law against domestic violence - which promised police investigations and easier access to restraining orders. More than 900 women have died at the hands of their husbands or partners since the law was enacted in 2016. Just one day after Ms. Lhamo’s death, Xi Jinping, China’s top leader, told a U.N. conference that the “protection of women’s rights/interests must become a national commitment.”
The Chinese internet seized on the speech. And soon, people were calling for stronger enforcement of the domestic violence law using the hashtag #LhamoAct. Within a day, the hashtag had been censored on Weibo, one of China’s most popular social media platforms. Other hashtags condemned the failure of the police to prevent Ms. Lhamo’s murder,
including #StopNotActing and #PunishNotActing.
Lhamo leaves behind two young sons, who remain in the custody of her ex-husband - who is being investigated on suspicion of homicide. It is but a mere cold comfort for Lhamo's sister. “It’s too late to talk about these things now,” she said. “If they had taken it seriously at that time and disciplined or punished him, we wouldn’t be in this situation today.”
Over 400 of them were watching one evening in mid-September as Ms. Lhamo, 30, streamed a video live from her kitchen on Douyin, the Chinese version of the TikTok app. Suddenly, a man stormed in and Ms. Lhamo screamed.
Then the screen went dark.
When Ms. Lhamo’s sister Dolma arrived at the hospital a few hours later, she found Ms. Lhamo struggling to breathe, her body covered with burns. The police in Jinchuan County, where she lived, are investigating Ms. Lhamo’s ex-husband on suspicion that he doused her with gasoline and set her on fire. “She looked like a piece of charcoal,” said Ms. Dolma, who, along with her sister and many other Tibetans, goes by one name.
“He burned almost all her skin off.”
Ms. Lhamo died two weeks later.
Ms. Lhamo was from a remote village in the region of Aba, called Ngaba by Tibetans. Born into poverty, she made a living picking herbs in the mountains. As a child, she was kind and optimistic, her sister said. When Ms. Lhamo was 18, she met a man named Tang Lu from a nearby village. Before long they were married, and Ms. Lhamo moved in with his family and gave birth to two boys, who are now 3 and 12.
Lhamo is just one of the hundreds of women (victims of domestic violence) who have been failed by the Chinese legal system. A victim who sought help many times from various sources throughout her abusive marriage and divorce. Only to be turned away, with law enforcement regarding it as her own personal family matter. Any help to be received is evidently far too late. It is a stark reminder of the stigma surrounding divorce that lies in China, and of course, the empty promises of action by the government when it comes to protecting women of domestic violence.
The public outrage and backlash towards her death have brought attention, once again, to the utter failures of China’s law against domestic violence - which promised police investigations and easier access to restraining orders. More than 900 women have died at the hands of their husbands or partners since the law was enacted in 2016. Just one day after Ms. Lhamo’s death, Xi Jinping, China’s top leader, told a U.N. conference that the “protection of women’s rights/interests must become a national commitment.”
The Chinese internet seized on the speech. And soon, people were calling for stronger enforcement of the domestic violence law using the hashtag #LhamoAct. Within a day, the hashtag had been censored on Weibo, one of China’s most popular social media platforms. Other hashtags condemned the failure of the police to prevent Ms. Lhamo’s murder,
including #StopNotActing and #PunishNotActing.
Lhamo leaves behind two young sons, who remain in the custody of her ex-husband - who is being investigated on suspicion of homicide. It is but a mere cold comfort for Lhamo's sister. “It’s too late to talk about these things now,” she said. “If they had taken it seriously at that time and disciplined or punished him, we wouldn’t be in this situation today.”
Lhamo, a Tibetan farmer in southwestern China, lived her life mostly outdoors and shared it online, posting videos of herself cooking, singing, and picking herbs in the mountains around her village. By this fall, she had about 200,000 followers, many of whom praised her as cheerful and hardworking.
Over 400 of them were watching one evening in mid-September as Ms. Lhamo, 30, streamed a video live from her kitchen on Douyin, the Chinese version of the TikTok app. Suddenly, a man stormed in and Ms. Lhamo screamed.
Then the screen went dark.
When Ms. Lhamo’s sister Dolma arrived at the hospital a few hours later, she found Ms. Lhamo struggling to breathe, her body covered with burns. The police in Jinchuan County, where she lived, are investigating Ms. Lhamo’s ex-husband on suspicion that he doused her with gasoline and set her on fire. “She looked like a piece of charcoal,” said Ms. Dolma, who, along with her sister and many other Tibetans, goes by one name.
“He burned almost all her skin off.”
Ms. Lhamo died two weeks later.
Ms. Lhamo was from a remote village in the region of Aba, called Ngaba by Tibetans. Born into poverty, she made a living picking herbs in the mountains. As a child, she was kind and optimistic, her sister said. When Ms. Lhamo was 18, she met a man named Tang Lu from a nearby village. Before long they were married, and Ms. Lhamo moved in with his family and gave birth to two boys, who are now 3 and 12.
Lhamo is just one of the hundreds of women (victims of domestic violence) who have been failed by the Chinese legal system. A victim who sought help many times from various sources throughout her abusive marriage and divorce. Only to be turned away, with law enforcement regarding it as her own personal family matter. Any help to be received is evidently far too late. It is a stark reminder of the stigma surrounding divorce that lies in China, and of course, the empty promises of action by the government when it comes to protecting women of domestic violence.
The public outrage and backlash towards her death have brought attention, once again, to the utter failures of China’s law against domestic violence - which promised police investigations and easier access to restraining orders. More than 900 women have died at the hands of their husbands or partners since the law was enacted in 2016. Just one day after Ms. Lhamo’s death, Xi Jinping, China’s top leader, told a U.N. conference that the “protection of women’s rights/interests must become a national commitment.”
The Chinese internet seized on the speech. And soon, people were calling for stronger enforcement of the domestic violence law using the hashtag #LhamoAct. Within a day, the hashtag had been censored on Weibo, one of China’s most popular social media platforms. Other hashtags condemned the failure of the police to prevent Ms. Lhamo’s murder,
including #StopNotActing and #PunishNotActing.
Lhamo leaves behind two young sons, who remain in the custody of her ex-husband - who is being investigated on suspicion of homicide. It is but a mere cold comfort for Lhamo's sister. “It’s too late to talk about these things now,” she said. “If they had taken it seriously at that time and disciplined or punished him, we wouldn’t be in this situation today.”
Over 400 of them were watching one evening in mid-September as Ms. Lhamo, 30, streamed a video live from her kitchen on Douyin, the Chinese version of the TikTok app. Suddenly, a man stormed in and Ms. Lhamo screamed.
Then the screen went dark.
When Ms. Lhamo’s sister Dolma arrived at the hospital a few hours later, she found Ms. Lhamo struggling to breathe, her body covered with burns. The police in Jinchuan County, where she lived, are investigating Ms. Lhamo’s ex-husband on suspicion that he doused her with gasoline and set her on fire. “She looked like a piece of charcoal,” said Ms. Dolma, who, along with her sister and many other Tibetans, goes by one name.
“He burned almost all her skin off.”
Ms. Lhamo died two weeks later.
Ms. Lhamo was from a remote village in the region of Aba, called Ngaba by Tibetans. Born into poverty, she made a living picking herbs in the mountains. As a child, she was kind and optimistic, her sister said. When Ms. Lhamo was 18, she met a man named Tang Lu from a nearby village. Before long they were married, and Ms. Lhamo moved in with his family and gave birth to two boys, who are now 3 and 12.
Lhamo is just one of the hundreds of women (victims of domestic violence) who have been failed by the Chinese legal system. A victim who sought help many times from various sources throughout her abusive marriage and divorce. Only to be turned away, with law enforcement regarding it as her own personal family matter. Any help to be received is evidently far too late. It is a stark reminder of the stigma surrounding divorce that lies in China, and of course, the empty promises of action by the government when it comes to protecting women of domestic violence.
The public outrage and backlash towards her death have brought attention, once again, to the utter failures of China’s law against domestic violence - which promised police investigations and easier access to restraining orders. More than 900 women have died at the hands of their husbands or partners since the law was enacted in 2016. Just one day after Ms. Lhamo’s death, Xi Jinping, China’s top leader, told a U.N. conference that the “protection of women’s rights/interests must become a national commitment.”
The Chinese internet seized on the speech. And soon, people were calling for stronger enforcement of the domestic violence law using the hashtag #LhamoAct. Within a day, the hashtag had been censored on Weibo, one of China’s most popular social media platforms. Other hashtags condemned the failure of the police to prevent Ms. Lhamo’s murder,
including #StopNotActing and #PunishNotActing.
Lhamo leaves behind two young sons, who remain in the custody of her ex-husband - who is being investigated on suspicion of homicide. It is but a mere cold comfort for Lhamo's sister. “It’s too late to talk about these things now,” she said. “If they had taken it seriously at that time and disciplined or punished him, we wouldn’t be in this situation today.”
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