Olsen Siyunda

When gender-based violence steals a mother’s life, it also steals a child’s world. 

What remains is a haunting silence, a silence so heavy it follows the child into every corner of their life. 

In Namibia, this silence is growing, yet few dare to listen.

These children are not only left behind, but they are left unseen. 

Their mornings begin with memories and end with questions no one can answer. 

They are shuffled between relatives, spoken of in whispers and expected to simply move on. 

But how does one move on from the sound of a mother’s last cry?

We speak about justice and locking away the perpetrators, but we forget those who wake up each day, carrying the weight of that loss. 

No courtroom verdict can replace a mother’s embrace or heal a child’s nightmares.

These children deserve more than sympathy. 

They need space to heal, speak and be reminded that their lives did not end with their mother’s. 

They need communities that see them not as victims, but as seeds of change, and as children who can rise from pain into purpose if only we care enough to help them.

I know this truth too well.

I am one of them, and I refuse to let our silence bury another childhood.

When the lullaby stops singing, the nation must start listening.