There is a question people often ask after hearing about another tragedy involving a woman and her children: ‘‘Why didn’t she just leave?’’ It is a question that sounds simple, but anyone who has lived through abuse knows there is nothing simple about walking away from someone who has slowly stripped away your confidence, isolated you from your support system and convinced you that you deserve the pain you endure.
Leaving an abusive relationship is one of the hardest decisions a person can make. It is not just about packing a bag and finding another place to sleep. It is about untangling years of manipulation, fear, financial dependence, emotional attachment and the hope that maybe this time things will change. Many survivors do not stay because they enjoy the abuse. They stay because they have been conditioned to believe they have no other choice.
The first few months after leaving are often the hardest. There is grief for the relationship you wished you had. There is uncertainty about money, housing, and raising children alone. There may be guilt, shame and even pressure from family or friends to return. For many women, there is also the terrifying reality that leaving is the period when an abusive partner may become even more dangerous.
Yet despite these challenges, leaving can also become the beginning of a life that finally belongs to you. Every day away from abuse is another opportunity to rediscover your voice, rebuild your confidence and show your children that love should never hurt. Healing is not immediate. Some wounds remain long after bruises disappear. But healing is possible when you are no longer surviving in constant fear.
Recent tragedies remind us why recognising abuse early is so important. The heartbreaking case of the woman who allegedly doused her baby with paraffin before setting the child and herself alight left the nation horrified. Miraculously, both survived, but they will carry physical and emotional scars for years to come.
Then there was the devastating story from Moneni, where a mother allegedly poisoned her two children.
These are stories that leave communities searching for answers.
While every case has its own circumstances and no one should excuse acts of violence against children, we must ask ourselves harder questions about what happens when abuse, coercion, neglect, untreated trauma and hopelessness are allowed to fester behind closed doors. Too often, warning signs are ignored until lives are shattered forever.
Abuse does not always begin with a slap. It often starts with insults disguised as jokes. It begins with controlling what you wear, who you speak to or where you go. It starts with making you feel guilty for wanting independence. It grows into financial control, emotional manipulation, threats, intimidation and eventually physical violence. By the time many women recognise the danger, they have already lost much of the confidence needed to leave.
This is why we must stop romanticising endurance. Too many women are praised for ‘standing by their men’ while silently carrying unbearable burdens. Strength is not measured by how much pain you can tolerate. Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is walk away before the abuse escalates further.
Leaving early can save lives. It can protect your mental health. It can spare your children from growing up believing violence is normal. Children who witness abuse may carry those experiences into adulthood, affecting their own relationships and emotional well-being. Breaking that cycle is one of the greatest gifts a parent can give.
If you recognise the early signs of abuse or neglect, do not wait for a dramatic incident to convince yourself that things have become serious enough. Trust your instincts. Speak to someone you trust. Reach out to family, community organisations, faith leaders, social workers or support services. Build a safety plan.
Document incidents where it is safe to do so. Most importantly, know that asking for help is not a sign of failure.
To those who have already left, I know the road ahead may feel lonely. There will be nights when you question your decision. There will be moments when you miss the person you hoped they would become rather than the person they repeatedly showed themselves to be. Hold on. The peace that comes from living without fear is worth every difficult step.
And to those who are still deciding, hear this clearly: You deserve to be safe. Your children deserve to grow up in a home where love is not confused with control, fear or violence. You do not have to wait until someone is seriously injured, until another police report is filed or until another tragedy makes the headlines.
Leaving may be the hardest decision you ever make. But it may also be the decision that saves your life, protects your children and gives your family the chance to heal instead of merely survive.
