Each year on November 25, the world observes the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women.

Leaders mount podiums, and statements are issued. Social media fills with orange ribbons and solemn promises. And yet, for many Jamaican women, nothing changes.

For decades, women’s organisations have marched, prayed, protested, and petitioned. They have worn black in mourning. They have lit candles in memory. They have called the names of daughters, mothers, sisters—names that should never have become hashtags.

Still, the violence continues.

It continues in homes behind closed doors.
It continues in communities where fear silences witnesses.
It continues in courtrooms where delays drain hope.

And sometimes, it continues even when those with privilege and power — those with the means to leave — quietly pack their bags and go.

Recently, I wrote asking: Who failed our women?

Was it policymakers who promised reform but delivered reports?
Was it the systems that move too slowly for grieving families?
Was it a culture that normalises abuse until tragedy strikes?

Or was it all of us?

Now the nation waits for March 6th and the anticipated completion of the Silvera case. The streets have spoken. Women dressed in black yesterday, not as a fashion statement but as a symbol — mourning not only one life, but a pattern. A pattern that cuts across class and status. Because violence does not discriminate, it does not ask for a bank statement before it strikes. It does not check social standing before it destroys.

The question is not simply what the verdict will be.
The question is what happens after.

Will justice in one courtroom quiet the voices in the streets?
Will a single judgment restore trust in a system that many believe has been too slow, too lenient, too distant from the lived reality of women?

Or will this moment mark the beginning of something deeper — sustained advocacy, legislative reform, better funding for shelters, faster court processes, and stronger enforcement of protective orders?

Justice must be more than symbolic. It must be structural.

If the voices that marched yesterday fall silent after March 6th, then this moment will pass like so many before it — marked by headlines, then forgotten. But if those voices continue — demanding accountability regardless of class or status — then perhaps this is not the end of a protest, but the beginning of a reckoning.

Violence against women is not a seasonal issue. It is not confined to November 25. It is not solved by speeches or slogans. It is addressed by policy, by resources, by urgency, and by an unwavering national will.

The women who dressed in black are not waiting for empty words.
They are waiting for action.

The nation is watching.

Send comments and feedback to [email protected].