Violence is South Africa’s unofficial 13th language

Violence is South Africa’s unofficial 13th language. It is ubiquitous, woven deeply into the fabric of our daily lives. We speak it fluently in our homes, our schools and our streets. It dictates how intimate partners interact, how parents discipline children, how teachers engage pupils and how men and women coexist.

Our collective fluency has bred numbness; we barely notice the white noise until a crisis forces us to look. Once again, the brutal grammar of this language has been laid bare. As the nation mourns the tragic discovery of women’s bodies across the East Rand – including that of avid social runner Elizabeth “Tsontso” Moselakgomo, who never returned from her jog – we are forced to confront the deadly cost of our most widely spoken tongue.

According to the latest first-quarter crime statistics released by the South African Police Service, 5,427 people were murdered between April and June this year – an average of nearly 60 every single day. Viewed through a gendered lens, the trends are horrifying: 569 women were killed during this three-month window, meaning an average of six women are murdered daily. Another 1,052 survived attempted murders. The scourge of sexual violence is bleaker still; out of 9,201 reported rape cases, women and children were the victims in 8,814 of them.

These data points indicate a country that has normalised an abnormal situation. The language of violence has become so deeply embedded in our national psyche that we now require heightened security measures in the most mundane spaces of everyday life – from post offices and public parks, to the public roads where citizens simply go for a run.

Worryingly, a decay of common moral and social values is actively accelerating this crisis. We saw it this month when young people thoughtlessly threw water at non-consenting adults and escalated to violence when met with disapproval. We see it in institutional research from organisations like the Soul City Institute, which reveals that about 47.2% of all recorded rapes occur within domestic spaces – the very homes of the victims or perpetrators.

When your home, your commute, your public park and your exercise routes are hostile territory, a fundamental question emerges: where is it safe for a woman to simply exist without fear?

In light of these horrific circumstances, the leadership within the Presidency responsible for women, youth and persons with disabilities must move beyond empty condemnation. They must act with absolute urgency to galvanise resources for the security cluster, fund community-level prevention workshops and rigorously enforce policy implementations across all structures of governance. Furthermore, there is a fundamental need for men, starting at the highest echelons of government and corporate sectors, to speak in unison about our collective responsibility to create safe spaces.

This change begins with an uncomfortable acknowledgment from men. We may not be individually responsible for these crimes, but we represent a gender that consistently perpetrates violence against women. If you walk behind a woman at night, even with the purest intentions, she will likely feel afraid because of what our fellow men have done.

To systematically dismantle this crisis, we need urgent, uncompromised conversations across several fronts. We must challenge and evolve toxic gender norms. We must educate our society to understand that abuse manifests in many non-physical ways. Civic and religious organisations, our churches, mosques, clubs and taverns, must actively step up as spaces for moral accountability. Finally, because habits are formed at a young age, we must intervene at the grassroots level.

The recent uptick of viral videos showing violent behaviour among boys in schools demonstrates that our classrooms have become microcosms of our fractured communities. We must actively mentor young boys before these behaviours ossify.

The scourge of gender-based violence and femicide does not need empty solidarity on social media or performative public outcries. It demands that we actively speak out within our own echo chambers of privilege. The onus cannot remain on the victims and potential targets to solve an epidemic they actively fear and suffer under.

Violence cannot remain our status quo. We can no longer tolerate business as usual while the country bleeds and those entrusted with our protection sit idly on the policy and budgetary sidelines. If left unchallenged, our 13th language will ultimately guarantee our failure as a nation. A country cannot reach its potential when its citizens are systematically killed, displaced or silenced into permanent fear. That is a reality too close to home, and one we cannot afford to let happen. DM