Her name was Nokuzola. We were still kids when she decided to drop the child’s act and joined adulthood by marrying him. We were still surprised when we heard she was back home. Word is, he was beating her up every night, accusing her of cheating on him. But we were not concerned with that except that she was leaving her husband just a year in their marriage. In our minds back then, we thought women should be patient with men, even those who preferred a stick as their main form of communication

He took her up the mountains, that was romantic we thought, until days went by without a word from her. Parents started to panic, friends too and he was nowhere to be seen. Word is, he killed her because she chose someone else over him

He shot her right on the head as she was opening the gate, probably coming from work before turning the gun and pointed it to his head. No explanation was given, not even a note for those they left behind to understand the motive behind the whole thing

Those stories were rare at the time, but I think we waited for too long, until it was too late to act on them, to condemn them, to discourage those who were violating women because they were men so woman had nothing to say to them except obeying whatever they say.

We allowed our fellow brothers to do unspeakable things to our sisters because we trusted them as men in their homes. We trusted them with the lives and happiness of our sisters. Even when the signs of abuse were there, we simply turned a blind eye

Today it seems like the news of the day is not complete without a report of a missing woman, a woman who’s been killed, or a body of a woman that was discovered in a shallow grave somewhere. It seems like we can’t go a day without hearing about the death of a woman killed by us as men

I wonder how did we get here, to the point where we found it attractive to kill them instead of protecting and loving them. I wonder how do you even live with yourself knowing that you took the life of someone you once couldn’t have enough words to describe how you really feel about her

They beautify it, calling it “GBV”, I call it the slaughtering of our loved ones, because that’s what it is

I remember the days, when standing on the corner, watching them ladies pass by was a normal thing for boys in the hood. “Dudlu” we would say in admiration of their beauty, their nice bodies. She would turn and smile, then walk away. She didn’t have to worry that we might follow her into the bushes and force ourselves into her as that was just an innocent act, an appreciation to beautiful girls in the neighborhood

But that has since changed, brothers rape them for wearing mini skirts, the nice bodies we appreciated are now the reason they can’t walk freely on the streets. The reason they walk into post offices and come out in caskets
Sometimes you wonder your female friend is really alright when you check up on her, your sister who lives on the other side of town is really well when she says she is, your cousin is really happy when you put her on the call.
You wonder if your girl is really ok with you touching her, if she’s not scared, thinking about the day you'll take a bush cutter and chop her into pieces before you bury her for her family to never find her remains to at least say their painful goodbye. For her friends to recognize how beautiful she was, because you burned her into ashes

How do we even play pillow fights when we don’t know if they really enjoy that, they feel comfortable because pillow fights turn to be about who holds it firmly sometimes. How do we know that they enjoy it or it’s just an act to ease up to us, making sure they get through another day alive. How do we know they do what we ask out of love, not in fear of triggering our rotten tempers

I have a girlfriend, I love her so much. She's someone's daughter, someone’s sister, and someone’s best friend. We all want to see her walking down the streets freely, without the fear of being killed, but I can’t stop worrying that one day she might not come home with the rate that brothers kill our sisters with. I can’t stop worrying that someone might take her life for no reason, except trying to cover his tracks, trying to bury the evidence of what he did to her

I want to be able to say “No” without making her feel intimidated by that or even by the choice of words I chose to express that. I want her to feel alright to say she doesn’t without worrying about being killed for that when I tell her that I love her. I want her to feel free to say what's on her mind, to speak out and call me into order when I'm out of line without fearing for her life

I have sisters, please don’t take them away because you can’t get your way. They’re a little stubborn I know, if you can’t handle them, don’t approach them right from the beginning. They’re very sweet, talk so soft and that will attract you to them I’m sure, but that should never be the reason you take advantage of them. Control them, play them, and abuse them.
I have cousins too, they’re all beautiful, we all had plans when we were growing up, how we wanna be rich, change the world for the better, make a massive contribution to those in need. I’d love to see us realizing all of them, all those dreams. It would hurt to see them go in the hands of someone who decided to cut their lives short

I have so many friends, I can’t begin to describe how beautiful they are, I can’t begin to describe how mischievous they are too, but deep down they are good people, humble, full of love. I’d love to see them live their lives to realize the dreams that they occasionally share with me and other friends of theirs. It would hurt more than I can imagine having to stand on their coffins saying goodbye
I want them to welcome me in their homes as a friend, without considering that one day I might come back to take their lives as brothers seem to be doing that so well these days

Can we all stand up and recreate the beautiful world that was once a norm, where women lived without fear, where we were known as protectors in our homes. When we pulled a stick or any object to defend our homes from outsiders not to destroy it
Can we all go back to the world where it was cool for boys and girls to play together, when we played hide and sick without wondering what Sipho and Zinhle might be doing when they hide together. When we didn’t wonder if she would come out alive when they disappear for too long. When we didn’t wonder if we’ll see her alive when they start a silly argument in front of us

We started this mess, only you and I, the men of this world can fix it. Let’s learn to love them again as we did before we thought killing them was an option when we can’t control them, when we can’t get our way over them

Can we be human again, not trash they opted to call us because all the good words simple lost the meaning, their description doesn’t suit us. Can we reclaim our status, be the men to our households, not the animals who are ready to slaughter them women, but to protect them instead

It starts with you

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