I held off on writing this blog when the news of Sibusiso Lawrence’s crime first broke. I had to take it in first. The sheer brutality of the act, coupled with the graphic descriptions that flooded my timeline, left me paralyzed. As a GBVF activist, these stories aren’t just headlines. They don’t pass through me like fleeting thoughts. They linger, they haunt, and they crush.
Lawrence murdered his partner, Nontobeko Cele, in cold blood. But his crime didn’t stop there. He had the audacity to record a video, calmly justifying why he ended her life, and shared it on social media as if looking for validation. And horrifyingly, he found it.
Some men even cheered him on, taking to social media to defend his actions, saying things like, “She must have pushed him to it.” And as if that wasn’t painful enough, some women joined in, blaming Nontobeko for her own murder. To those women: Every time you excuse male violence by saying “What did she do to provoke him?” or “She should’ve left sooner,” you betray other women. You betray survivors. And you excuse the violence that men choose to commit.
Being a woman in South Africa means living with the constant shadow of violence. It means realizing that the man who claims to love you might one day take your life. It means knowing that your safety is often in the hands of someone who could turn into your worst nightmare.
Let’s not mince words: South Africa is in a state of emergency when it comes to GBV and femicide. The laws are there—stricter than ever before—but the problem is implementation.
The National Strategic Plan on Gender-Based Violence and Femicide (NSP GBVF), launched with much fanfare, is meant to be a beacon of hope. Yet, how many cases like Nontobeko’s end up falling through the cracks? How many survivors are ignored at police stations, how many perpetrators roam free because of delays in the justice system?
These gaps in enforcement are costing lives.
To the men reading this: your silence is part of the problem.
When you see your friends disrespecting women, when you hear them making jokes about abuse, when you witness them controlling or belittling their partners—and you say nothing—you are complicit. You are enabling the same attitudes that led Lawrence to take Nontobeko’s life.
Help us identify the Sibusisos among you. Look around your circles, your WhatsApp groups, your Saturday braais. There are men in your life who are capable of the same horror Lawrence unleashed on Nontobeko. Their actions may not have escalated to murder, but the signs are there: It's in the way they talk about women, the way they treat their partners and the way they dismiss violence as "losing control."
Check them. Challenge them. Correct them. Because if you don’t, you are choosing to protect abusers over the women they will hurt.
To the women of South Africa: be cautious. The men justifying Lawrence’s actions, the ones who are saying, “She must have done something to deserve it”—they are dangerous. They see themselves in him, and their words reveal their true nature.
And let’s be clear: these men are not rare. They are in our communities, workplaces, and families. They are the men who blame women for the violence they endure, who say things like, “Women’s mouths get them killed.” They are the men who laugh when a woman cries for help.
South Africa has some of the strictest laws and policies against GBV on paper. But what good are these laws when they are not enforced? How many women like Nontobeko have walked into police stations for help, only to be turned away? How many perpetrators are out on bail because the system drags its feet?
The justice system must do more. It must enforce the laws with urgency, hold perpetrators accountable, and stop failing victims. Nontobeko deserved better. Women across South Africa deserve better.
Nontobeko Cele was a young woman with her whole life ahead of her. She deserved to live, to love, and to thrive. Instead, her life was stolen, and her final moments were filled with terror.
The aftermath of her death is heartbreaking. A family shattered. Friends devastated. A community in mourning. And a country grappling with yet another name added to the endless list of women who have been murdered by men who claimed to love them.
But we cannot let her story become just another tragedy.
South Africa desperately needs: Urgent implementation of existing laws against GBV and femicide. Improved support for survivors, including more shelters, counseling services, and legal aid. Accountability within the police force, ensuring every report of GBV is taken seriously. A cultural shift that stops blaming victims and starts holding perpetrators accountable.
I am tired. I am heartbroken. I am furious. And I know many of you feel the same. But we cannot afford to let fatigue or despair paralyze us.
Let Nontobeko’s death be the spark that ignites a wave of change in this country. Let it remind us that we are not powerless, that we can fight back against the epidemic of GBV, and that we owe it to every victim and survivor to keep going.
Once again, to the men who are reading this: this is another wake-up call. We need you to do better. We need you to speak up, step up, and stand with us. Women should not have to fight this battle alone.
Nontobeko deserved a life of joy and safety. Let us honor her memory by building a South Africa where no woman ever has to live in fear again.
To Nontobeko’s family, friends, and community: I send my deepest and most heartfelt condolences. I cannot begin to fathom the pain you are feeling.
#JusticeForNontobekoCele #StopGBVF #ProtectOurWomen
Image source: Creator: Sumaya Hisham | Credit: CNS photo/Sumaya Hisham, Reuters
