SA: Breaking the cycle of violence

16 December: I am a 28-year-old woman who grew up in rural areas of South Africa and witnessed the devastating effects of domestic and gender-based violence (GBV). I am writing this story as we transition from the Sixteen Days of Activism to the rest of the year with a personal plea: to break the cycle of violence.

Raised by my grandmother, who passed away in 2017, I saw my mother only once a month as she worked as a domestic worker. Things seemed to improve when she started working for a neighbour and came home nightly, but that’s when the darkness began.

In 2009, when I was 13, my mother fell in love with a man who turned out to be abusive, both physically and emotionally. We lived in a one-room house, and his presence made our lives unbearable. I vividly recall an incident in 2010 when I was in Grade 8. He wanted to stay the night, but I was the one who chased him away. As time passed, his abusive behaviour became a norm, and despite my grandmother living with us, no one addressed it.

In Grade 11, I moved in with my primary school teacher to attend a better school. My visits home on weekends were filled with sadness as the abuse continued. My mother’s boyfriend often beat her in front of my younger sister and me. In 2014, to protect my sister from this toxic environment, I moved us to her father’s house. Her family welcomed me as their own, though I never explained the real reason for our move.

Despite some peace, returning home after high school was heartbreaking. The abuse persisted even after we moved into a mud house my mother built. The thin walls meant I heard every argument and every act of violence. I asked my mother why she didn’t report him to the police, but she never answered.

When we received an RDP house, the abuse escalated. The boyfriend even broke down the door to assault my mother, yet my family remained silent. By then, I was in college, but the emotional toll of growing up in this environment was immense. I started confronting him physically to protect my mother, putting myself in danger.

One day, I overheard my mother saying he had killed someone before. Perhaps that’s why she stayed with him, out of fear. She supported him financially despite his unemployment, and he repaid her with violence. Desperate to make her choose between her family and him, I stole her bank card and left home. I gave her an ultimatum: “It’s me or him.” She chose him.

Eventually, I returned home, but I couldn’t stand the abuse any longer. With my aunts’ help, I burned his belongings and chased him away. It was a risky move, but I was determined to protect my family. Even after he left, my mother never stopped loving him. He would call her using different numbers until I took control of her phone, changed her number, and blocked him.

Growing up in this environment strained my relationship with my mother. She seemed to prioritize her boyfriend over her children, leaving me feeling unloved. Even today, our relationship remains fractured. The abuse I witnessed left deep scars on me. I never received counseling or support to process what I went through, and the trauma still lingers.

Living through this has shaped how I view relationships. I struggle with trust and love, often labeled a “control freak” by the men I’ve dated. My determination to avoid my mother’s fate has made it hard to open up and build healthy connections. I battle anger issues and have nightmares about the abuse to this day.

During the 16 Days of Activism against gender-based violence, I want to share my story to shed light on the silent damage GBV causes. It doesn’t just affect the victims; it also deeply impacts the children who witness it.

I’m now a single mother with a diploma, and I’ve built a stable life for my child. Recently, I ended a seven-year relationship because my fiancé slapped me. That was my breaking point. I refuse to tolerate abuse in any form.

To parents, I plead: protect your children. Show them love and prioritize their well-being. Don’t let your struggles rob them of their innocence and security. GBV has far-reaching consequences, but by standing together, we can break the cycle and create a safer world for future generations.

(Nokwethemba Mnomiya is a WOSSO Fellow)