The cries of South Africans continue to echo into an abyss of indifference.

Women and children are persistently subjected to sexual violence, molestation, and countless other forms of abuse, often at the hands of those who are supposed to protect them — fathers, mothers, teachers, brothers, uncles and guardians, and so on.

Yet, these cries go unheard. Too many women, too many children, with far too many becoming nothing more than statistics; victims of the “monsters” lurking not in dark alleys, but in the hallways of their own homes, schoolyards, churches and university campuses.

April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month, but for many it feels like just another month on the calendar.

In a society where “monsters” walk freely among us, where they roam corridors at schools, workplaces and even homes, these awareness initiatives feel wasted. They are seemingly just reminders of the systemic failures that allow men to act with impunity and women and children to continue to bear the burden of violence.

This is not an awareness problem; it is a justice problem, and no institution is exempt.

A critical yet unaddressed question is, from whom does society need protection?

The answer is clear: protection from violence, harm and the very forces that men, as the primary perpetrators, perpetuate. This raises a further paradox, when men position themselves as protectors, who are they protecting, and from what? In most cases, they are protecting women and children from other men.

Yet, framing men as society’s defenders places power in the hands of those who are themselves frequently the source of violence. Notably, men themselves fear other men, which is an unspoken but pervasive anxiety that shapes our daily lives.

If men experience such wariness, the vulnerability of children is even more concerning. The reality is that a number of parents are fearful of their children going to school, playing outside, visiting a local shop, going to the post office or on a sleep over because of fear at the hands of men.

The lack of systemic urgency in addressing and calling out gender-based violence, and violence directed at children, exposes a harsh reality. SA, like much of the world, continues to fail its most vulnerable populations.

The “monsters” have names and are not lurking in the shadows, they are among us, shielded by a culture of silence and impunity.

Men must introspect and rise to the challenge of changing the status quo by putting a stop to viewing and treating women, girls and boys as objects and instead treat them as human beings deserving of dignity and safety. Until we dismantle the systems that protect perpetrators, justice will remain an illusion for too many.

Critical and central to this crisis is the continued reinforcement of toxic masculinity through phrases like, “boys will be boys” and “my brother’s keeper”, which have long been used to shield and excuse aggression, entitlement and violence under the guise of brotherhood.

True protection does not mean hiding behind or shielding abusive men out of loyalty; it means holding them accountable.

From the very spaces that should be sanctuaries of safety — our homes, schools, churches and universities — women and children are under constant threat. The institutions that should be the pillars of our society have instead become breeding grounds for violence. There are too many instances where the trusted guardians, whether teachers, parents, religious leaders or lecturers, turn out to be the very ones perpetrating the violence.

Take, for instance, the recent case of the 7-year-old at Bergview College in Matatiele, whose fate is now another grim statistic in the long list of victims of sexual abuse. Or countless other victims who are too often erased from the narrative, forgotten in a society that allows them to fade on the shelves of the police stations and courts.

These “monsters” have names, and they do not only lurk in dark corners. They are embedded in the very systems meant to care and protect. We must demand institutional accountability.

The systemic failure to provide safety is a glaring indictment of a society that continues to value the protection of perpetrators over the protection of victims and survivors.

In SA, the graves of women and children are not just places of rest, but rather the final act of silencing.

These deaths serve as a warning to other victims — speak out and this could be you. The violence does not end with physical harm, it extends to the systematic silencing of survivors and those who try to amplify their voices. Victims and survivors are equally often silenced by their families and their communities.

This crisis will not end until we demand more than just awareness; we demand action, accountability and real institutional support. It is time for SA to stand up and say, no more!

• Magayana is a senior officer: gender equality and anti-discrimination office, Unit for Institutional Change & Social Justice at the University of the Free State