Every day, countless women and men navigate lives marked by fear, manipulation, humiliation, or physical harm, often behind walls where no one sees, and in workplaces where no one listens. Gender-Based Violence (GBV), in all its forms, leaves psychological wounds that survivors carry long after the visible signs disappear. While campaigns like the 16 Days of Activism and national systems such as the Isange One Stop Centre have created pathways for survivors to seek help, silence still hangs heavily in many homes and communities. Cultural expectations, shame, dependence, stigma, and institutional gaps continue to suppress stories that desperately need to be heard. Psychotherapist Chantal Mudahogora, who has spent years supporting those living with the consequences of gendered violence, believes that the first step toward healing is recognising that abuse is rarely a single event and almost never confined to one category. ALSO READ: How to address, overcome the impact of gender-based violence Survivors, she says, often come to therapy only when the situation becomes unbearable, yet the pain usually begins much earlier. Understanding the many faces of GBV “When people come to us, they present in different ways,” Mudahogora explains. “The way someone shows up often depends on the type of gender-based violence they have experienced. It could be physical, emotional, psychological, financial, or sexual abuse.” She adds, “What’s important to understand is that experiencing one form of violence often means a person has endured others as well, even if they may not immediately recognise it. The impacts are interconnected and can affect many aspects of a person’s life.” ALSO READ: How Gender-Based Violence affects mental health of the victim Survivors often seek help only when the violence escalates into something physical or when police, or community protection structures become involved. Before that point, many have endured long periods of emotional manipulation, degrading language, coercion disguised as affection, or financial control, but lack the vocabulary or validation to name their experiences as abuse. “Sexual violence within couples is one of the most misunderstood,” Mudahogora says. “Because they share a home, many don’t consider consent necessary, and therefore they don’t recognise what has happened as violence.” ALSO READ: Conjugal rape, the hidden vice many suffer in silence According to her, the therapeutic process begins by understanding the full context: what happened, for how long, how it has affected the survivor's emotional, and psychological wellbeing, and whether they are currently safe. ALSO READ: GBV: One woman’s violent marriage and her liberating choice to get out Only then can a personalised care plan be developed, often involving a combination of cognitive behavioural therapy, trauma-focused interventions, mindfulness practices, emotional regulation techniques, and safety planning for those who still live with their abuser. ALSO READ: Effects of GBV to watch out for Mudahogora says healing sexual and psychological violence can be especially complex because these forms of harm strike at identity, self-esteem, trust, and the survivor’s entire sense of self. “It affects how someone sees the world. It creates anxiety, fear, and sometimes paranoia. Survivors need to understand the emotions they carry, identify their triggers, and learn how to navigate them,” she says. She worries about those who never walk into a counselling room, either because the community normalises their suffering or because shame has convinced them that silence is less painful than seeking help. “There is no small abuse. Verbal, emotional, physical - none should be ignored or tolerated. Abuse escalates. Once it is accepted, it grows,” Mudahogora warns. ALSO READ: Justice for GBV victims: The highs and lows The silent epidemic of workplace harassment Workplace harassment remains one of the most underreported forms of gender-based violence in Rwanda. Many survivors continue to weigh their dignity against their livelihoods, a trade-off no one should ever have to consider. “Some abusers use their position of power to intimidate,” Mudahogora says. “People fear reporting because they don’t want to lose their jobs.” Aline Mutoniwase knows this pressure well. As a university student, she interned at a multimedia company and was later retained, but she eventually quit after her boss repeatedly demanded sexual favours. The more she refused, the more opportunities and professional growth he withheld. “I was desperate to learn multimedia,” she recalls. “But the more I resisted, the more he blocked my growth.” When she finally spoke out at home, it became clear she was not alone: several other young women had endured the same behaviour from the same employer, but fear had kept them silent. ALSO READ: How to deal with sexual harassment in the workplace Mudahogora believes workplaces must strengthen safeguarding policies, establish confidential reporting channels, and protect whistle-blowers from retaliation. ALSO READ: Building a gender equal workforce “Workplace abuse is not just misconduct. It is a legal matter. If employers fail to act, survivors should seek legal support. Silence enables abusers to keep repeating the same pattern with others.” ALSO READ: Sexual harassment: How will labour ministry fight the vice in the workplace? A hidden struggle: When men are victims too Rwanda’s demographic data, and global studies confirm that men also experience intimate partner violence, though often in silence. The expectations placed on men that is to be strong, steady, in control, become barriers to reporting. Many fear ridicule more than the abuse itself. This is the reality for Jean de Dieu Nkerabahizi, a construction worker in Kimironko sector. His wife, who runs a shop and bar, is the household breadwinner. Over time, the financial imbalance morphed into belittlement and aggression. “She despises me. I don’t have a say at home,” he says, speaking with visible discomfort. “She spends long hours at the bar with her clients and pays little attention to me. When I confront her, she becomes violent. It has been difficult for me because I have become a laughing stock,” he says Nkerabahizi’s story mirrors what Mudahogora encounters in therapy rooms. “Some husbands also get abused,” she says. “But very few speak out because of shame or fear of being seen as weak. Masculinity stereotypes silence them.” Many male survivours endure emotional torture and financial humiliation, and some experience physical violence, yet believe that no one will take them seriously. ALSO READ: Gender based violence against men: A silent crisis Recognising and supporting male victims is essential in building an inclusive and responsive protection system. Survivors often stay silent due to fear, shame, and trauma Gender-based violence is almost never just one incident. Most cases follow a predictable cycle involving rising tension, an episode of violence, apologies, reconciliation, and renewed hope, a psychological loop that binds survivors to their abusers. Mudahogora says survivors often cling to the offender’s “good side,” especially when children are involved. “Clients tell me, ‘When he is not drunk, he is the nicest person you will ever meet.’ This is common. The abuser may also be struggling with depression, trauma, or unresolved pain. They may drink to numb themselves. But that does not excuse the violence.” Fear of breaking up the family, concern for children, or hope that the abuser will change all keep survivors from seeking help. Unfortunately, children absorb more than adults assume. ALSO READ: Know your rights: Protection from gender-based violence “Parents think they are hiding conflict,” she explains. “But children sense everything, even at a very young age. They may not understand what is happening, but the emotional atmosphere enters their subconscious. That trauma follows them into adulthood.” She warns families and communities against minimising abuse in the name of preserving marriages. “How many times have we heard, ‘Be patient,’ or ‘Every marriage has issues’? But abuse is not ‘issues’. Abuse destroys a person. It destroys children. And it destroys future generations through the trauma passed down.” Online harassment on the rise Gender-based violence has extended into digital spaces, where victims face harassment, stalking, threats, unsolicited explicit content, and non-consensual sharing of private materials. For many women and young people, online spaces have become new battlegrounds. The psychological harm is profound and immediate. “Digital abuse creates fear and emotional distress just like physical abuse,” says Mudahogora. “We need stronger laws and more digital literacy so people recognise and report online violence.” Creating safer online communities, she adds, requires a combination of public awareness, platform responsibility, and firm action against those who misuse digital tools to harm others. Why financial independence matters Economic dependence remains one of the strongest predictors of vulnerability to gender-based violence. Survivors who rely on abusive partners for rent, food, school fees, or daily survival often feel they have nowhere to go. ALSO READ: Rwanda achieves 96% financial inclusion for women, driven by mobile banking growth Studies consistently show that women with no income are significantly more vulnerable to violence than their financially independent counterparts. Financial empowerment, through vocational training, microfinance opportunities, cooperative savings groups, or small enterprises, is therefore essential. “When someone has their own income,” Mudahogora says, “they have choices. And choices give freedom.” Inside the therapy room: rebuilding lives, step by step Supporting survivors requires a compassionate and structured approach. Mudahogora describes healing as an ongoing process that starts with understanding. Many survivors do not immediately recognise emotional or psychological abuse, especially when it has been normalised for years. Psycho-education helps them identify harmful patterns and understand their rights. Therapy also focuses on emotional regulation, helping survivors recognise how trauma affects the body and mind, and how triggers can be managed. For those still living with abusers, safety planning becomes critical, including identifying danger signs and preparing strategies to protect themselves and their children. Because abuse erodes confidence and identity, survivors spend significant time rebuilding self-worth, learning to assert boundaries, and re-establishing trust in themselves and others. Healing is never linear; setbacks occur, and long-term follow-up is often necessary to prevent relapses and strengthen resilience. Mudahogora emphasises that survivors cannot heal in isolation. Supportive communities play an irreplaceable role. Communities must be the first line of support “Everyone deserves to live a decent life free of violence,” Mudahogora says. “We must avoid minimising abuse. Whether verbal or emotional, do not say, ‘At least he didn’t hit you.’ Abuse should be addressed immediately.” She urges families, neighbours, and friends to listen without judgment, believe survivors when they speak, and help them access professionals and reporting mechanisms. Harmful advice, such as telling someone to “stay for the children” or “endure for the marriage,” only deepens the trauma. ALSO READ: Photos: Gender Minister urges cooperation to build families free of GBV Some abuse stems from untreated mental health issues, alcoholism, or unresolved trauma on the part of the abuser. Communities should encourage those who harm others to seek help, not to excuse their behaviour but to break the cycle of violence for good. Real change, Mudahogora insists, requires communities that understand the signs of abuse, reject stigma, and support survivors without conditions. ALSO READ: Community effort: Giving GBV victims the support they need Only when silence is replaced with empathy and decisive action will the cycle of gender-based violence begin to weaken, giving survivors the safety, dignity, and freedom they deserve.
