How Toto’s* ex-husband used their children to keep her poor

Toto* didn’t realise how unusual her husband’s behaviour was until after she escaped him. It was only then that her friends and community confirmed what she’d suspected but never been sure of. That he was abusive. That it wasn’t okay.

“I wasn’t aware of the actions or behaviours, what’s acceptable and what’s not acceptable and the rules of marriage. I was just doing what I’ve been told to do,” she told FW’s There’s No Place Like Home podcast.

Toto married Eric* when she was relatively young. Coming from a refugee background, she says she didn’t connect with public messaging around domestic violence and abuse. Looking back, she can see the signs she missed.

“Whenever I was calling Centrelink, they [had a] message that if you’re at risk of family violence or if someone thinks that you are at risk of family violence, there was assistance for you, just let us know.. And I never understood that message, never paid attention to it.”

“Unless he’s physically there, we can’t do anything.”

Toto didn’t work. It wasn’t her choice, Eric wouldn’t let her. Still, once she realised she feared for her safety and for the safety of her children, she began strategising.

“I managed to save up some money from the allowance he [gave me], but when he found out he’d ask me for [the] money. And I don’t have that space or options to just say no, so I would give him my money straight away.”

Eric changed his tactics after Toto escaped. He had been their family’s breadwinner – Toto had no money to her name – but the numbers he would report to Centrelink meant that she often received little or no financial support and even accrued a debt with the provider. To this day she still doesn’t understand how that happened.

Then it was the school fees. Their children went to a private school and despite the fact that Toto hadn’t worked for years, Eric was pressuring her to pay the $10,000 annual tuition fee for their children. He accused her of not giving him access to their children – something she hadn’t done.

“He kept sending me invoices and putting me under pressure with the school,” she recalled. “He contacted the school [and said] that I’m stopping him from seeing the children so he doesn’t have capacity to pay anymore.”

Professor Michael Salter is a researcher and expert in gender-based violence. He describes this kind of financial abuse as “the weaponisation of gender inequality”.

“Women are disproportionately the primary caregiver. That is a very specific economic burden on women, particularly because of workforce participation. So when we’re talking about financial abuse, we’re talking about a particular kind of offending that men can commit against women by [virtue] of them being the primary caregiver.”

It’s estimated that financial abuse is present in up to 90 percent of abusive relationships.* Research from Deloitte Access Economics estimates that financial abuse costs victim-survivors $5.7 billion per year with a broader economic cost of $5.2 billion.**

Toto reported this financial abuse to the police. She was told that “unless he’s physically there, we can’t do anything”. For her, like for so many others, recovery was far more difficult without financial security.

Despite the abuse, Toto persevered. It’s been several years since she escaped. She’s developed her skills through volunteering and is now in paid employment. And although she wishes she’d left earlier, she recognises how far she’s come.

“I feel like I wish I left him earlier because everything was obvious. There wasn’t any chance of changing his behaviour. It was just [getting] worse day by day. [But] I feel proud.”

*Adams et al (2008), Development of the Scale of Economic Abuse, Violence Against Women, vol. 14, No. 5
**Cost of financial abuse in Australia, Deloitte Access Economics & Commonwealth Bank of Australia (2022)