A mother’s public plea has shattered silence and ignited a movement against sexual violence.

The protesters were livid. They shook the gates of the school where a mother said her 7-year-old daughter had been raped. Some called for it to be shut down. Others threatened to burn it.

The fury began after videos of the mother, Thandekile Mtshizana, surfaced online. In the clips, viewed millions of times, she described her daughter’s alleged assault at Bergview College in the small town of Matatiele, South Africa — a community better known for its tidy, orderly streets than for protest.

The girl, known publicly by the pseudonym “Cwecwe,” has become the symbol of a larger national crisis: the epidemic of sexual violence in South Africa. Her case has broken through a long-standing culture of shame and silence, particularly in rural communities where sexual abuse is often whispered about, if acknowledged at all.

“This time, we say it cannot be business as usual,” said Thapelo Monareng, a retail worker who skipped work to join the protest. “We are here to say enough is enough.”

A Crisis in Numbers

An average of 118 rapes are reported every day in South Africa, according to the latest police statistics. More than one in three South African women over the age of 18 — more than seven million — have experienced physical violence. Yet between 2018 and 2023, over 61,000 rape cases and 5,500 sexual assault cases were closed without resolution.

Women’s rights advocates say the government’s response has long been inadequate — reactive, rather than proactive.

“We come from an era where the penalty for beating and raping a girl was a goat and a few lashes at the chief’s court,” said Thabang Kuali, a traditional leader in Matatiele. “While those days are largely gone, I hope this case shifts the needle in how men think.”

He added: “I saw men marching against rape for the first time because of Cwecwe.”

No Suspects, Few Answers

Police say the investigation into Cwecwe’s case is ongoing and “extremely sensitive.” A DNA test did not find foreign material on the girl’s body or clothing. A doctor’s initial examination was inconclusive. So far, no suspects have been named.

Bergview College has not responded to requests for comment. The school’s principal, through his lawyer, has denied responsibility, claiming that the girl’s injuries suggest she was assaulted elsewhere.

But for Mrs. Mtshizana, that doesn’t matter. “I will get justice one way or another,” she said.

From Silence to Movement

The mother, who is also a police officer at a different station, said she initially reported the assault in October. But nothing happened for months. In March, frustrated and desperate, she posted her daughter’s story on TikTok. That’s when it went viral.

She says her daughter told her she was asked by a school caretaker to sweep a classroom. While doing so, she smelled something like burning tires and fell unconscious. When she woke up, she had injuries but no memory of what had happened.

Back home, she complained of stomach pain. Blood stained her track pants. A doctor confirmed what every parent dreads: she had been raped.

“I cried,” Mrs. Mtshizana said in one video. “I cried because I am also a victim of rape. I know how it feels.”

Haunted by her own experience — she was raped at 20 — she said she couldn’t sit in silence while another investigation stalled. “I still live with those scars,” she said. “I want different for my daughter.”

A Plea for National Action

The protests peaked in March when demonstrators marched to President Cyril Ramaphosa’s office, delivering a petition demanding that sexual violence be declared a national disaster.

Sabrina Walter, founder of the advocacy group Women for Change, said the declaration would enable emergency funding and force collaboration across law enforcement, health, and social services.

“This must become a catalyst for systemic change — not just another flicker of attention that fades until the next tragedy,” she said.

A Changed Child, A Fighting Mother

Before the attack, Cwecwe was a top student who loved being a big sister. Now, her mother says, she’s quiet and withdrawn, often sketching broken hearts.

“All I can do is fight for her,” Mrs. Mtshizana said.