Kershen Pillay
There is a moment after every horrific act of violence against women when South Africa seems to stop. We grieve. We condemn. We ask how this could have happened. Social media fills with anger. Leaders promise action. Communities mourn. And then, slowly, life resumes. But for the families of the women whose lives have been taken, there is no returning to normal. The recent killings of women in Ekurhuleni in Gauteng have once again forced us to confront an unbearable reality.
On 20 September 2026, the Inter-Ministerial Committee on Gender-Based Violence and Femicide said the bodies of nine women had been discovered in Ekurhuleni. The government subsequently announced an emergency strategy encompassing prevention and social cohesion, law enforcement and justice, and victim- and survivor-centred support. My most important question now is not simply whether we are outraged; it is what happens after the outrage. We cannot teach women to avoid violence forever. My problem is that for generations, the burden of personal safety has disproportionately been placed on women. We tell them to be careful; don’t walk alone, share your location, watch what you wear, watch your drink, and don’t stay out too late.
There may be practical reasons for exercising caution in an unsafe environment, but we must recognise the deeper injustice of a society in which women are continually required to reorganise their lives around the possibility of violence. Indeed, Parliament’s Oversight Committee on the Presidency has made this point precisely in responding to the Ekurhuleni killings: responsibility for safety cannot simply be shifted onto women by telling them to be more vigilant or restrict their movements. I believe we need to ask a different question. What are we teaching the people capable of perpetrating violence? That is where education becomes profoundly important.
Higher education must educate beyond the qualification
At GIFS, we believe education must ultimately contribute to the society we want to build. Institutions of higher learning prepare young people to become professionals, entrepreneurs and leaders. But education cannot only be about employability.
It must also be about humanity. A graduate may leave an institution knowing how to construct an argument, manage a business or lead a team. But what have we taught that graduate about dignity? Respect? Accountability? Power? Conflict? The equality of women? These cannot be conversations reserved for Women’s Month or the annual 16 Days of Activism campaign. They belong in the everyday culture of our institutions.
This also means bringing young men deliberately into the conversation. GBV cannot remain something discussed primarily by women, about what happens to women. Men must be participants in changing the attitudes, behaviours and social norms that allow violence against women to persist. The purpose is not to label young men as perpetrators. It is to recognise them as potentially powerful agents of change.
Media has a responsibility too
Another uncomfortable question is worth confronting. How do we tell these stories? We need to remember that behind every headline was a person. The government’s warning against circulating unverified allegations, graphic images, and victims’ personal information is particularly significant. Such sharing can further traumatise families, spread fear and potentially compromise investigations.
For emerging journalists, communicators, content creators and media practitioners, this presents an important ethical responsibility. Tell the story, certainly. I’m all for investigating failures, asking the difficult questions, and holding institutions accountable. However, we can never allow the pursuit of attention to erase human dignity. We should also resist allowing the frequency of these stories to make them ordinary. When another murdered woman becomes simply another headline, we have lost something important in ourselves.
Outrage is an emotion. Change is a commitment.
South Africa does not suffer from a shortage of outrage about GBV. What we need is the ability to turn outrage into sustained cultural change. Government has identified prevention and rebuilding social cohesion as part of its emergency response to the Ekurhuleni killings. That work cannot belong to government alone. It belongs in all our homes, in our communities, in lecture halls, student residences, workplaces and newsrooms. It belongs in conversations between friends when somebody makes a degrading remark, and everyone else laughs. And it belongs with those of us entrusted with educating the next generation.
Perhaps the measure of a successful education system should be not only the qualifications we award or the careers we help create. It should also be the kind of human beings we send into the world. The women we have lost deserve more than another moment of national outrage. They deserve a country determined to make sure fewer families ever have to experience that loss again. And that requires all of us to move beyond outrage. It requires us to change what comes next. And that change starts with each of us.
Dr Kershen Pillay, CEO of GIFS
©Higher Education News Services.