The morning air at the Union Buildings in Pretoria, the historic seat of the South African government, was heavy with both grief and a defiant sense of purpose on 21 November. Thousands of women, joined by allies and activists, began to assemble on the sprawling lawns, creating a sea of black attire punctuated by flashes of purple—the colors of a movement that has reached its breaking point. As the sun climbed, the air filled with the haunting melodies of “Senzeni na?” (What have we done?) and “Zizaw’ujik’izinto” (Things will change). These are not merely songs; they are the anthems of South African struggle, carrying the weight of decades of resistance against oppression, now redirected toward a domestic enemy: gender-based violence and femicide (GBVF).
The demonstration reached a harrowing climax at midday. In a synchronized act of remembrance and protest, the thousands gathered fell into a profound silence, lying flat on the ground for fifteen minutes. This “die-in” was a physical representation of the women lost every single day to violence in South Africa. According to data championed by the nonprofit organization Women for Change, approximately 15 women are murdered daily in the country, a statistic that has transformed the nation into one of the most dangerous places in the world for women outside of a war zone.
This mass mobilization, branded as the “G20 Women’s Shutdown,” was strategically timed to coincide with the G20 Summit in Johannesburg. As world leaders and international delegations discussed global economics and policy, the women of South Africa ensured that the blood of their sisters was part of the conversation. Led by Women for Change, the movement called for a total stay-at-home order: women were urged to skip work, refrain from all financial transactions, and observe the 15-minute silence. The digital landscape mirrored the physical protest, with a viral purple-themed social media campaign seeing supporters across the globe change their profile pictures in a show of international solidarity.
Among the crowd in Pretoria was 28-year-old Lebogang Ntsia. Her presence was deeply personal. “I came here not only because I’ve got people that I know who have been victims of femicide and gender-based violence, but because this is a crisis,” she said, her voice steady despite the emotional gravity of the day. “We see women dying every day and we need our voices to be heard. Just as women many years ago protested here against apartheid laws and showed up for the changes that we are privileged to experience today, we also need to be the generation that steps up.”
Ntsia’s reference to history is poignant. In 1956, 20,000 women marched on these same Union Buildings to protest the pass laws of the apartheid regime. Today’s generation views the fight against GBVF as the new frontier of the liberation struggle. The urgency is backed by harrowing data. The First South African National Gender-based Violence Study, a landmark report released in 2024 with support from UN Women, revealed that 35.8 percent of South African women—more than one in three—have experienced physical or sexual violence in their lifetime.
The sheer scale of the protest and the weight of over one million petition signatures finally forced a tectonic shift in government policy. In a historic move, the South African government officially declared gender-based violence and femicide a national disaster. This classification is more than symbolic; it is a bureaucratic lever that unlocks emergency funding, streamlines administrative processes, and mandates a heightened level of inter-departmental cooperation to address the crisis with the same urgency as a natural catastrophe or a pandemic.
Addressing the G20 Social Summit, President Cyril Ramaphosa acknowledged the severity of the situation. “We have agreed, among all social partners, that we need to take extraordinary and concerted action—using every means at our disposal—to end this crisis,” the President stated. He emphasized that the solution cannot rest solely on the shoulders of women, asserting that men and boys must take the lead in dismantling the patriarchal structures and attitudes that normalize and enable violence.
Aleta Miller, the UN Women Representative in South Africa, underscored the human reality behind the numbers. “They are mothers, daughters, sisters, friends—whose lives have been cut short or forever changed,” she noted. Miller argued that the “national disaster” declaration must lead to an all-of-society approach that integrates judicial reform, economic support for survivors, and deep-seated cultural change.
The protest occurred against the backdrop of a unique moment in international diplomacy. For three consecutive years, the G20 presidency has been held by nations of the Global South: India in 2023, Brazil in 2024, and South Africa in 2025. This “troika” has successfully shifted the G20’s focus toward a more inclusive gender agenda. India’s presidency was a turning point, moving the needle from mere “women’s empowerment” to “women-led development” and establishing the Women’s Empowerment Working Group as a formal part of the G20 structure. Brazil built on this by prioritizing the care economy—recognizing the trillions of dollars in unpaid labor performed by women—and hosting the first-ever formal meeting of the Working Group.
South Africa’s 2025 presidency, themed “Solidarity, Equality, and Sustainability,” arrives at a crossroads. It marks the 30th anniversary of the Beijing Declaration and Platform for Action, yet the world remains far from achieving the gender equality goals set for 2030. Under South Africa’s leadership, the G20 agenda has expanded to include critical intersections of gender, such as land rights, health equity, and agriculture. However, the shadow of violence remains the most significant barrier to progress.
The economic gaps remain startling. Most G20 nations are nowhere near reaching the target of a 25 percent reduction in the labor force participation gap between genders. Furthermore, climate finance—a major G20 talking point—largely ignores women, with less than 2 percent of such funding reaching female small-scale producers in developing nations.
Central to the discussions in Johannesburg was the G20 Ministerial Dialogue on Positive Masculinities. This forum, held in October, brought together a diverse group of stakeholders, including traditional and religious leaders, to confront the root causes of violence. Deputy Minister Mmapaseka Steve Letsike delivered a blunt assessment to the assembly: “Patriarchy is a human crisis, not merely a women’s issue.”
Anna Mutavati, the UN Women Regional Director for East and Southern Africa, echoed this sentiment during the G20 Ministerial Meeting. “Across countries, physical spaces or online contexts, the dominance of patriarchal masculinities is a common thread underlying the perpetration of gender-based violence,” she said. The consensus among leaders is that achieving true equality requires men to act as strategic partners who actively challenge harmful social norms rather than remaining passive observers.
The road from commitment to action is paved with legislative and financial hurdles. Since the 2018 “Total Shutdown” march, South Africa has made strides in creating a framework for change. The government launched the National Strategic Plan on GBVF, backed by an investment of approximately R21 billion (USD 1.2 billion). Significant legal milestones have also been reached, including the signing of the National Council on Gender-Based Violence and Femicide Bill into law in May 2024, which aims to provide a statutory body to oversee the national response.
As the nation transitions into the 16 Days of Activism against Gender-Based Violence, the echoes of the 21 November protest remain loud. The G20 Women’s Shutdown served as a stark reminder to world leaders that economic stability and global progress are impossible so long as half the population lives in fear. For the thousands who lay in silence at the Union Buildings, the message was clear: the time for “awareness” has passed, and the era of extraordinary, life-saving intervention must begin. The declaration of a national disaster is a beginning, but for women like Lebogang Ntsia, the true measure of success will be found in a future where “Senzeni na?” no longer needs to be sung.
