7.3-Million Women Hit by Violence: SA's Costly Crisis

The numbers are stark. The Human Sciences Research Council’s “First South African National Gender-Based Violence Study”, published in 2022, found that 33.1% of women aged 18 and older, an estimated 7.3-million people, had experienced physical violence in their lifetime. Almost one in 10 had experienced sexual violence, while about 7.8 million had experienced physical and/or sexual violence. Behind these figures are disrupted lives, traumatised families and communities living with the consequences.

Ending gender-based violence and femicide in South Africa will not be achieved through campaigns alone, argue Mogale Mashiapata and Mandla Ndlovu of Brothers for Life Associates, who contend that the country must confront the culture that tolerates, excuses and teaches violence in its homes and communities.

The authors trace the urgency of the national conversation back to 2019, when University of Cape Town student Uyinene Mrwetyana went to a Claremont post office to collect a parcel. She was raped and murdered by a postal worker, who burnt and disposed of her body. Women spoke of their fear, men were called on to reflect on their responsibility, and institutions issued statements. Once again, South Africa demanded an end to gender-based violence and femicide.

Yet, the writers argue, the country knows the numbers and the stories. National emergencies have been declared and plans of action announced, while activists, organisations and public institutions continue essential work. But activity is not impact: campaigns, policies and programmes do not prove that the conditions producing violence are changing.

GBVF, they stress, is a distinct and deeply gendered problem, rooted in unequal power relations, misogyny, entitlement and the control of women by men. It demands targeted interventions to protect women and girls, support survivors and hold perpetrators accountable. But it does not exist in isolation. The same social environment can accommodate child abuse, bullying, homophobic and xenophobic violence, and the glorification of criminality. These forms of violence have different causes but are reinforced by contempt for others and the belief that force is an acceptable way to settle disputes.

This is not an argument for replacing GBVF programmes with a generic anti-violence campaign, but for linking specialised interventions to broader efforts to change the attitudes that allow violence to flourish. A culture of respect cannot develop while intimidation, humiliation and aggression remain acceptable.

Meanwhile, the authors point to the role of firearms, citing Gun Free South Africa’s estimate that 33 people are murdered with guns daily, while thousands of firearms are reported lost or stolen each year. But the gun, they argue, is the end of a longer process, one that begins with the attitudes and environments in which people learn to exercise power, respond to frustration and treat others.

That learning starts early. A child who watches one parent threaten or assault another learns about relationships. A child who sees adults use intimidation rather than conversation learns about conflict. A young person bullied at school and encouraged to retaliate physically learns about power. Not every child exposed to violence becomes violent, but the effects of witnessing aggression and seeing it treated as normal cannot be ignored. Where can children learn respect, empathy, consent and peaceful conflict resolution if adults model the opposite?

This is where the conversation becomes uncomfortable, the authors write: the country must look beyond government, the police and the courts. It is tempting to frame violence as something committed by dangerous strangers, criminal gangs, abusive partners and dysfunctional communities, allowing everyone else to remain observers. But violence is also sustained by witnesses’ silence, relatives’ excuses and attitudes that normalise aggression. That does not mean everyone is equally responsible, nor that victims share responsibility for the violence inflicted on them. Responsibility rests with the perpetrator; the collective duty is to stop providing the social permission and protection that allow violence to flourish.

The writers pose difficult questions. When a family member is accused of violence or criminal activity, do we demand accountability or defend them because they are our son, brother, uncle or friend? Do we support a survivor or pressure her to withdraw a complaint to protect a marriage, children or family reputation? How often do we condemn crime publicly but excuse it when someone we know is responsible?

The same contradiction plays out in communities, they argue. People complain about crime but celebrate the behaviour that sustains it, allowing young people to associate respect with fear, masculinity with dominance and success with intimidation. Society cannot tell young people crime is wrong while treating its proceeds as aspirational, tell boys to respect women while laughing at degrading jokes, or preach accountability while rewarding aggression and excusing threats.

The authors call for a reconsideration of what is laughed at, celebrated and excused. Why is public humiliation mistaken for strength, controlling behaviour presented as love and a family’s reputation prioritised over a victim’s safety?

Government, they write, must deliver effective policing, prosecution, survivor support and prevention programmes. Schools, workplaces, community organisations and families must confront harmful behaviour instead of dismissing it or protecting those responsible. Men must play their part: their silence and laughter too often provide cover to violence.

South Africa does not need another cycle of shock, condemnation and promises that fade before the next tragedy, the authors conclude. It needs sustained action, accountable institutions and a willingness to confront the attitudes that normalise violence. Commitment must be measured not by speeches, marches or campaigns, but by whether women and children are safer, perpetrators are held accountable and harmful attitudes change. The challenge is to build a society in which violence is less readily learned, excused, celebrated and tolerated. No campaign can trump culture. No policy can succeed without implementation, and no strategy can deliver lasting results while society normalises the behaviour it seeks to eliminate.

Mashiapata and Ndlovu are in Brothers for Life Associates.