My wife hugged me to say sorry for beating me up... then knifed me in the back



Inside Britain's first refuge for MALE victims of domestic violence

No need to suffer in silence: There are refuges in the UK for men who are abused by their partners

One resident will ­forever carry the scars from near-fatal stab wounds, while another sits silently in the corner with a face etched with fear.

Both have fled to this safe house to escape violent partners. Both have done so in fear of their lives and — shockingly — both are men: members of a growing band of British male domestic abuse victims.

Jay is a soft-spoken, gentle, 22-year-old labourer from Cardiff who was repeatedly punched by his 32-year-old girlfriend. He tells me he’d be on the streets if it wasn’t for the help he’s getting here now.

‘People don’t think men get hit, but we do. People don’t think men suffer, but we do,’ he tells me.



‘At first I didn’t speak about the violence because of the stigma, but in the end I did and it was social ­services who helped me come here. I had nowhere else to go.’

The ‘here’ is an unremarkable looking ­terrace house in a valley in Powys, midWales.



Founded in 2006, it houses Britain’s first refuge exclusively for men and their ­children fleeing violent partners.

There are 4,000 refuge places for women in Britain, and only 20 for men, most of them at this centre run by the Montgomery ­Family Crisis Centre.

On the day of my visit, Jane Stephens, the operations manager, is preparing for the possible arrival of a man from Cornwall with his children aged nine, seven and two.



'People don't think men suffer, but we do. At first I didn't speak about the violence because of the stigma'

Jane is a down-to-earth and kindly grandmother, who is planning to place the family in one of three bedrooms named Faith, Hope and Charity. She shows me Faith, packed with pine bunk beds on which are piles of clean towels and bedding. The house’s toys are ready in boxes in the hall.

The father contacted the 24-hour emergency helpline over Christmas and the ­refuge staff are liaising with social services in his area before his possible arrival.

As Jay fries sausages for his lunch in the small back kitchen, Jane tells me how the refuge has been a temporary home to 60 men and 28 children since it opened. ­Partially funded by a grant from the National Lottery, it takes in men who are desperate for help, and often badly injured.

‘We’ve had a man who was deliberately run over by his partner,’ Jane says sadly.



‘Other men who had been stabbed, men with severe head injuries, burns and ­slashes . . . to name but a few.’

More than 400 men have asked for refuge here. Often it is police who tell them about the ­refuge while they’re recovering in hospital. ­Residents have come from as far afield as London, Devon, Lancashire and Nottingham and have included a judge, several policemen, and Army veterans.

‘Domestic abuse knows no class barriers,’ says the managing director, Shirley Powell, who also runs a safe house for women close by.

But the refuge faced a great deal of opposition when it opened, and still attracts criticism because it doesn’t run police checks on residents to see if they were, actually, the perpetrators of the violence.

The team who run it say this is because people are ignorant about male domestic abuse and because their approach challenges the gender stereotype that all men are violent, all women victims.

Role reversal: Men are suffering more from domestic violence as women become dominant in the home

‘We are without judgment here,’ Shirley says, adding her team is ­willing to believe the men when many in the criminal justice system, government agencies and police may be suspicious.

‘Everything is stacked against men,’ Shirley says, pointing out that if men report abuse they can be arrested themselves on suspicion of being the perpetrator.

‘If men leave their family homes, they may lose access to their children in the courts,’ she says. ‘They should have the same rights as women in the same situations: gender equality is all we want.’

The safe house, which featured in a BBC Radio 4 documentary, The Last Refuge, this week, clearly offers peace and safety, and, say those who run it, more and more men are approaching them for help.

They believe this is because women are becoming much more aggressive, and because couples are communicating less and less well.

Sometimes they deal with couples who ‘text rather than talk,’ and women who have been brought up to quickly resort to violence when misunderstandings arise.

‘Women are much more dominant now than they have ever been,’ Shirley says. ‘And many women are abusing this dominance. In the home, the gender roles are going through a period of great change, which can lead to rows and disagreements and for some, ­violence,’ she says.

Figures from the national helpline for male victims of domestic abuse show that in 2009 it spoke to 2,300 callers and answered 850 emails. Last year, it had more than 3,000 callers and replied to 1,200 emails — a 35 per cent increase.

Sixty per cent of those men reported some form of physical abuse, including being hit, beaten, or stabbed. They also reported ­frequent incidents of scratching, slashing, biting and burning.

Matthew Bailey runs the Dyn Project, in South Wales, which offers counselling, support and housing to men and women suffering domestic abuse.

He says all types of male domestic abuse are becoming more prevalent. Not just physical abuse, but emotional, psychological and financial. Much of it centres on control, and the problems often start long before a relationship descends into physical harm.



While it’s not widespread — yet — he believes the number of women abusing men is increasing even more dramatically than figures suggest. ‘I think what we are seeing is the tip of the tip of the iceberg,’ he says.

Albert, a well-spoken Yorkshireman in his fifties, suffered years of mental and psychological abuse before his relationship turned ­violent.

It began when his partner started to text him up to 40 times a day to check on his whereabouts. Soon she was texting him as many as 400 times a day, banning him from seeing any friends, and texting ­colleagues and friends if she lost track of him and he failed to respond.

‘I used to drive to a cliff and think shall I just end it all here?’ he says. ‘But then I’d think of the children and think no, I’m not doing that.’

'We've had a man who was deliberately run over by his partner. Others had been stabbed or had severe head injuries, burns and ­slashes'

It was only when his partner hit him round the head twice with the chopping board, so hard that each time he had to make a trip to the hospital, that he plucked up the courage to seek help. This was four years after the abuse started.

‘It’s very difficult for men when they are being controlled and abused, because of the disparity between what they believe they should be doing and what is happening to them,’ says Matthew Bailey.

Ex-serviceman Steve, who is 6ft tall and stocky, is an unlikely victim. The 49-year-old, who ran a pub with his abusive partner after leaving the Armed Forces, fled to the refuge after his partner tried to kill him. She stabbed him in the back with a carving knife while embracing him to apologise for an earlier violent incident.

He was living near London, and after recovering in hospital had nowhere to go.

‘I’ll never forget the journey here,’ he says. ‘It was a bleak October evening. I sat on the train terrified of what lay ahead. The staff met me at the station and literally saved my life. I honestly think I’d be in the gutter or dead if it wasn’t for this place’.

His scars prove his story. ‘No one can see the emotional scars, though,’ he tells me.

‘The pain from them is much, much worse.’ Steve’s partner was charged with attempted murder and pleaded guilty to the lesser charge of GBH with intent.

Hearing men like Steve challenges all the gender stereotypes. And there is plenty of evidence that women’s behaviour is changing.

Female ­violent crime is at record levels. Latest official ­statistics show 88,139 women were arrested for ­violence in Britain in 2009 — nearly 250 every day. That’s an increase of nearly 1,000 on 2008. In the same period, the number of men arrested for ­violence fell by 10,000.

Violence against the person, including manslaughter, assault and GBH, accounted for 35 per cent of all arrests of women. This compared with 30 per cent of arrests of men.

Female binge-drinking is also at record levels and may be fuelling the increased violence both on the High Street and behind closed doors.

There has also been a steep rise in ­mental illness among women. Those who appear to be particularly affected are aged 45-54, among whom the ­proportion suffering a ­mental disorder increased by around a fifth from 1993 to 2007, according to NHS figures.

At the refuge, resident Jamie mulls over the violence of his depressive former partner.

She repeatedly pulled knives on him and their four-year-old daughter before Jamie fled to the refuge with his little girl.

‘On the night we left, my partner called social services and told them she’d kill us both unless we were removed from the house,’ he says.

Jamie stayed for eight months. He has now won custody of his daughter, moved, got a new job, found a new partner and had a new baby.

‘I never thought after all I’d been through, any of this would have been possible,’ he says, as he returns to take a last look round at what he calls his former ‘sanctuary’.

Thanks to the refuge, Jamie’s story had a happy ending. He was clearly the victim in an abusive relationship.

But cases are not always so straightforward, and even if there is evidence women are becoming more violent, the vast majority of abusers are men.

The view at the refuge is that women claiming domestic abuse are never screened or treated with suspicion, so men shouldn’t be either.

They also argue this is exactly the type of ‘shadow of suspicion’ which prevents many male victims coming forward to get the help they need.

Jay, Steve and Jamie did make it here, and sat in the warmth of this kitchen, sipping tea, bravely ­attempting to rebuild their lives.

‘We’re not the only ones,’ says Jay looking at me with his sunken eyes as he tugs on his jersey sleeves and contemplates his future. ‘People say it’s a man’s world, but it’s not if you meet the wrong woman.

‘But no one wants to help us men, no one wants to believe us. This ­refuge is the only place we can go.’

The Last Refuge is available on the BBC iPlayer via bbc.co.uk/radio4