Today, shops are awash in red and white. Florists are fully booked. Restaurants and resorts have prepared special menus for couples eager to celebrate Valentine’s Day. Social media timelines will overflow with carefully curated declarations of affection, expensive gifts and grand gestures meant to symbolise devotion. 

Yet beneath the roses and reservations lies an uncomfortable question: Is this truly love? 

Year after year, while millions are spent in the name of romance, Namibia continues to grapple with violence committed in the name of “love”. So-called passion killings persist. Women, in particular, continue to lose their lives at the hands of partners who once professed affection. This week alone, another woman reportedly became a statistic in an alleged love crime. For her family, Valentine’s Day will forever carry a different meaning. 

This contradiction should trouble us. 

How can a society that so enthusiastically celebrates a day of love simultaneously tolerate — and in some instances normalise — jealousy, control and violence within relationships? How can we speak of devotion while failing to confront the toxic patterns that destroy lives? 

Perhaps the answer lies not in adulthood, but in childhood. 

Love is not first learnt in romantic relationships. It is first observed, experienced and internalised at home. The way children see conflict handled, affection expressed, disappointment managed and boundaries respected becomes the blueprint for how they will love in the future. 

If a child grows up witnessing love expressed through control, shouting or emotional manipulation, that becomes normal. If jealousy is excused as proof of affection, it becomes romanticised. If boys are not taught emotional regulation and girls are not taught self-worth and boundaries, we should not be surprised when relationships later collapse under the weight of insecurity and entitlement. 

Emotional intelligence is not a luxury; it is a necessity. 

We place significant emphasis on academic achievement, sporting excellence and career ambition. Yet far less attention is given to teaching children how to manage rejection, communicate feelings, resolve conflict and accept that love does not guarantee ownership. These are not soft skills. They are survival skills — for individuals and for society. 

A child who is taught empathy learns to consider the feelings of others. A child who is taught self-regulation learns to pause before reacting in anger. A child who is taught that “no” is a complete sentence grows into an adult who understands consent . These lessons shape future husbands, wives, partners and parents. 

We must also dismantle the dangerous notion that love is possession. 

Too often, young people are socialised to equate love with control. Statements such as “If I can’t have you, no one will” are repeated so frequently in music, films and casual conversations that they begin to sound normal. They are not normal. They are warning signs. 

Real love does not demand ownership. It does not thrive on fear. It does not insist on staying when one party is unhappy or unsafe. Loving someone enough to let them go — to prioritise their wellbeing over one’s pride — is a far more powerful demonstration of affection than any public display or expensive gift. 

Letting go is not weakness. It is emotional maturity. 

Equally troubling is the growing commercialisation of love. Valentine’s Day has become, in many instances, a competition of expenditure. Young people, eager to impress, sometimes feel pressured to spend beyond their means to prove devotion. When financial sacrifice in a form of money bouquets and presents as expensive as cars is interpreted as emotional investment, a dangerous mindset can emerge — one that treats affection as a transaction. 

Love is not a business deal. It should not come with receipts and repayment demands. 

Children must be taught early that generosity should be freely given, not strategically invested. Give only what you are prepared to lose. When affection is conditional upon material return, resentment festers. When one partner feels entitled to control because they have “spent”, the foundation of respect erodes. Healthy relationships are built on mutual care, shared responsibility and emotional reciprocity — not financial leverage. 

Parents and guardians carry a profound responsibility. Raising emotionally intelligent children requires intentionality. It requires modelling respectful communication. It requires apologising when wrong. It requires teaching sons that strength includes vulnerability, and teaching daughters that love should never cost them their dignity or safety. 

Schools, churches and community institutions also have a role to play. Conversations about healthy relationships, consent and emotional wellbeing should not be taboo. 

If we can openly discuss mathematics and science, we can also discuss how to navigate heartbreaks without violence. 

Breaking generational cycles is not easy. Many adults are themselves products of environments where emotional expression was discouraged or conflict was poorly managed. But awareness is the first step towards change. A nation that acknowledges the link between childhood experiences and adult relationships is better positioned to prevent future tragedies. 

Valentine’s Day, then, should not only be about celebration. It should be about reflection. 

It should remind us that love is more than a feeling; it is a practice. It is patience in disagreement. It is respect in separation. It is accountability in failure. It is freedom, not control. 

If we truly wish to reduce violence committed in the name of passion, we must begin long before couples exchange gifts. We must invest in the emotional development of our children. We must raise a generation that understands that love is not obsession, not entitlement and certainly not violence. 

Because the quality of tomorrow’s relationships is determined in today’s homes. 

The roses will fade. The restaurant bills will be paid. The social media posts will remain just that on timelines. But the lessons we teach our children about love will endure. 

Love, in its truest form, begins in childhood.