Eight women. Eight bodies. Roughly two months.
That is enough to make any decent human being stop and ask: What is happening to us?
From Kempton Park to Olifantsfontein and Kwa-Thema, women have been found dead, their bodies abandoned in places where nobody should have to fear being dumped, forgotten or never found.
Police investigations are under way. Rewards have been offered. Senior police officers have been deployed. Politicians have expressed their horror. And rightly so. But I am tired of politicians being shocked. I am tired of the statements. I am tired of the microphones, the solemn faces, the carefully prepared words about “deep concern” and “senseless violence”. We know it is senseless. We know it is horrific. We know families are grieving.
The question is: What are those in power actually going to do about it? A politician is not an ordinary citizen watching these events unfold from the sidelines. A politician is part of the machinery of the state. Government controls budgets, makes laws, deploys resources and sets priorities.
So when women are repeatedly murdered, abducted or dumped like rubbish, political leaders cannot simply behave as though they have just discovered the problem along with the rest of us. Their job is not only to mourn the dead. Their job is to help prevent the next death.
Where is the money going?
Gauteng is not without resources.
The provincial government says it has installed hundreds of CCTV cameras as part of its crime-prevention strategy. More than R124 million has been spent on the CCTV project, according to figures presented in the provincial legislature. There has been a dispute over how many cameras are operational, with opposition parties raising concerns about cameras that were not functioning. The provincial government says corrective measures have been taken.
The Gauteng Community Safety budget has also run into billions of rand, funding various crime-prevention initiatives, including the crime prevention wardens, technology and other interventions.
Nobody is saying that CCTV cameras, helicopters, panic buttons or crime-prevention wardens are useless. They are not. But we should stop pretending that technology alone is going to make our communities safe.
A camera cannot fix a broken streetlight. A helicopter cannot clean an overgrown field. A panic button cannot repair a dangerous road. And a shiny new crime-prevention programme means very little to a woman walking home in the dark if there is nobody nearby to respond when she screams for help.
We need to ask a very simple question: Are all this money and all these interventions actually making ordinary people safer? If the answer is yes, show us the evidence. If the answer is no, tell us why. That is what accountability means.
Safety starts with the street
Sometimes we make crime prevention unnecessarily complicated. Look around our communities. There are streets without proper lighting. There are abandoned buildings. There are open fields covered in rubbish and waist-high grass. There are roads that are poorly maintained. There are places where people know they should not walk alone after dark.
These are not simply municipal problems. They are public-safety problems. A municipality that cannot keep streetlights working is creating an environment in which criminals can operate more easily.
A municipality that allows abandoned properties and overgrown land to become dumping grounds is creating places where people can disappear. This is where Crime Prevention Through Environmental Design matters. The idea is not complicated: make public spaces visible, occupied, maintained and difficult to use for criminal purposes.
Fix the lights. Cut the grass. Clean the parks. Deal with abandoned buildings. Maintain roads. Make taxi ranks and transport areas safer. Enforce municipal by-laws. Respond to emergencies. Work with residents and neighbourhood watches.
These things may not make spectacular television. There is no ribbon-cutting ceremony for repairing ten streetlights. But sometimes the unglamorous work of government is precisely what keeps people alive.
We must also talk about men
There is another conversation we have been avoiding for far too long.
Why are so many men killing women? We can talk about poverty. We can talk about drugs. We can talk about unemployment. We can talk about policing and dysfunctional institutions. All of these matter. But none of them should become an excuse for men who choose to rape, abuse, abduct or murder women. We also need to look honestly at the messages boys receive as they grow up. Too often, masculinity is confused with control. A man must be “the boss”. A woman must submit. A man must never be challenged. A woman must know her place. These ideas become dangerous when they are used to justify violence. And sometimes culture is dragged into the argument. Sometimes religion is dragged into it too.
We cannot allow African culture to become a convenient excuse for male entitlement. Nor can we allow Christianity to be twisted into a theology of female submission and male domination. Yes, Scripture speaks about husbands and wives. But no Christian teaching gives a man permission to abuse, humiliate, rape or kill a woman. If our interpretation of religion leaves women less safe, then we need to examine our interpretation. The same applies to culture. Our traditions should help us protect life, build community and teach responsibility. They should not be used as shields behind which abusive men hide.
And then there is the old question we keep asking women:
What were you wearing?
Why were you there?
Why did you walk alone?
Why did you trust him?
Why did you not leave?
Perhaps we should ask men different questions.
Why did you do it?
Why did you believe you had the right to another person’s body?
Why did you think violence was an acceptable response?
Why did you believe that her life was worth less than your anger?
Those are questions worth asking.
The state cannot hide behind security.
There is something else that troubles me. South Africa has become a country where those with money and political influence can surround themselves with layers of protection.
Blue lights. Security vehicles. Bodyguards. Gates. Walls. Private security.
Meanwhile, ordinary people are left to navigate dangerous streets, unreliable public transport, poorly lit neighbourhoods and places where emergency assistance may be minutes—or much longer—away. I am not suggesting that politicians should be deliberately placed in danger. Of course not.
But there is a moral danger when those who make decisions about public safety become so insulated from ordinary people’s daily experience that they no longer understand what insecurity feels like.
A woman walking home at night does not have a security detail.
A domestic worker travelling before sunrise does not have an escort.
A young student waiting for transport does not have a convoy.
A grandmother going to the shop does not have blue lights clearing the road.
That is the South Africa we need to govern. Not the South Africa behind gates.
What does government owe us?
This is where Catholic Social Teaching has something important to say. Government exists for the common good. Public authority is not supposed to become an end in itself. Political office is not a personal possession. Public money is not the property of those who happen to control it.
The principle is actually very simple: Power exists to serve people.
Pope Leo XIII made this point more than a century ago in Rerum Novarum. The Church’s social teaching has continued to develop around human dignity, solidarity, justice and the common good. Pope Francis repeatedly warned against what he called the “globalisation of indifference”—a situation in which suffering becomes something we see, comment on and then move on from.
That warning remains painfully relevant. We see another body. We condemn it. We express shock. We move on. Until there is another body. And another. And another.
At some point, words become cheap. What matters is what happens after the press conference.
Pope Leo XIV’s papacy is defined by a profound, prophetic call to systemic justice, rooted in his landmark apostolic exhortation, Dilexi Te (“I Have Loved You”). Moving beyond simple charity, he has challenged the global community to confront the structural roots of poverty and dismantle the “culture of possession” that drives violence against women and the vulnerable. With a pastoral heart, he firmly reminds civil leaders that their highest duty is to protect the marginalised—not by criminalising poverty, but by guaranteeing basic human dignity, economic independence, and safety for all. Ultimately, Pope Leo XIV envisions a Church and a world where the poor are not merely passive recipients of aid, but active, dignified agents of hope and social renewal
The election must be about more than posters
Local government elections are approaching. Soon our streets will be filled with political posters. Candidates will knock on doors. Parties will make promises. There will be rallies, songs, speeches and photographs. Fine. But voters should ask harder questions:
Who is going to fix the streetlights?
Who will clean the abandoned spaces?
Who will make public transport safer?
Who will deal with illegal dumping?
Who will work with communities to identify dangerous areas?
Who will ensure that municipal law enforcement actually works?
Who will coordinate with SAPS?
Who will take GBVF seriously after the election, not only during it?
And perhaps the most important question: How will you prove that your plan is working?
We should not be impressed simply because someone speaks passionately about crime. We have heard enough speeches. We need results. The women of Ekurhuleni do not need another politician standing in front of a camera telling us how shocked they are.
Their families need justice. Women need to feel safe. Communities need functioning streets, transport systems and public spaces. Police need the resources and capacity to investigate. Municipalities need to do the basic things properly. Men need to confront the culture of violence among men. Religious and traditional leaders need to stop protecting institutions and reputations at the expense of victims. And politicians need to remember why they are in office.
These women were not statistics. They had names. They had families. They had plans. They had people who loved them. They had lives.
When a society becomes accustomed to bodies being discovered in fields, rivers and abandoned places, something inside that society has gone terribly wrong. We cannot keep mourning women after they are dead while doing too little to protect them while they are alive.
Government must do better. Communities must do better. Men must do better. Churches must do better. And politicians must stop confusing public relations with public safety.
I do not trust politicians.
Why should you?
- The Piling Bodies in Ekurhuleni: Examination of Conscience - September 16, 2026
- Fr Wiseman Sihawu April Nkomo, Rest in Peace - June 15, 2026
- CWA Workshop Equips Women to Lead with Faith and Hope - May 8, 2026
