Around the world, wars are raging, and politicians are often powerless to stop the bloodshed. But amidst these global conflicts, there is another war, one that is fought daily and often goes unnoticed: the war against women and children, particularly within Black communities. The statistics are harrowing. Violence against Black women and children far exceeds that of any other demographic, and it is no longer something we can ignore.
A few years ago, I experienced this violence first-hand. My then three-year-old child and I were attacked by a mall security guard. What horrified me most about the incident wasn’t just the attack itself, but the reaction of those around us. Instead of stepping in to help or calling the police, passers-by stood by and recorded the incident on their phones. In a moment when we were most vulnerable, we were not only violated by the mall security guard but also by the apathy of those who witnessed our trauma. We survived, but the psychological scars remain, triggering painful memories whenever I’m reminded of the event.
Earlier this year, another incident almost cost me my life. I was nearly killed by an ‘inDrive’ driver over a fare dispute. The driver demanded more money than what I was expected to pay, and when I refused, he became violent. I was left to wonder why our men—Black men—are increasingly abusive and violent. What has happened to the community that was once a bastion of strength and support.
This violence isn’t limited to America. In South Africa, gender-based violence and rape are rampant. Every day, women wake up to the reality that they might not make it through the day unscathed. We, the South African women are exhausted by the endless discussions about these issues. We don’t want to talk anymore; we want action. Every life matters, and every human being deserves the right to live free from the threat of violence.
But the sad truth is, for many women, safety is a luxury they cannot afford. In my early twenties, I almost lost my life at the hands of my then-boyfriend, a British man. I was young, naive, and in love, but that love nearly cost me everything. To this day, I struggle with the notion that I should feel “lucky” to have survived. What happened shouldn’t have happened, period. It wasn’t a matter of luck; it was a matter of survival.
The violence against Black women and children is symptomatic of deeper societal issues. It’s not just about the individual acts of brutality; it’s about a system that allows these acts to happen without consequence. When the police, who are supposed to protect and serve, become the perpetrators of violence, it sends a chilling message to the rest of society. It says that Black lives are expendable, that women and children are collateral damage in a system that prioritizes power over people.
The brutality of police that has claimed the lives of so many Black men and women is not an isolated issue. It is deeply intertwined with the gender-based violence that plagues our communities. When the state is violent, it emboldens individuals to be violent. When society devalues Black lives, it also devalues the lives of Black women and children.
So, what can we do? How do we fight back against a system that seems designed to destroy us? The first step is to acknowledge the problem. We must confront the reality of gender-based violence, police brutality, and the devaluation of Black lives head-on. We can no longer afford to stand by and watch as our communities are torn apart by violence.
We need to demand more from our leaders, our institutions, and ourselves. It’s not enough to march in the streets or post on social media. We need concrete action—laws that protect women and children, accountability for those who commit acts of violence, and support systems for survivors.
Black lives matter. But for that statement to mean anything, we need to start treating Black lives—especially the lives of Black women and children—with the dignity and respect they deserve. The fight for justice is far from over, but it’s a fight we cannot afford to lose.
Sonya Massey’s story is not just her own; it is the story of countless women and children who live in fear every day. It is a call to action, a demand for change, and a reminder that until every life is safe, none of us can truly be free.
Editor’s note: This article references Sonya Massey, whose case gained national attention in July 2023 when she was fatally shot by a sheriff’s deputy in her Illinois home while calling for help during a mental health crisis. Her death sparked renewed calls for police reform and highlighted the vulnerability of Black women during encounters with law enforcement. As of early 2025, legislative efforts inspired by her case continue to advance reforms in mental health response protocols for law enforcement across multiple states.
