Paint it black and spare lives

Ionce heard a tale that during one of the wars, the English were asked to paint their roofs black to confuse the airstrikes of the enemy at night. Not one resident didn’t heed the call as they all knew a red roof made a perfect target. It was a collective effort to stay alive…

We need to heed that call with gender-based violence.

The advocate for women’s rights in me is asking about the safety as women in isolation. I’m asking because of the untold stories of abuse behind closed doors.

Today, we wear black in solidarity with the lives lost to gender-based violence, the second pandemic faced by women globally. While paperwork is drawn up and legislation is punted in our face, women continue to die; they are raped – forever scarred by hands that may sanitise but kill...

The government campaign is beautiful on paper, of no consequence in the halls of justice and in police stations – nothing more than window-dressing.

This is the same justice system that grants R1 000 bail to men who viciously rape even toddlers for their sexual satisfaction. But just like clockwork, come 25 November every year – we must reject and report abusers: act and don’t look away, our government says…

The government speaks of challenging and denouncing cultural practices that perpetuate gender inequalities – the same government that on a daily basis is the mirror of gender inequality…

There must be more than the window-dressing before we can show and tell.

When government officials are repeatedly accused of heinous acts of sexual harassment, the pot is calling the kettle black – and it’s at the expense of my gender.

We participate because we hope for change, the sparing of our lives; we participate because we hope our voices outlast the fanfare.

But we see the campaign as nothing more than a facade that, if executed better or taken more seriously, could bring more stories out the woodwork.

Lives could be spared... So maybe it is up to us. Remember the black roofs?

Collectively, we must watch out for our neighbours. If you see a red roof – one where you know physical abuse happens behind that closed front door – shout out. You may just spare a life.