In my previous post, I reflected on the importance of accountability, the kind that challenges systems, structures, and societal norms.

Now, let’s go further. Let’s go to the beginning.

The truth is, if we truly want to prevent violence against women and girls (VAWG), we must start at the root. Cutting the branches of a tree won’t stop it from growing back. In the same way, focusing only on the aftermath of violence will never be enough. Equipping victims isn’t enough. Teaching girls from a young age to defend themselves isn’t enough. Giving survivors tools to rebuild their lives isn’t enough.

All of those things matter, but they won’t prevent violence from happening in the first place.

The problem isn’t simply a lack of services for victims. The deeper issue is that the very systems and structures around us give abusers the space to act as they do, often without consequences. And when I speak of abusers, I’m not only talking about the individuals who cause harm. I’m also pointing to the wider environment that excuses, upholds, and even protects their behaviour.

Take society, for example. The very same one that cries out for justice is often the one shaping norms that socialize boys into a model of masculinity built on dominance, emotional suppression, and aggression. In simple words: society is teaching our boys that men don’t cry. As a result, many grow into angry men who project the buried pain and trauma they were never allowed to process.

This isn’t cultural and it isn’t accidental. It’s systemic. And it’s one of the reasons why support systems, while necessary, can never replace prevention.

To challenge violence, we must first understand how we’ve been taught to accept it, to hide it, and to normalize it.

During my undergraduate studies in Spanish, I came across a line that has stayed with me ever since:

“Mothers will shout at their daughters to make dinner, while they’ll shout at their sons to come as dinner is ready.”

That sentence struck me because it was so familiar. It spoke to something I had witnessed but never named: the way gender roles are quietly but consistently taught in the home. It reminded me that advocacy doesn’t only happen in public spaces; it begins in private ones too.

Our genesis, the stories we’re told about gender, power, and worth, shapes our behaviours, our policies, and our expectations. And when we begin there, we begin the real work of change.

If we want to create a world where women and girls are safe, supported, and free, we can’t only react to violence. We have to prevent it.

And prevention means:

• Questioning how boys and girls are raised.
• Challenging the norms that equate masculinity with control.
• Unlearning the patterns we’ve internalised and passed down.

Because if we don’t address the roots, the cycle continues.

Every story has a beginning. And for many of us, that beginning involves learning who we are “supposed” to be.

But what if we challenged that?
What if prevention started with listening, with re-educating ourselves, and with creating new narratives?

You’re welcome to reflect on this post, share it with others, and follow along as this journey continues.

Let’s advocate, not just for change, but for a better beginning.