While the word “femicide” — referring to the killing of women — goes back to around 1800, it wasn’t until the 1970s that the late South African feminist activist and scholar Diana Russell popularized the word.
As well as popularizing the term, Russell also redefined it — to refer specifically to the killing of women by men because they are women. This was key for Russell, who hoped that having a word to describe the widespread killing of women by men as a result of their gender would help rally activists behind the fight to protect women.
Since then, there has been a movement to have femicide recognized in global legislation and public policies as a specific criminal offense. In Rwanda, however, similar to many other African nations, femicide does not yet have official recognition by the law.
Why is this important? Because of people like Irene Mukasine for starters.
In September this year, Mukasine’s neighbor Denis Kazungu was arrested and accused of killing at least 12 people, most of them women. After his arrest, Mukasine shared her frustration that so little had been done to stop the violence that she and her other neighbors suspected.
“Even though we reported multiple times to the ‘mutwarasibo’ [the head of a village cluster], we received no help,” Mukasine said, on the verge of tears, in a video interview with The New Times.
Mukasine’s words garnered attention on social media, generating numerous comments and retweets. After all, Mukasine may have been addressing a question that had been lingering in the thoughts of many following Denis Kazungu’s arrest: How was he able to do this for so long without being stopped?
An overwhelming majority of Kazungu’s victims were female sex workers, a phenomenon that experts argue contributes to the acceptance, tolerance, and justification of ongoing violence against women.
In 2023, according to Femicide Watch Rwanda, there were 68 documented femicides in Rwanda — compared to 71 documented femicides in 2022. It’s key to note the real number is likely much higher, with issues in both reporting and documenting femicide.
They said on X: “68 lives of women and girls that have been violently and suddenly ended. 68 families that have lost their loved ones to violence, in these past 11 months. When does it end?”
After the murder of her friend, Diane Ingabire, at the hands of her husband in 2021, Angella Ilibagiza, the driving force behind Femicide Watch Rwanda, was at first shocked. Then, realizing that what happened to Ingabire was likely happening to many women across Rwanda, Ilibagiza was consumed by an unstoppable desire to raise awareness. She transformed her grief into determination, transitioning into a full-time activist. Ilibagiza started with an artwork titled “Tubavuge Amazina,” featuring Diane Ingabire’s name, which focused primarily on femicide and violence against women, and also brought to light women who made an impact but were erased from history.
Now, for her art pieces, Ilibagiza compiles a yearly list of femicide victims and then crafts an artwork, including the names of women killed within the piece. She recently launched a campaign to create portraits of femicide victims too, reaching out to their relatives for photographs to incorporate into her drawings.
“I’ve already created a portrait for Diane, and I plan to recreate another victim’s photo soon,” Ilibagiza told SENS. “Not all families can easily access social media, especially those in rural areas, and some might hesitate to share victim photos, so I intend to travel across the country.” During her travels, Ilibagiza will visit families identified from the collected data, aiming to establish connections and gain their support for the project.
According to the artist, she is getting growing interest, both in the artworks and from people wanting to better understand femicide. Another artist, too, has expressed interest in joining the portrait campaign.
Ilibagiza’s anger is also manifesting through an upcoming art exhibition, in collaboration with fellow artists Crista Uwase, Fabiola Uwera Rutamu, and Jemima Kakizi. Much of the inspiration for Ilibagiza’s work is the desire to make sure that victims of femicide are seen, and that their stories are heard and remembered.
In Rwanda, femicide cases are often characterized in the media as routine homicides, frequently lacking names and images of the victims; a situation that Ilibagiza said implicitly disregards the victim. This portrayal of the victims as, in Ilibagiza’s words, “anonymous persons who essentially didn’t exist,” is one of the reasons many people don’t realize how significant the issue of femicide really is.
“The victims become unseen in the stories of how they died. Our goal at Femicide Watch Rwanda is to make these victims visible by gathering their names and sharing them on social media,” Ilibagiza said.
According to UN Women, violence against women and girls is the most widespread human rights violation globally. Nearly one in three women have experienced physical and/or sexual intimate partner violence or non-partner sexual violence at least once.
In tackling this issue, Femicide Watch Rwanda firmly roots its work in transforming cultures that not only normalize violence against women, but in some cases encourage it.
“Femicide doesn’t happen out of nowhere, and these incidents are not isolated,” says Ilibagiza. “They stem from unresolved violence. Women aren’t killed without prior violence, be it beatings or threats.”
Moreover, many Kinyarwanda slangs promote violence against women. For instance, “Ni ko zubakwa” literally means “that’s how homes are built,” encouraging women to endure abuse. “Bazagira ngo iki” translates to “what will they say?” and is used to shame women into staying in abusive homes. “Ihangane wirere abana” means “be patient and raise your children,” reflecting the belief that children belong to their father in our culture. “Nzakwica njye kurya ibigori/impungure” translates to “I’ll murder you and go to eat corn.” In this context, impungure is a meal served in prison, symbolizing the threat that a man can kill his wife and be willing to face the consequences by eating the unpleasant impungure.These slangs cannot be entirely divorced from these acts of murder.
Addressing the femicide crisis, however, goes beyond hearing and responding to women’s calls for help when they experience violence; it also requires the enforcement of existing laws and the implementation of new laws that better protect women. Femicide is not yet acknowledged in the Rwandan criminal code. This is why Laura Uwizihiwe, a feminist and Associate Director of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Humanitarian Affairs at Kigali-based education institute Kepler, suggests that its recognition could shift perspectives within the justice system.
“We do have laws in place, but these laws don’t specifically address femicide,” she explained. “They deal with murder, with different levels based on the circumstances. It’s something that needs examination; the legal system should assign more significance to it.” She further explained that, after being exposed to and growing up in a patriarchal culture, women can end up defending perpetrators of femicide, noting that a real awareness on the issue is necessary to change the culture and the law.
“To raise awareness and help people understand, we need to convey that feminist advocacy is not just a western concept,” she said. “These are the daily challenges faced by Rwandan women.”
The data provided by Femicide Watch Rwanda for example, comes with certain limitations. The researcher noted the challenge of accurately documenting gender-related killings because organizations that could aid in this documentation do not acknowledge femicide as a distinct issue. Therefore, the actual numbers may exceed those reported in the study. “Based on the figures reported by the Rwanda National Police (RNP) and Rwanda Investigation Bureau (RIB), I have not covered 393 victims. I’m continuing my research to identify them,” said Ilibagiza.
As of the press deadline, the Ministry of Gender and Family Planning and the Gender Monitoring Office had not responded to requests for comments.
Amid the many challenges of her work to end femicide, what is it that keeps Ilibagiza going?
“If I lose hope, what do I have left?” she told us. “I hold on to hope, knowing that femicide is preventable. Though most perpetrators are men, something can be done to change men’s attitudes. I have hope because baby boys are not born violent; they learn violence. So, if boys can learn violence, they can unlearn it too.”
Perhaps the lack of a strong outcry against violence against women is not because such violence isn’t widespread—it undoubtedly is, frustratingly, a part of everyday life. Instead, it might be due to the fact that it is not recognized for what it truly is: femicide.