South African Femicide Is Killing Young Black Women, But They Are Fighting Back

The nine women whose bodies have been found in Ekurhuleni, east of Johannesburg, since July, were mostly Black South African women from working-class townships—Kempton Park, KwaThema, Dawn Park—communities that have long absorbed the brunt of the country’s gender-based violence epidemic. 

According to the Washington Post, most of the victims were in their 20s and 30s, and several were found partially unclothed and bearing bruises; eight of the nine were sexually assaulted. Police have not ruled out the possibility of a serial killer. Yet, Black women are refusing to be defined only as victims. They are organizing, writing, marching, and reframing what an actual solution looks like.

Police near Kempton Park have urged women to avoid walking or running alone and to “remain vigilant.” The Guardian ran a first-person essay by Black South African writer Nolethu Ndude directly challenging that advice. 

“Women have informal safety systems built into our friendships,” she wrote, describing the checked-in Ubers, shared locations, and phone calls that had already structured women’s daily lives. Ndude’s point was that femicide—the most extreme form of gender violence—”does not begin when a body is discovered.” 

It instead develops along a continuum rooted in normalized misogyny, everyday sexism, and casual disrespect. Real prevention means demanding change from men, not restricting women’s movement.

That argument has found an outlet in the streets. 

NPR reports that Elizabeth Moselakgomo, 38, disappeared while on an afternoon run near Kempton Park on Sept. 9 and was later found dead—a killing that has become a rallying point for grief and organizing alike. Local running clubs across the country have staged memorial runs in her name, with participants dressed in black observing a minute of silence before setting off.

Vigils and protests have spread from Kempton Park to Cape Town, with women demanding the government treat prevention, not just policing after the fact, as the real priority. 

President Cyril Ramaphosa declared gender-based violence and femicide a national disaster in November 2025, and has promised that “no stone will be left unturned” in the Ekurhuleni investigations. 

But Black women’s advocacy groups say that rhetoric has consistently outpaced action. The Washington Post notes that South Africa’s femicide rate runs roughly five times the global average.

Rather than treating the Ekurhuleni killings as isolated crimes, Ndude’s Guardian essay pushes for something slower and more foundational: sustained education on consent, bodily autonomy, and what she calls “positive masculinity,” starting long before violence ever reaches police or the courts. 

Ndude also raised a pointed question about the system meant to protect survivors after the fact—whether police stations are equipped to act quickly when a woman is reported missing, and whether officers are trained to respond to survivors with care instead of suspicion. Separately, South Africa’s Commission for Gender Equality has called for an urgent safety audit of the affected areas.

Taken together, the response emerging from Ekurhuleni suggests Black South African women are not waiting on the state to define what safety means. And what that means to them is that accountability fall on the violence of men rather than on women’s freedom. 

SEE ALSO:

Reclaiming Our Safety From The Crisis Of Black Femicide

Is God Is Refuses To Look Away From Increasing Cases Of Black Femicide