The end of femicide will come when we stop raising girls to be afraid and start raising boys to be respectful.
Boys who will learn that love is not ownership, that rejection is not an insult, and that no woman belongs to them.
In just a few days, two more women were murdered by their husbands. Two women dead. Four children orphaned. Four lives that will grow up with a void that can never be filled.
The city doesn’t matter. Age doesn’t matter. Profession, social class, or circumstances don’t matter. The names, places, and details change every time. The common denominator, however, remains the same: the belief that a woman is someone else’s property. That a man has the right to decide her fate, even to take her life when she chooses to leave, to resist, or simply to live as she wishes.
I’ve written this before. And again. And again. Each time with the hope that I won’t have to write them again. And yet, we return to the same words, the same pain, the same rage.
Because the problem isn’t what a woman was wearing, how she spoke, where she was, or what choices she made. All these discussions are nothing more than a way to shift the blame from the perpetrator to the victim, and for some to wash the blood from the hands of the patriarchal murderer.
I hope this is the last time I write a text like this. I hope so. But as long as women are being slaughtered by thugs, we have no right to remain silent.
