MVUME NDIMBA
Abuse doesn’t always look the way we expect. It can happen anywhere, to anyone, and those who witness it have a responsibility to act. This piece reflects on three real situations close to me and the urgent need to intervene before it’s too late.
DISCLAIMER:
This isn’t an attempt to mansplain abuse—it’s a reflection prompted by the sobering truth that perpetrators don’t fit one look, age, or background. Abuse can happen anywhere, and it is our responsibility to act, because those who hurt others will re-offend. When they do, there is no guarantee their next victim will be someone who can protect themselves.
I was talking with a friend recently, who had been physically abused by a romantic partner.
We spoke about how it impacted them, the shock they experienced when it happened and how they really couldn’t do anything besides take the abuse because their fight or flight response chose to freeze.
In a country like South Africa where gender-based violence is so prevalent, it’s safe to say that we all have stories of abuse that we witnessed or experienced in our lives. But the thing that made this story so powerful to me is the fact that the victim in this situation is 1.85m tall and weighs a solid 110kg. The assailant was his girlfriend who stood at 1.6m and I’m not in the business of discussing a lady’s weight, and he isn’t alone.
I’ve personally been physically assaulted by previous romantic partners myself, sometimes because of something I did, sometimes because of their own insecurities and personal problems, but it’s happened to me at least 5 times and hearing my friend bravely share his experience made me realise that this is far more common than I thought.
I’ll share one story of me being hit, it happened a few years ago while I was driving her home. She started talking to me and telling me a story about a family friend of hers, a woman I was familiar with and that I liked. Me being the person that I am, I heard her use words like “strong, independent etc.” and i started laughing because those words brought on a mental image of an advert and hearing a real person being described using these buzz-word type adjectives was funny to me.. so I laughed, HUGE mistake.
In the middle of me apologising for laughing and explaining the reason why I found this funny I was greeted by a sudden and swift fist to the side of the head (we’re driving mind you, and there are children in the car) that first strike was followed up by a second and a third and when she realised that I wasn’t actually being hurt by these punches, she turned her attention to the car.
“Stop the car!” she demanded as we sped down William Moffat, “stop the car, or i’m getting out here!”
She opened the passenger side door and started to gesture toward exiting the moving vehicle.
I gently spoke to her and said I was already taking her home, there was no need for all this, we were going back anyway.
She was hearing none of it. “Stop the f*cking car!” she screamed as her punches shifted from my face to the car, hitting the dashboard with all her strength and breaking the radio panel in the car.
I took the next turn right and stopped near a car dealership in Fairview. We sat there in silence for a second as I waited for her to exit. I looked over at her and asked, “are you sure you want to walk? I’m already taking you back.”
To which she replied, “Just take me home.” This wasn’t the first time I’d been assaulted by her or any other woman for that matter, and not the last either, but that particular moment stood out in my mind so much. I wondered if she had actually jumped out of the car and hurt herself but survived. What would she have told the police? Would anyone actually believe the truth or would I be seen as a monster who pushed a woman out of a moving car?
What would’ve happened if she hit me hard enough to knock me out, and I had lost control of the vehicle, what would’ve happened to the kids who were in the car with us? What would I say to her parents, to the kid’s parent’s, to my own?
I realised that my entire life would’ve been over if one thing went wrong during this ordeal… if I had reacted more violently, or raised my voice to this woman, my life would’ve been essentially over then and there (i look horrible in orange).
This discussion with my friend re-awakened this memory and made me ask myself what would’ve happened if it were the other way around and I was hitting this woman in the side of the head while she drove. Would she still speak to me? Would she still be telling me she missed me? Would she still be wanting to see me? I doubt I’d still have my freedom at all.
And then another thought came to mind… I have so many stories of women putting their hands on me, my homeboy has stories of women putting their hands on him, I have another friend who now lives overseas who had a girlfriend who would get drunk and beat him up too, so many men just like me and my friends can tell you multiple stories of when a woman assaulted them, but have never done the same to a woman, because we’re not pieces of shit. And funny enough, when i asked these fellas how the woman responded when they confronted her about the behaviour, the response was either “I never brought it up to her” or “She said it’s not abuse, I’m the man in the situation.” or in my case, laughter followed by being called “sassy”. No apologies, no flowers, no love-bombing, just hands and vibes.
This is not a redpill, manosphere take-down of women, this is a sobering realisation that although men are by far the biggest perpetrators of domestic abuse and by far more violent and physically imposing than women are, I have no doubt in my mind that the three of us (one black, one white and one coloured) would all have been worse for ware if the women who assaulted us were as strong as we are, I have no doubt in my mind that if either one of us hit back after being hit, we’d have gone to jail that same evening. And I happen to know for a fact that all these women had the police called on them zero times.
Not a single one of us went to social media to expose these women and the fact that I am being extremely vague about the identities of these women and the other two men who were victims like myself, proves that we never will expose them.
And I think that’s the whole point of the story I’m telling you guys. Abusers come in all shapes, sizes, colours and genders and it is our responsibility to do something to stop them, because they will re-offend, and when they re-offend there is no guarantee they will do so with men like us, who don’t hit women, who will never under any circumstance allow themselves to assault a person that is weaker than us.
In a country that is plagued by gender-based violence, femicide and matricide, my immediate circle of influence has at least 3 stories of abuse happening and we did nothing to stop it, even though we were the victim in question, we did nothing to stop them.
I worry for all three of those women, I worry that one day I’ll read about my friend’s ex, or even my own and have to learn through the news that she did that to the wrong man and now I need to get ready to say goodbye forever to a woman I really care for, deeply.
Please, this story is about 3 specific people and 3 specific women, this is not an “all women” situation because for every woman who’s abused her man, there are 5 would never dream of doing that, but it’s worth bringing up because I know far too many men who have stories about being hit by a woman while they have never hit a woman themselves.
Closing:
This story is about three specific women and three specific men, not “all women” or “all men.” If you or someone you know is a victim, contact the Gender-Based Violence Command Centre on 0800 428 428. And to men experiencing abuse: don’t let stigma stop you from speaking up—you could be saving a life. Take care of each other and stay safe.
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