Facing the monster: domestic and child abuse during lockdown

Pic (taken by me in the eastern Free State) provided entirely for its tranquillising qualities.

I really don’t want to have to write this. I’d rather share lockdown or “shelter at home” recipes, or needle the big banks about suspending bond and loan payments, or suggest 101 Ways To Interact With Your Cat While Home Alone. But an already hideous reality for hundreds and thousands of women and children and a few men is about to have the heat turned up to unbearable levels. Everyone who works with domestic violence and child abuse knows that a confined space, with no way to escape from an abuser who is barred from leaving the house for work, golf or the tavern, is a living nightmare. A lot of violent men will also have used the pre-lockdown period to stock up on booze.

There are children who are only truly safe from abuse and neglect during the hours they’re at schools or creches — and those have all been closed down. I’m not going to link the source because reading it distressed me so much, but in a small town in Texas experiencing school closures and partial lockdown, the local hospital treated more serious child abuse injuries in the first five days than they usually see in a month.

So what on earth can we do?

We should already have gotten in touch (not literally, but via social media and other networks like street committees — remember those, eighties activists?) with our neighbours, and hopefully identified those who might be vulnerable. Now is the time to keep your ears pricked. Get phone numbers for everyone in a potentially volatile household, including the landline. One of the most useful things you can give women and children at risk is airtime/data, so they can call or text when necessary.

Here are some options for intervention, although all need to be guided by context — plus you should never put yourself at risk. Ideally, the police (overwhelmed at the best of times) should be visiting all those with prior complaints against them to confiscate their weapons, but let’s get real.

Call those you fear for at least once a day. Be aware that they may not be able to speak freely, and that controlling partners may be monitoring their phones, so be circumspect in what you say. I know this is heterosexist, but women should call women: irrationally jealous men may be triggered if another man calls their partners. But please check in: text, WhatsApp, Facebook message, voice notes, email.

Remember that one hallmark of abuse is that victims often learn NOT to scream, fearful of escalating the situation: this is especially true of abused children, who often go numb and silent, disassociating from what’s being done to their bodies. So perhaps one thing you could do is tell vulnerable people that if they yell for help, you WILL respond.

If you hear screams or sounds of a disturbance, calling a landline, or phone number for someone in that home can provide a jolt of distraction. This is also grounds for leaning out a window or door and blowing a whistle, banging on a pot, or shouting REALLY loudly, “If this doesn’t stop, I’m calling the police!”

It would be wonderful if the police could respond appropriately and promptly to such reports, and cart the offenders off to spend a night in jail even the victim doesn’t press charges (which should not be the decision of a terrorised and dependent woman or child — a crime is a crime is a crime). This might give batterers pause. But I’m not holding my breath. (This is not intended as a criticism of the cops, who are going to be working harder in the next several weeks than ever before; just a reflection of the realities.)

If you hear sounds of mayhem, and you genuinely don’t know what to do, call one of the hotlines (numbers supplied below) and ask for guidance.

Encourage those at risk to join a Facebook support group (Tracy Going, author of Brutal Legacy, a memoir on surviving abuse, has a good one, “When Love Hurts”) or neighbourhood online group, or to call any of the hotlines or resource numbers below. If nothing else, they can ask for advice and break their sense of isolation. So you can see why airtime is so vital.

I’m writing this listening to the Minister for Social Services answering queries on gender-based violence and other forms of abuse, and it does sound like everyone on the ground — NPOs, municipalities and civic organisations — is scrambling to provide places of safety and respite, as well as overflow shelters. Here’s the number for the Command Centre on domestic violence and child abuse — 0800-428-428 — she says they will refer you to the most appropriate resource for your area, and that children in danger WILL be removed to places of safety. Dear Goddess, I hope her department can follow through on the promises she’s making, but there’s no doubting the seriousness of their intent.

With new temporary shelters being opened post-haste, this might be the moment some women and children make a dash for freedom — you have one day to act. If you know of someone who needs to leave their abuser tomorrow, provide whatever help you can that’s consistent with social distance — money is always a help.

Some more numbers, many of them taken from the excellent Dr Tlaleng’s Twitter feed (follow her @drtlaleng: apart from being a national treasure, she’s a constant source of useful info). Save and keep these.

Stop Gender Violence national toll-free helpline: 0800-150-150 for survivors and witnesses of gender-based violence, or use the Command Centre number above.

Rape Crisis Cape Town Trust: 021-447-9762 (Observatory); 021-633-9229 (Athlone); 021-361-9085 (Khayelitsha).

People Opposing Women Abuse (POWA)’s helpline is 076-694-5911; they have branches in Soweto (011-933-2333), Vosloorus (011-906-4259), Katlehong (011-905-2211) and Evaton (081-383-7698).

You can call the Saartjie Baartman Centre for Women and Children in Manenberg on 27 21 633 5287, and here’s their website: www.saartjiebaartmancentre.org.za.

You can report child abuse to the police via email:childprotect@saps.org.za

Lifeline counselling services (good as a one-stop resource, also if you’re distressed and need to talk) has a 24/7 counselling line: 0861 322 322

Suicide crisis line of the SA Depression and Anxiety Group: 0800 567 567 or SMS 31393 — because folk are going to get desperate.

And if you decide that now is a good time to face your addiction (which fuels so much intimate violence), here’s the national toll-free number for Alcoholics Anonymous: 0861-435-722. According to their website www.aasouthafrica.org.za, you can also chat to them online 24/7, or send an urgent email.

For families of alcoholics, there’s Al-Anon, with a special section – Alateen – for children of alcoholics. Their helpline: 0861 ALANON (25 26 66) or you can email them: help@alanon.org.za.

And the national 24-hour helpline for Narcotics Anonymous is: 083 900 MY NA (083 900 69 62).

This feels a bit like spitting in the face of a hurricane, given our stratospherically high rates of violence against women, children and those who don’t conform to gender/sexuality norms, exacerbated by huge social ills, including a singularly horrible and unjust history and a vast gap between rich and poor.

But I leave you with this comforting thought: we have the most incredible, agile, resourceful and hectically active NGOs/NPOs imaginable. The smaller they are, the bigger their punch, especially those rooted in the communities they serve. Trust me, they are all over this lockdown and the pandemic like a rash (poor joke, sorry), racing in tandem with government, businesses and civic organisations to respond to this crisis. They all need money, all the time, but never as much as now. Pick a few that support causes close to your heart, and donate: there are buttons that make it easy on almost all their websites.