We are tired of being told to be careful

My heart broke last Sunday when I woke up to news that four women’s bodies had been found in Ekurhuleni in the past two months.

As the number kept rising throughout the week, from four bodies, then six, then seven, eight, and nine, it dawned on me that yet another wave of femicide is washing over SA. The women in this country are once again gripped with fear, heartbreak, and panic.

As those numbers rose, I found myself sitting with several emotions at once. As a young student journalist in a newsroom, I spent the week watching my colleagues around me cover these scary stories.

I know that with each body found, it was breaking news, something that had to be reported because these women deserve to have their stories told.

But the stories felt heavy to tell, almost insensitive, because for the families who lost their daughters, sisters, aunts, and mothers, this is not just a story. It is a painful reality.

These women have lost their lives. They are not coming back. And watching the coverage, I kept thinking about how for every woman’s name that made it into the news, there were more who didn’t. Women like my own aunt.

These recent cases have all been in one area, Ekurhuleni, far from where I have a home and family, in Soweto. But I still feel fear and panic, because I think back to when I was a child, when my aunt lost her life at the hands of her partner.

The reality of a woman having her life cut short is not something removed from me. It never has been. It does not matter where these murders happen. The fear of losing your life is not far removed from any woman in SA, whether she is walking around in Soweto, Ekurhuleni, or Makhanda where I’m studying journalism.

I feel like my freedom as a young woman in SA is being taken away from me piece by piece, because every time a woman is murdered here, the parameters of where I can safely live my life as a woman seem to shrink a little further.

I share my live location with my friends and sisters every minute of the day, and I constantly check theirs, too. Like every woman in SA, I am tired of being told to avoid secluded places, to walk in groups, and to avoid walking at night.

When authorities “urge” us to avoid walking after dark, it feels like a curfew, like I am being told to finish my business and get home, lock my door before the sun goes down, before the streetlights − that rarely even work − come on.

Women are doing everything right. We take every precaution seriously. We are tired of being told to be careful. Being careful is already the state South African women live in every day.