SHAME IS NOT A SHELTER: Why Silence Protects Perpetrators and Harms Survivors

Pefimbo Shipunda, Senior Social Worker, One Economy Foundation

In the wake of yet another series of brutal acts of violence against women and children in Namibia, a painful truth confronts us: while perpetrators may commit the violence, it is silence that sustains it.

Shame is a powerful force in our communities. It silences victims, shields abusers, and prioritises reputation over justice. It tells survivors to keep quiet, not because they are wrong, but because speaking out might bring “dishonour” to their families. It urges communities to downplay what they know, and families to “deal with it privately,” often by suppressing the voices of those most harmed.

But this shame is misplaced. There is nothing shameful about surviving violence. The shame belongs to the abuser, and to the society that protects them.

When survivors are met with disbelief or blame, when justice systems fail to act swiftly, and when families choose secrecy over accountability, the result is a deadly culture of complicity. Children grow up learning that abuse is a private matter. Victims become isolated, and perpetrators are empowered to do it again, often within the same household or community.

This is how trauma becomes intergenerational. Silence doesn’t just enable a single act of violence, it allows that violence to echo across time, across families, and across lives.

It is time we confront this silence with courage. We must talk openly about the dynamics of abuse, not only in the media or in courtrooms, but in our homes, schools, churches, and clinics. We must teach our children that love is not control and that violence is not a family secret. We must build a culture where survivors are supported and believed, not shamed into silence.

Being an active bystander is one of the most immediate and effective tools we have. It means speaking out when we know something is wrong. It means challenging harmful jokes, intervening when we witness abuse, and reporting known violence, even when it involves someone close to us. It means shifting from passive silence to protective action.

Ending GBV-F in Namibia will take more than awareness campaigns and commemorative days. It will take families choosing accountability over image. It will take communities choosing to protect the vulnerable rather than the violent. And it will take all of us choosing courage over comfort.

We cannot heal what we refuse to name. We cannot protect those we silence. And we cannot change what we continue to excuse.

Shame is not a shelter. Silence is not safety. The truth, painful as it may be, is the only path to justice, healing, and change.