The Unchecked Violence Against Women Across East Africa

But this is just one high-profile case among others, involving both prominent figures and everyday women across the country and continent, who continue to suffer abuse, assault, attempted murder, and murder at the hands of men. In 2022, Africa saw the highest number of women killed by intimate partners or family members, with 20,000 of the 48,000 global cases of this kind of death occurring here.

In August, the case of Heaven Awotresurfaced from a year ago and sent shockwaves through Ethiopia and other African nations. This chilling story involved a 7-year-old girl who was raped and strangled by her mother’s landlord, Getnet Baye, whose wife was reportedly a relative of Awot’s mother, Abekyelesh Adeba. The person meant to protect Heaven instead violated and murdered her. The situation worsened when the landlord appealed the case, broke out of prison, and came after Awot’s mother, threatening her with a gun.

These incidents are not isolated events; they reflect a troubling pattern. In Kenya, 41 percent of married women have faced physical violence, compared to 20 percent of those who are unmarried.

In January 2024, 26-year-old Wahu Starlet was stabbed to death by her male partner in an Airbnb in Kenya. Two weeks later, 20-year-old Rita Waeni met the same grim fate. In response, Kenyan women took a stand. On January 27, thousands marched in Nairobi and other cities, demanding an end to femicide and violence against women. With placards reading “Say Their Names,” and “Stop Killing Us!” women and men voiced their outrage. Yet, how can personal and even collective efforts combat such a deeply systemic issue?

The same grim reality extends to Uganda, where the narrative isn’t marked by the cases of star athletes but by the stories of everyday women. This underscores a harsh truth: no woman, regardless of fame, class, or education, is safe. In January 2024, a Ugandan pastor in Bukhabusi, Namisidwa district, was arrested for brutally murdering his wife, who was 22 weeks pregnant.

The 2020 National Survey on Violence Against Women and Girls, the first of its kind conducted by the Uganda Bureau of Statistics with support from the U.N.’s Women Count program, uncovered alarming statistics. Nearly all Ugandan women and girls (95 percent) have faced physical or sexual violence, or both, by partners or others since age 15. The survey also revealed that 43 percent of girls are married by 18, and 33 percent of girls under 15 have been coerced into their first sexual encounter. Between 2018 and 2020, there were 5,000 new reports of gender-based violence annually.

Femicide and gender-based violence are not new issues in African countries, yet they seem to be rising sharply in East Africa in recent times, particularly in Kenya, Uganda, and Ethiopia. Authorities appear largely indifferent.

After Tirop’s tragic death, the Kenyan athletics foundation suspended all sporting activities for two weeks in her honor—a gesture of respect for a fallen star. But how does that protect other female athletes from meeting the same fate? It doesn’t—and it hasn’t. When Awot’s landlord appealed his 25-year sentence—a move that ignited national and international outrage, with many arguing the sentence was far too lenient—Ethiopia’s Minister of Women and Social Affairs, Ergogie Tesfaye, called Awot’s story “horrible” and “inhumane,” pledging to investigate further.

But will that be enough to stop the violence? What about Awot’s mother who has been on the run for months, fearing for her life, constantly changing jobs, and living in a state of perpetual fear?

In 2023, Ethiopia ranked 146 out of 177 countries in Georgetown University’s Women, Peace and Security Index, highlighting its status as one of the most dangerous places for women. What about the countless other women who face this harsh reality every day—who is fighting for them?

“What would the government do if 32 women were killed by a disease in a month?” Njeri Migwi, founder of Usikimwe, an organization that helps Kenyan women escape violent relationships, said to AP earlier in the year. “It would declare it a national disaster.”

In January this year, 32 women died by femicide in Kenya.

“We strongly condemn the brutal attack on Kenya-based Ugandan athlete Rebecca Cheptegei,” said Tirop’s Angels, an NGO founded two years ago by Tirop’s family and friends to combat gender-based violence in Kenya, in a statement yesterday. They emphasized that violence against women is intolerable: “We stand with Rebecca and will continue to fight gender-based violence in all its forms.” Tirop’s Angels took a significant step by opening a facility in Iten in May, where survivors of gender-based violence get counseling and support.

While Ethiopian women are being suppressed, forbidden from marching, and blocked from public gatherings, they refuse to be subdued. TikTokers like Jordin Bezabih have exposed the government’s attempts to stifle their voices, yet these women remain defiant. They’ve turned to social media, particularly TikTok, to share Awot’s story and call on everyone to demand justice and fight for the rights of Ethiopian women.

But as valiant as these actions are, they’re personal initiatives struggling against an entrenched, systemic problem. If celebrated, seemingly protected women like Tirop, Mutua and Cheptegei can be targeted, what hope is there for women in rural areas, for the poor, the uneducated, and the young girls like Awot? What will it take for the government to act? When will enough be enough? When a nation fails its women, it condemns them to death.