“In this country we are prey” posted Sakane Mokoena on Instagram, quoted in the Financial Times and the Guardian. Mokoena is a friend of Elizabeth Moselakgomo, one of the nine women found mutilated, likely assaulted and deceased in fields around Johannesburg over the last couple of months.

South African president, Cyril Ramaphosa, declared a national crisis in 2019 after mass protests following the death of 19 year old Uyinene Mrwetyana caused an outcry. Since that declaration however, there has been no plan, funding nor any progress in addressing gender based violence other than words. 

The South African Police Service has only words to offer too, telling women to be more vigilant, don’t go out alone. At this rate we can’t go out at all; not for a run, to the shops, to a friend’s house, the park or in Mrwetyana’s case, the Post Office. We have been taught to be vigilant our entire lives; we fight to stay alive every day we exist in this world.

The violence faced inside the home can make it the most dangerous place for some women to be too with the likelihood of a woman being killed by a partner or someone she knows much higher than by a stranger. Official figures report that 569 women have been killed in South Africa between April and June this year. In the UK, for context, there are less than 170 women murdered a year.

The trend I’ve seen on socials is women declaring “I love my country, but my country doesn’t love me” and statements like “I won’t die because I am a woman”. We’ve been saying ‘Enough’ for so long it feels hollow, because clearly, it’s not enough for government to take the loss of life seriously, for institutions to do their jobs to hunt and catch the offenders and more vitally for men to hold each other accountable.

In 2019 women were told ‘speak up, don’t suffer in silence’. We have been shouting, screaming into the void it seems for someone with power to do something. At this point, anything to show that femicide is a real threat to us all would maybe give us some hope. The onus is on men to do something about it. 

I live in another hemisphere and my heart breaks. I am tired in my soul hearing that this persists in my home country. That my friends and family are steeped in this threat and constant fear that I only experience a percentage of over here.

I have recently started vocalising to my husband my thought process when we’re out walking. I highlight dark corners, ask if he has also seen the people moving towards or away from us or how I’m calculating an escape plan at every turn. Telling him I wouldn’t walk this way alone, did he notice the guy just under the tree just there or nobody would see if I was pushed in that direction. It’s so normalised I didn’t realise until I vocalised my thoughts that it was constant and I am certain every person with a protected characteristic can relate.  

 Where does the anger go? Where do we put our frustration? How long can we hold this grief? When will those in charge care enough to do something? When will the killing stop? When will men do something? Women cannot do anymore.