Let Olorato’s name not be in vain

SA mourns the loss of a sister, Olorato Mongale, senselessly and savagely slain. Her name now echoes across a country familiar with tragedy and too familiar with the violent erasure of its women.

Olorato will be remembered not only for the cruelty of her death but for the courage and spirit that defined her life. Her fierceness. Her tenacity. Her refusal to look away from the crisis confronting South African women. Rest in eternal power and strength, ntombi. We will always remember you.

As a nation, we are shaken as we were when we heard of Uyinene. Of Karabo. Of Tshegofatso. Anene. Jayde. And now Olorato. Names that carry the weight of grief. Names that should never have become hashtags.

We must confront a difficult truth: SA is in crisis. A deep, festering crisis that cuts through gender, age, class and race. We are engulfed in a pandemic of violence and widespread antisocial behaviour. We live in a country where brutality has become ordinary, where impunity grows like a weed in the cracks of a failing system and where indignity is something people are expected to tolerate – or survive.

When I speak of antisocial behaviour in this context, I am referring to actions, attitudes and silences that do not serve the collective well-being of society. It includes turning a blind eye to abuse, protecting perpetrators, trivialising harm and disengaging from civic responsibility. It’s a culture of indifference that chips away at our shared humanity.

A prosocial society, in contrast, looks after all its citizens – it does not make safety a privilege. It insists that all crimes be reported, all abuse be named and all harm be interrupted. It embodies a good old-fashioned principle: see something, say something.

Too often, when national tragedies like this occur, we point fingers in blame – sometimes at the government, sometimes at culture, and too often, at each other. But in moments of collective pain, we must pause and reflect: we are all in crisis. All of us.

We speak of women as victims – and rightly so – but we must also acknowledge that men are in crisis too. Men are not only perpetrators but are often victims of other men, trapped in cycles of violence, suppression, and silence. Many are socialised into toxic masculinities, alienated from healing and taught to fear vulnerability. 

The truth is: we rely on men and women who are exhausted by lawlessness, to pick up the pieces of a broken society. Community leaders, activists, neighbours, parents, teachers, artists and everyday people. They become the front lines of hope. But they are weary.

We are in crisis. But within crisis lies an opportunity – to reimagine, to repair, to resist and to rebuild.

Let Olorato’s name not be in vain. Let her memory – and the memories of every woman stolen from us – push us towards a society that refuses to normalise harm. A society that chooses justice. A society that chooses life.

Let us, finally, choose each other.