In the sterile, often intimidating environment of a police station, the moments after trauma are critical. A victim of gender-based violence, having gathered the immense courage to report an attack, is often met with a cold desk, bureaucratic forms, and the clinical glare of fluorescent lights. Their dignity, already stripped away by the perpetrator, can easily be further eroded by a system that is not equipped to offer comfort. On Wednesday, in Umhlanga, a powerful partnership sought to change that dynamic, one small bag at a time.
At the AVBOB provincial offices, the atmosphere was one of solemn purpose as the South African Police Service (SAPS) in KwaZulu-Natal took delivery of 1,000 “comfort packs” destined for victims of Gender-Based Violence and Femicide (GBVF). The packs, filled with toiletries and other essential items, represent more than just soap and toothpaste; they are a tangible message to survivors that the state, and the private sector, sees them, believes them, and cares for their immediate well-being.
The handover was the culmination of a recognition within AVBOB that the corporate sector could no longer remain on the sidelines of what has been described as South Africa’s “second pandemic.” As the country’s COVID-19 lockdowns trapped victims in their homes with their abusers, the statistics for GBV surged to horrifying levels, exposing a crisis that had long been hidden in plain sight.
“A Clear Statement of Intent”
Addressing a room filled with police brass, social workers, and community leaders, AVBOB’s General Manager for Tied Sales, Vusi Khathi, explained the journey that led to this moment.
“In 2020, as the nation grappled with the health crisis of COVID-19, we watched in horror as another crisis exploded in the shadows,” Khathi said. “The numbers of women and children being abused and killed in their own homes became so overwhelming that our government had to declare GBVF a second pandemic. We realized that we could not simply watch. We had to act.”
Khathi emphasized that the fight against GBV cannot be won through symbolic gestures or once-off campaigns. It requires a sustained, coordinated assault involving every sector of society. The 1,000 comfort packs, he said, are a practical, measurable contribution to that fight.
“Today’s launch is more than the start of a programme. It is a clear statement of intent,” Khathi declared. “When leaders gather with purpose, survivors feel supported. By partnering with law enforcement and the justice department, we are committing to practical, measurable action that strengthens prevention, supports survivors, and helps ensure accountability. Real change requires collaboration, consistency, and courage. We are proud to stand alongside our partners in building safer communities for all.”
The handover ceremony was followed by a pledge-signing, a symbolic but powerful moment where all parties—from the highest-ranking police officials to the corporate representatives—publicly renewed their commitment to eradicating the scourge of violence against women and children.
“Do Not Inflict Secondary Victimisation”
Receiving the donation on behalf of the province, KwaZulu-Natal Acting Deputy Provincial Commissioner for Crime Detection, Major General Anthony Gopaul, delivered a message that was both grateful and challenging.
Gopaul, standing in for Provincial Commissioner Nhlanhla Mkhwanazi, thanked AVBOB for refusing to be a bystander. But he quickly turned his focus inward, addressing the very institution he represents.
“We thank AVBOB for not being a bystander, but for taking a firm stand and partnering with us,” Gopaul said. “But we must also look at ourselves. We call on all police officers who respond to GBVF cases or encounter GBVF victims at police stations not to inflict secondary victimisation on victims.”
The term “secondary victimisation” hung heavy in the air. It refers to the trauma victims experience not from the original crime, but from the insensitive handling by the systems meant to help them—the skeptical questions, the lack of privacy, the bureaucratic indifference. Gopaul’s acknowledgment of this failing was a rare and honest moment of self-reflection from a senior police official.
“Police must show compassion and care,” he implored his colleagues. “Make victims feel supported. Assure them that they will get justice. Sometimes, victims do not want to see any woman or man in uniform during their time of distress. That is when our partners, the social workers and the nurses at Thuthuzela Centres, become so crucial. They help victims understand the process and begin to heal their emotional wounds.”
A Call to Men
Gopaul also used the platform to issue a direct challenge to the men of South Africa, a demographic too often silent in the face of the epidemic.
“Men must step up and have serious conversations with one another,” he said, his voice firm. “We must teach our daughters and sisters to walk away from abusive relationships, not to tolerate any form of abuse or disrespect. We must instil confidence in them. But we must also teach our sons. We must teach them that strength is not in violence, but in respect.”
Where the Packs Will Go
The logistics of the distribution were carefully planned to ensure the packs reach the victims at the most critical moments. Major General Gopaul announced that 500 of the comfort packs will be allocated directly to the Family Violence, Child Protection and Sexual Offences (FCS) units. These are the specialist detectives who deal with the most sensitive cases from the initial investigation through to prosecution.
A further 250 packs will go to the Social Crime Prevention units, who are often the first responders to domestic violence calls. The final 250 will be kept in reserve, strategically placed within the province’s network of Victim Friendly Rooms (VFRs)—dedicated spaces within police stations designed to offer privacy and a measure of comfort to survivors as they give their statements.
As the ceremony concluded, the boxes of comfort packs were loaded into police vehicles, ready to be dispersed across the length and breadth of KwaZulu-Natal. They are a small gesture in the face of a monumental crisis, but for the next 1,000 women or children who walk into a police station with nothing but the clothes on their back and a story of horror to tell, that small bag of toiletries will be a lifeline. It will be proof that someone cares. It will be the first step in a long journey to restore not just their cleanliness, but their dignity.
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