South Africa in the vortex of gender-based violence

Women wearing orange t-shirts roam a suburb of South Africa notorious for its crime. They knock on doors, stop passers-by, and even children returning from school to inform them. The work done by these “brigades against gender-based violence” in South Africa is enormous.

The South African government has made tackling the scourge of gender-based violence a priority, acknowledging that the situation is out of control.

The testimonies of the victims are shocking, the number of cases is dizzying.

A student who was cut into pieces and placed in a suitcase. Another, a rape victim, was beaten to death. An eight-month-old pregnant woman found hanging from a tree… The list is long and does not stop growing.

“We can not stand idly by waiting for justice to do its job,” said Juliet Engongiama, a 52-year-old activist. Even more so because gender-based violence increased during the covid-19 pandemic.

Every two women activists talk to anyone they meet, men and women. “Sexual violence is an abuse in many forms: psychological, physical, financial, emotional,” they explain.

South Africa has a reputation for being one of the countries with the highest rates of violence against women worldwide.

One hundred rapes a day

More than 100 rapes are recorded daily and a woman is murdered every three hours, according to official figures. Between July and September, rapes increased by 7.1%, with 9,556 cases reported. Not to mention those who do not declare.

“These numbers are embarrassing,” South African President Cyril Ramafoza said in November, calling the gender-based violence a “pandemic parallel” to covid-19.

“It is a relentless war raging against women’s bodies and which, despite all our efforts, does not seem to be escalating,” she added. And “if we can judge the character of a country by the way it treats women and children, then we are in a desperately bad situation.”

The brigades began their work in August in the Johannesburg area “to reach the victims through a door-to-door campaign,” explained coordinator Senosa Malesella, noting that these actions helped make new complaints.

Neighbors recently informed brigades about a 22-year-old woman being abused by her brother. Too frightened to tell the details, she gives the activists her phone so they can pick it up later.

Women like her, trapped in the same space as their perpetrators, often find no refuge. In South Africa, however, there are about 100 shelters for battered women, who often receive state funding.

Lockdowns

The Nisaa Center in Lenasia, near Johannesburg, has never been empty since it was established in April 1994, says Gladys Madinci, 57, director. “Instead of improving the situation (…), it is getting worse,” he said.

In Cape Town, the authorities at Saint Anne Shelter have also seen an increase in incidents of gender-based violence over the past two years. During a recent journalist visit to the shelter, a woman arrived overnight and another with a baby in the morning.

The lockdown forced more women to flee their homes, said the shelter’s director, Joey Lang. “Previously, victims could breathe when they went to work.” Now the level of violence, “its intensity”, have increased.

In September, the South African parliament passed three laws to strengthen its arsenal, but activists say the root of the problem is not being addressed.

South Africans often grow up without a father and having been abused themselves, explains Craig Wilkinson, founder of Father A Nation. With misconceptions about masculinity and endemic unemployment, “all factors are explosive.”

Normalization of violence

“No law will be able to cure injured, disbanded men,” he said. The law itself “is like putting a lid on a pot. You have to manage the pressure, otherwise it will burst”.

“We must (…) remind men of their worth, heal them, teach them to use their power” for good.

“Sexual violence has become so normal that it is” much harder for victims to seek help and for others to help, “said Nisaa Center’s Sima Dia.

Natalie, 40, who went to a shelter two months ago, took ten years to escape her tormentor, who broke her ribs with an iron rod.

Jacqueline, 29, has been living in Saint Anne for nine months. He talks about “a guy who hit me so hard that I hate myself for letting him do it”. She has not reported him, but she is relieved that he survived.

SOURCE: AMPE