Quit relationships at the first sign of violence, dear women

Omondi Ochuka once wrote, “I stopped seeking restoration and began to learn the healing of the remaining margins.”

There is something painfully fitting about these words as we confront the growing reality of femicide and Gender-Based Violence (GBV) within intimate spaces. Of victims who pay with their lives for not cutting loose and letting go soon enough.

Hope, I am tempted to think, is sometimes dangerous. The kind of hope that asks women to endure, to overlook, to ignore counsel, to try again for the promise of what could be. The kind of hope that keeps one rooted in spaces that are clearly unsafe.

In recent weeks, we have lost women to men they knew and trusted. Anita Mugure, 29. Rose Apondi, 21. Jackline Awour, 30. Faith Nyaga, 43. They aren’t random data in some reports. They are lives forever lost.

Over the weekend, a social media conversation led by a popular male writer laid bare just how deep the disconnect runs. As much as he tried to steer the conversation, calling out the excuses offered for these killings, it was clear where the majority stood. One man argued that such violence is the result of men being neglected by the system for far too long. He intimated that for most men, going to jail for killing their partners is not punishment but relief from a society stacked against them.

These are not fringe views shared in private. They are opinions shared confidently on a very public forum. And that says one thing; we haven’t seen the last of femicide. No number of campaigns will fix this if perpetrators continue to see themselves as victims.

So today, I am speaking directly to women.

Sis, you owe no one, not even yourself, a relationship.

We come from a society where singlehood was treated as failure and marriage as the height of social success. Women were raised to hold families together at all cost, to absorb pain quietly, to keep fixing what others break. The burden of keeping the family unit intact has always fallen disproportionately on us. And so, we stay. For the children. For society. But maybe it is time to normalise leaving for the children and yes, for yourself.

At worst, they will call you a woman who failed at marriage but at best, you will be alive. Alive to raise your children. Alive to rebuild.

Our system, the one we are told to rely on, the very system perpetrators claim is against them, has repeatedly failed women. We have seen instances where threats were reported countless times, only for the system to finally show up to carry a body out of a home. There are families still crying out for justice years after losing their daughters to femicide. So yes, trust the system, but trust your instinct even more. At the first sign of violence, the first hint of it, leave. Believe me, your parents would rather welcome you back home, alive, to start again than receive you in a coffin.

And yes, we do acknowledge that sometimes, even leaving does not guarantee safety. There are those who will hunt you down and try to harm you for leaving. Still, try. Do not serve yourself on a silver platter to someone who is at war with themselves.

While at it, banish the thought that you can change them, heal them or love them into becoming better. You cannot.

We have been sold the idea that complicated love is better than none. That struggle is proof of commitment. The opposite is true. You can thrive outside of chaos. You can build a meaningful life on your own as you wait for the right partner, one who embodies love, safety and wholeness.

We will continue to shine a light on the tragedy that is intimate partner femicide. This column, for as long as it exists, will always confront it. But even as we speak, even as we demand accountability, please protect yourself. You owe it to yourself.

Walk away from danger, especially the kind that disguises itself as love.

Ask for help. Reach out. Call 1919 for free counselling and support.

We do not need to lose you.

-Ms Wekesa is a development communication consultant