When protection becomes betrayal: Confronting the normalisation of child abuse in South Africa

South Africa is bleeding, and its children are the silent casualties. The horrors of child abuse; sexual violence, physical harm, murder, no longer shock the nation into lasting change. They  prompt marches, hashtags, and outrage, yet justice rarely follows with equal force. What does  

it say about us when the abuse and killing of children feels routine – and when the  perpetrators walk free or are shielded by societal bias? 

We saw this collective rupture during the Cwecwe case, when a seven-year-old survivor’s  story stopped the country in its tracks. Her trauma opened the floodgates. Adults, once  silenced children, started speaking out – revealing histories of abuse hushed by fear and the  conviction that they would not be believed. And they were right. Our justice system, our  communities, our biases – they have failed children far too long. 

Another child, 11-year-old Jayden-Lee, became the centre of community action. His mother  reported him missing. Neighbours filled the streets in urgent solidarity, rallying behind a  grieving voice. She blamed the police, the system, negligence. She refused to let investigators  search her flat – and that refusal was a red flag. 

It was later revealed that forensic evidence linked the crime scene to that very home: blood  stains on Jayden-Lee’s bed, his clothing, his schoolbag. His mother has since been arrested – charged with murder, obstruction of justice, and more. 

What cuts deeper is this: reports confirm that Jayden-Lee arrived at school hungry, bruised,  bearing evidence of prolonged abuse. His suffering preceded the public search. The clues  were there – quietly tucked into daily life, ignored or unseen. 

We must interrogate the role bias plays in how abuse cases are received. Some women wield  societal perceptions of vulnerability as a shield. This is not about vilifying women – it's about  holding all perpetrators accountable. Jayden-Lee's mother diverted suspicion to his father and  

grandfather, and because gender bias runs deep, society listened. She fit the narrative of the  helpless woman. They fit the narrative of the violent man. 

This isn’t an anomaly. Female-perpetrated abuse is often softened in public discourse.  Headlines downplay the harm. Mental health becomes the default explanation. But if these  same acts had been committed by a stepfather, would media coverage sound different?  Would the commentary be louder, harsher, more demanding? 

Justice loses integrity when perpetrators are shielded by identity politics. Feminism with  moral conviction must challenge all abuse – not just that which fits the prevailing narrative.  To centre women as eternal victims while erasing those harmed by women is to betray  victims twice: through violence and through silence. 

Just recently, seven-year-old Lolitha Kowa was found raped and murdered just six doors  down from her home in Khayelitsha, lured under the innocent pretext of fetching her shoes. A  police sniffer dog traced her to the house where she had last been seen playing, leading 

investigators to bloodied evidence that confirmed the horror. Two suspects, Odwa Jack and  Nokuthula Matyenisi, were arrested, and the community’s anguish poured into protests  outside the Khayelitsha Magistrate’s Court. But as her name joins a growing list of children  brutalised and betrayed, South Africans are left asking: will Lolitha’s death bring real  convictions and systemic change – or will it be swallowed by silence, buried beneath the next  tragedy? 

We must ask: where is the justice for children still living with the trauma of rape – unsure if  tomorrow brings healing or another blow? As Pumla Gqola writes in Rape: A South African  Nightmare, rape is a language. A declaration. It says your body is not yours. 

Let us speak back. Let us rewrite this language – through collective accountability, policy  overhaul, and social interrogation. Harm has no single face. If we keep defending perpetrators  based on identity, more children will suffer in silence. 

It’s time South Africa opened both eyes. The latest statistics confront us with a brutal truth:  child abuse in South Africa is rising, not retreating. In the 2024–2025 financial year, 26 852  cases of child abuse and neglect were formally reported – a staggering increase from 23 732  the year prior. These are not just numbers. They are fractured childhoods, systemic failures,  and stories waiting to be heard. 

Of these cases, 9 859 involved sexual abuse, while another 9 485 represented deliberate neglect. Physical abuse accounted for 3 965 cases, and 595 children were abandoned. Behind  each figure is a home, a school, a neighbourhood where someone looked away – or worse,  enabled the harm. 

Psychologically, the toll is devastating. According to UNICEF South Africa, 58% of children  aged 5 to 16 have endured direct sexual abuse, and 52% were indirectly affected, forced into  silence or retraumatised by flawed responses. One in four children experiences violence in  their home, and nearly 18% face physical abuse, with 13% suffering emotional harm and  12% neglected entirely. This means more than half of South Africa’s children carry trauma  before reaching adulthood. 

Cases like Jayden-Lee Meek, Joslin Smith, and Cwecwe became lightning rods for public  grief, but also mirrors reflecting national denial. We mourn loudest when a child becomes  newsworthy – but justice demands that we protect them before tragedy strikes. 

Dr Shaheda Omar, Clinical Director of the Teddy Bear Clinic, reminds us: “Secondary  victimisation is so widespread, with a landscape of injustices perpetrated against children.”  She affirms what we know in our bones - that most harm is not inflicted by strangers but by  familiar hands, disguised as love. 

Legal scholar Lloyd Lotz has called out systemic bias in abuse cases, especially when  survivors are marginalised by gender, sexuality, or race. His writing challenges magistrates  and police to undergo specialised training and confront their own prejudices before entering  courtrooms.

*Mmabatho Makotanyane is a Journalist, Women Empowerment Activist, and Gender and Sexuality Studies student committed to survivor-centred storytelling and ethical reporting.