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Get involved in Blocktober! Blocktober is a humble but determined Cape Town-based movement of people against GBV, started in 2020. Steps fo...

We are in this together (16 October 2026)

We are in this together 

Written by Peta Wolpe

Pic by Barbara Southworth


I love being in the ocean. I love the cold and being in nature. I love how the colours of the sea change: sometimes calm, almost like a lake, and sometimes wild. I love how the sky changes and how different it is if the sun is shining or the wind is howling or it is raining. Every season is different and every day is different. It is often a place where I am alone even when there are people around, a quiet time for me.

Swimming every day with a group of women, purposefully in support of Saartjie Baartman and victims of gender-based violence (GBV), has added something special to my swims. People are showing up, new friendships are forming and we are there together. Some people are swimming where they don’t usually swim, just to show up. On some days the temperature has hovered just above 8 degrees and we wonder why we are doing this. But when we get out, we always say how amazing and magical it was, and we say we are doing it for survivors of GBV. Those of us who are a bit fearful of big waves are still showing up, and for those of us who don’t like swimming in the tidal pool we are still showing up. People ask why we hold up fingers in the photo shoot (to show the number of swims) and why we are swimming at all. The message is spreading as each of us tells someone.



I wonder whether we have become increasingly desensitised to violence, and how easy it is to hear a story of GBV, war or cruelty to the natural world, such as polluting our oceans, and we carry on. These October swims are making us think, and making violence and its impact far more visible. This month gives us the opportunity to wake up and be aware.

Wonder (14 October 2026)

Wonder 

Poem and artwork by a Saartjie Baartman survivor, after a Sunday Solidarity hike


How pleasant it was,

walking underneath the warmfull sun,

with sounds of nature making it fun,

 

It makes my mind wonder with peace

and fills the broken parts with hope.

 

Hope to believe you can and with every step 

there’s light,

 

and every breath you take there’s life

life to start over and to regain what you have lost.

 

Just listen to the Earth,

listen to its story of 

how to find a new way to glory.



Read more about Blocktober here blocktober.co.za

Read more blog posts https://stepsforsaartjie.blogspot.com/2025/10/read-other-steps-for-saartjie-blogs.html?m=1

Donate using this link https://www.backabuddy.co.za/campaign/blocktober-and-saartjie-baartman-centre-2026

It's not a walk in the park (13 October 2026)

It's not a walk in the park 

Written by Janeen de Klerk



Seven friends began our solidarity walk on Tuesday 6th October 2026 in late afternoon light, vivid colours of the fynbos and beautiful sights of Cape Town. Quite a contrast to the dark, dull and scary walk experienced by survivors of GBV and the last steps victims were able to take.

Walking allowed us to reflect silently on why we chose to participate, as well as time to have shared conversations (serious or light) and admire the beauty around us. It's not a “walk in the park”, our individual struggles as we climb the hill are a reminder of the long, hard and slow journey survivors follow as they heal and / or seek justice. 

We took one wrong turn and deviated off the path but got back on track after stopping and consulting with each other.  Something minor but it made one realise how important and comforting support  and solidarity can be for survivors trying to find their path. 

We were accompanied by Bella – a four legged friend – whose joyful freedom as she explored the mountain is what we all wish we could experience in South Africa

A few thoughts from my fellow walkers:

A beautiful spring walk high above the Cape Town evening traffic with special friends, in solidarity with victims/survivors of GBV and recognition of the uphill struggle they so often face.

What a meaningful initiative. The walk was harder than I’d remembered. Lots and lots of steady uphill which was challenging. It truly made me feel in a tiny way what it must be like being a victim and survivor of Gender Based Violence and having to find a way to claim back your life. Thank you for making this happen so that we can show our solidarity. 

The walk up to the Blockhouse was indeed a slow burn in solidarity. It demanded meaningful participation. It provoked good conversation and thought.

A rocky/stony path that makes the walk difficult and characterises the road that GBV survivors have to tread as they try to get their lives back.

A lovely evening walk overlooking our beautiful city which belies some of the dreadful violence affecting our citizens. We walked in recognition of GBV in our communities, to raise awareness and hopefully eradicate this scourge in society.




Read more about Blocktober here blocktober.co.za

Read more blog posts https://stepsforsaartjie.blogspot.com/2025/10/read-other-steps-for-saartjie-blogs.html?m=1

Donate using this link https://www.backabuddy.co.za/campaign/blocktober-and-saartjie-baartman-centre-2026


Why do we do it? (12 October 2026)

Why do we do it?

written by Clare Verbeek




Every day in October, supporters of Blocktober walk or run or cycle up to the Blockhouse. This stone look-out fort was built on Devil’s Peak in 1795-96 as part of a defense system for the Cape Colony. Later it became a communication hub. 

There have been 8 organised walks to the Blockhouse so far this month, with a variety of participants expressing their solidarity with victims of gender-based violence. It takes us about an hour each way, on a steep, stony road. 

We asked participants: What do these walks mean to you? Why do you participate? Here are some of their responses:

• The Flats are so flat. Up here you can see the future.
• I walk and I think. You have to put one foot in front of the other. 
• It is freedom!
• I value talking with the Saartjie Baartman people and hearing their stories. It is a small kind of solidarity with beautiful people.
• Victims of GBV have to climb mountains daily. Walking up come rain or shine is what they have to do.
• It is great to be able to walk on the mountain with others and feel safe together.
• I put aside my worries when I am in nature. But I don’t like miggies!
• I never thought I would become a hiker, but look at me! 
• It is my way of standing up against GBV.
• I feel safe and supported.

What does Blocktober mean to you? 
Add your comment below.





Our progress on the Camino Blocktober

Camino Blocktober: Where are we now? 

By Lala Steyn and Dawie Bosch. 

From 1 October, we are walking the Camino Primitivo from Oviedo to Santiago de Compostela as our Blocktober Camino — carrying the Blocktober message of movement, connection, conversation and solidarity with survivors of gender-based violence.

This page is our running Camino diary. We plan to update it when we have time with where we are, how far we have walked, and possibly a few photographs and impressions from the road — including the people we meet and any connections we make with organisations working against gender-based violence in Asturias and Galicia.

Our latest update will always appear at the top, so you can quickly see where we are now. Earlier days will follow underneath as we make our way towards Santiago.

So, if you would like to follow our progress, bookmark this page and check back regularly.

Our progress:

10 October – Vilar de Cas to Lugo 19km

We walked about 16 km from Vilar de Cas to Lugo. Before leaving A Pociña de Muñiz, we recorded a short video interview with José, the owner, who told us how the family opened the albergue in 2018 by converting a long-abandoned ruin beside the family home, with the help of an architect cousin and the artistic eye of José’s wife. His father remembered the building as a ruin from his own childhood, and José’s research established that it had stood derelict for about a century. He also discovered that it had once been the village blacksmith’s forge. The result is a beautiful albergue that has helped make Vilar de Cas a stopping point in its own right, rather than somewhere pilgrims simply pass through on the way to Lugo.

An emotional moment, asking for protection.

On José’s advice we took the alternative route through the largely ruined settlement of Soutomerille to San Salvador de Soutomerille. The church is documented as early as 897 and preserves a striking pre-Romanesque window. For Lala it became one of the most emotional moments of the Camino so far. With her hands on the ancient stones, she thought of Elizabeth, a woman recently killed, and of women, children, boys and men living with violence, and quietly asked for protection for them. At that moment the purpose of our Camino Blocktober felt very real.

Sharing chainsaw art with the artist.

Later we stopped at El Descanso del Peregrino, where a local artist had turned fallen trees into carved sculptures and seats. We were offered coffee and freshly cut melon and watermelon, left a donation and were given Camino shells. The artist also asked for a photograph for Facebook, which meant Blocktober unexpectedly appeared on a local Galician Facebook page before we continued into Lugo.

9 October – O Cádavo to Vilar de Cas 17km

We deliberately split the long O Cádavo–Lugo stage, walking about 15 km to Vilar de Cas. We chose the longer Vilabade branch, passing the historic church of Santa María de Vilabade before continuing through Castroverde.

A local connection to Spain’s women’s right to vote.

In Castroverde we came across a monument to Manuel Cordero Pérez, a socialist politician and trade unionist who worked alongside Clara Campoamor in support of women’s voting rights in 1931. Opposition came from various quarters, including some progressives who feared how women might vote. From a South African perspective the timing was striking: it was another 63 years before all adult South Africans could vote together in 1994.

At A Pociña de Muñiz we met two Mexican pilgrims, and the conversation ranged from the freedom of walking without advance bookings to Mexico’s relationship with Spain, Indigenous peoples and who benefited from local mining. It was another reminder of how quickly Camino conversations can move from practicalities to history and identity.

That evening fourteen of us sat around one table for a wonderful communal meal. A Welsh couple spoke about the slow food movement and regenerative farming, avoiding supermarkets in favour of local produce, weekly food boxes, and producer co-operatives that can give small farmers a fairer share of the final price.  They pointed out symbols they recognised from Wales and possible cultural or language connections with Galicia; looking at the map, we found ourselves wondering whether this was because of the old Atlantic links from a time when travel by sea was often easier than travel over land.

8 October – A Fonsagrada to O Cádavo 26km

Parts of a dolman, over 4000 years old.

We left A Fonsagrada — literally “the sacred fountain”, a name that comes from the spring around which the town developed — and headed towards O Cádavo. On the way we stopped at La Taberna in Paradavella. Its name is deliberately spelt with a B rather than a V (from “taverna”, meaning a tavern), a playful reference to local bear sightings and the word “barna”, meaning bears. There we met the Ecuadorian owner before continuing via A Degolada, A Lastra and A Fontaneira. The route still made us work, including the steep Costa do Sapo and the high ground around Alto da Fontaneira.

Along the way were more layers of Camino history and landscape: Santiago da Fontaneira, the hill at A Pasada and Campo da Matanza — literally the “Field of Slaughter”. Our research turned up two very different explanations for the name. Local history tells of African soldiers being slaughtered there during an Islamic incursion, while historians trace the name instead to a slaughter in Roman times.

7 October – Grandas de Salime to A Fonsagrada 27km

Galicia welcomes us with rain as we cross the Asturias–Galicia border.

We left Grandas de Salime for A Fonsagrada on a long stage that carried us out of Asturias and into Galicia. Along the way we stopped at the small Ermita de San Lázaro de Padraira, a seventeenth-century chapel on the site of an old pilgrim leper hospital — another reminder of the systems of care that grew up around the Camino.

Crossing the Asturias–Galicia border was a milestone, although Galicia welcomed us with heavy rain. Almost immediately we began noticing a striking difference in how the Camino itself was maintained. On the Galician side there appeared to be much more deliberate attention to drainage and protecting the path against water erosion, whereas in Asturias we had seen very little of this. After days of rain and steep, exposed paths, the effect on both the condition of the route and the walking experience was hard to miss. We stopped at O Acebo for something to eat before continuing through the wet and cold towards A Fonsagrada. As we walked, we also reflected on how Blocktober 2026 is doing so well through collective leadership from many including Jean, Clare, Janeen, David, Janet, Peta, Trish, Stephen and Nancy. And how special to see Bernadine and Siba all smiles at the blockhouse again. 

At Casa Cuartel that evening we cooked supper in the communal kitchen and spent time with Florian, a 25-year-old German pilgrim who had lived with a family in Lebowagkomo, Polokwane, Limpopo, as an exchange student. He had progressed well in learning Sepedi to communicate with his host mother, and was sad that COVID cut the exchange short before he could learn as much as he had hoped. We talked about South Africa, apartheid, GBV, the hopes of his university years and the unfinished work that remains to build democracy in South Africa.

6 October – across the Los Hospitales route 26km

High on Los Hospitales — one of the wildest stretches of the Primitivo.

Our initial plan for Day 6 was ambitious: to walk about 40 km all the way to Grandas de Salime, if possible, because we had not been able to find accommodation before that town. The route took us onto the high, exposed Los Hospitales section. We passed the remains of the medieval pilgrim hospitals at Fonfaraón and Valparaíso, and near Laguna de la Marta encountered an even older layer of history: a small reservoir associated with Roman gold-mining works. Wild horses greeted us. 

Somewhere on that long mountain stretch, Lala saw a fallow deer leap across the path. It appeared and vanished so quickly that she felt a spirit had crossed her path. She does not yet know whose spirit it was.

From the ridge we continued via Puerto del Palo, Montefurado and Berducedo towards the Grandas de Salime area. It rained heavily and, after 26 km, Lala decided that with her knee starting to pain, pressing on would risk injury, so she called it and we took transport to Grandas de Salime. We plan to make up the lost 14 km with a future diversion to an artist retreat.

It was one of the most exposed and memorable stretches of the Camino so far, and sending our heavier luggage ahead proved a very sensible decision.


5 October — Campiello towards the Hospitales route 9km

Into the woods.

Five days of continuous walking and close to 100 km on the Camino Primitivo — the oldest of the ancient pilgrimage routes across Spain to Santiago de Compostela, followed by pilgrims since the 9th century. Today we left Campiello and passed through Borres, Samblismo and La Mortera, where the Camino divides. The legs are beginning to know that we are on pilgrimage: Lala’s knee has become painful and we have decided to send our heavier bags ahead tomorrow. Tonight we stay at Albergue Los Hospitales at Coliñas de Arriba, before continuing west towards Grandas de Salime. We had meaningful chats with pilgrims from Spain, Brazil, Finland, Sweden, Holland and UK about Blocktober and GBV. 

4 October — Tineo to Campiello, in the rain 14km

Testing the poncho — with a little MacGyver engineering underneath.

Wagon tracks made over many centuries.

Our first properly wet Camino day. We left Tineo in heavy rain, testing rain jackets, ponchos and our determination. Dawie went into full MacGyver mode, fashioning flexible little “poles” from twigs to hold the front of our ponchos away from our bodies — helping keep our clothes and shoes drier underneath. 

The rain eased later and, fortunately, the strong winds that could have made the exposed sections much more difficult did not materialise. We ended the day at Campiello, wet but still moving west.

3 October — Salas to Tineo 23

Remembering six young men killed in 1936 in Salas 

We had considered delaying our departure to experience more of the festival in Salas, but rain was forecast and we decided to walk. Ironically, by the time we reached
Tineo at about 17:00, the rain had still not arrived. Near La Espina we stopped at a memorial connected with six young men who were detained and later killed in 1936. It prompted a conversation between us about Spain’s history of repression and South Africa’s own history of people killed, disappeared or never properly accounted for.
The day also acquired a more personal drama when Dawie realised, several kilometres later, that he had lost his new prescription spectacles near El Pedregal. He backtracked and enlisted other pilgrims in the search. Rafael, who was heading back that way, promised to keep an eye out for them.

2 October — Grado to Salas 24km

Leaving a message in a pilgrim book.

Another day of green countryside, old villages, churches and conversations along the way. At the Santuario de la Virgen del Fresno we left a Blocktober card and wrote a message against gender-based violence in the pilgrim book — one small way of carrying the purpose of this walk with us.

We met Ruben, a young British pilgrim in financial services who is using a sabbatical for some remarkable journeys: he had already run from Norway to England for charity and was finishing his break by walking the Camino. We also spent time talking to Jim, an American pilgrim, about politics, society and the world we are walking through. We reached Salas for the night.

1 October — Oviedo to Grado: we start walking 27km

Setting out from Oviedo — the first yellow arrows towards Santiago de Campostela.

We finally set out from Oviedo, following the bronze shells and yellow arrows that show the way westwards towards Santiago. At the little 15th-century chapel of Santa Ana de Premoño, historically associated with a pilgrims’ hospital, we left one of our Blocktober cards.
At Paladín, beside a small river, we met a wonderfully helpful Spaniard who gave us practical advice about the Camino, accommodation and finding gluten-free food for Lala — his own daughter has coeliac disease. It was one of those unplanned conversations that is already becoming a feature of the Camino.

30 September — Oviedo: an unexpected Blocktober connection

A Blocktober conversation with Antonio at UGT in Oviedo.

Before even taking our first Camino step, Blocktober produced an unexpected connection. Walking through Oviedo, we noticed a banner at the offices of the
UGT trade union speaking out against violence against women. We went inside and met Antonio. 

With some help from live translation by our phone, what began as an unplanned visit became a substantial conversation about gender-based violence, workplace discrimination, unequal pay, women’s unpaid burden of work, migrant women and the importance of economic independence.
Antonio told us about UGT’s work and its regular public actions against gender violence, gave us information to take with us, and offered to connect us with colleagues working specifically on equality and women’s issues. It was an encouraging reminder, even before starting the Camino, of what can happen simply by noticing a sign and walking through a door.

29 September — we arrive in Oviedo

After travelling from South Africa, we arrived in Oviedo, the historic starting point of the Camino Primitivo. We had a day to recover, prepare our packs, explore the city and make the transition from months of planning the Blocktober Camino to actually being here. Two days later, the walking would begin.



Click here for Blocktober activities, blogs and more info 

Donate using this link. 

Gifts from a Birthday Block (10 October 2026)

Gifts from a Birthday Block 

Written by Nancy Richards 


There’s nowhere to hide in a Blockhouse photoshoot – especially when everyone in the line-up is singing happy birthday to yoooo! Which was a gift for meeee. But there were so many gifts on this first-of-the-month Blocktober Sunday Solidarity Walk, I’d like to share some. 

The first was arriving at the Chelmsford starting point to witness the Saartjie Bus and so many smiling faces, strong legs – pairs of two and four - and above all, support and care.





Further along, the next gift was stopping to admire the magnificent views that take away what breath you have left after the increasingly steep incline. And then there were the shady spot stops, ahhh - especially the one at that big ole’ tree just before the final ascent, as well as the even bigger one that falls at the back of the Blockhouse itself. Magic!




Of course, a special gift, as the owner of one of the four-legged pack, was to see how much the dogs were enjoying themselves – in muddy puddles, sharing shady spots, other people snacks and pats. An extra special gift for me was the young man who thoughtfully sprinkled my very hot dog with water from his own bottle, cupping some in his hand so she could drink it. And a must-mention on the four-legger front is the gift of gratitude to the friend who sat in yet another shady spot waiting with my dog, who I had temporarily mislaid. 




It was a gift indeed to see the lit-up faces of those tucking into snack packs and sharing coffee and naartjies, as well as the faces of Bernadine and Jean as they too lit-up encountering one another at the Block. While there is sometimes in life, a time to walk alone, nothing compares with walking and talking with someone else - each and every conversation is a gift, like reading a new chapter from an unknown book.






I was especially touched by the gift of the extremely smart and stylish Saartjie B Centre buff which will elevate my wardrobe no end (thank you Bernadine!), photographed amongst the spring flowers punctuating the path – and I think all of us, irrespective of age, energy and fitness levels, would agree that the closing downward slope is a matchless gift, especially knowing that you’ll soon be able to sit down and take your shoes off. 










I am in awe of all those who walked together on this day, especially those for whom it was a first – and to all those who cycled, walked or swam in solidarity, wherever you may be, what gifts you are. And to those who organized it all – respect!!

















Read more about Blocktober here blocktober.co.za

Read more blog posts https://stepsforsaartjie.blogspot.com/2025/10/read-other-steps-for-saartjie-blogs.html?m=1

Donate using this link https://www.backabuddy.co.za/campaign/blocktober-and-saartjie-baartman-centre-2026


Blocktober Camino meets with Antonio from UGT Asturias (9 October 2026)

Camino Blocktober – from South Africa to Spain, against gender-based violence.
Summary of discussion with Antonio, UGT Asturias – Oviedo, 30 September 2026


“More than 1,000 women murdered (and they are not all represented here). Less sexism + more equality = less violence.” This banner at UGT Asturias captures much of what Antonio spoke about in our interview: remembering women killed by gender-based violence, challenging the attitudes and inequalities that sustain it, and recognising that greater equality is part of preventing violence.


As part of our Camino Blocktober initiative, we met Antonio, a representative of UGT (Union of General Workers) Asturias, in Oviedo on 30 September, the day before beginning our Camino Primitivo. The purpose of the discussion was to learn about the experience of gender-based violence in Spain and Asturias.

Antonio and Lala

We explained that Blocktober is a Cape Town-based movement against gender-based violence, and that during October people walk, run, cycle and swim in solidarity with survivors and to raise awareness and funds.

Our Camino Primitivo from Oviedo to Santiago is intended to create small connections of international solidarity between organisations and individuals responding to gender-based violence.

Antonio welcomed the exchange. He provided us with information and material relating to equality and support for women and offered to pass information about Camino Blocktober to the UGT Asturias colleague responsible specifically for women's issues.

The central message we took from the discussion was simple but important: protecting women from violence requires much more than responding to an immediate crisis. Safety, psychological recovery, legal protection and economic independence all need to work together if survivors are to have genuine freedom and choices.

Gender-based violence is wider than a workplace issue

Antonio explained that UGT's work extends well beyond its traditional role of representing workers. It is also involved in issues affecting women, migrants, vulnerable people and the LGTQI community, including violence and discrimination.

He emphasised that gender inequality continues to be visible in working life. Women can still earn less than men for comparable work, while many women also continue to carry a disproportionate share of unpaid household and caring responsibilities. His view was that, although there has been progress towards equality, progress remains much too slow. 

Economic inequality, discrimination at work, dependence within households and violence are not separate problems; they can reinforce one another.

Remembering women killed by gender-based violence

Antonio described one particularly visible action in Oviedo. On the last Tuesday of every month, people gather outside the courthouse for a minute's silence in memory of women killed through gender-based violence.

He explained the importance of continuing to mark each death publicly, rather than allowing repeated killings to become something society simply becomes accustomed to. The action is both an act of remembrance and a public statement that violence against women must end.

The particular vulnerability of migrant women

A substantial part of Antonio's work involves migrants settling in Spain, and he spoke about the particular difficulties faced by migrant women. For some women, gender inequality, insecure migration circumstances and economic dependence overlap, making them especially vulnerable. In some instances, migration itself represents an attempt to obtain freedoms that were unavailable to them in their country.

His broader point was that violence against women takes very different forms in different countries and circumstances, but the underlying questions of power, dependence and women's ability to exercise control over their own lives are often strikingly similar.

Support available in Asturias

Antonio spoke about the network of institutions in Asturias that provide assistance to women experiencing gender-based violence. He referred particularly to the Instituto de la Mujer and Casa Malva. Casa Malva provides accommodation for women affected by gender-based violence, including women and their children who do not have somewhere safe to go. They provide comprehensive support including:

  • safe accommodation;
  • psychological support;
  • legal and judicial assistance;
  • help with employment; and
  • support towards becoming economically independent.

UGT works with and alongside these institutions and refers or assists women who need such support.

Economic independence as part of escaping violence

One of the strongest areas of common ground in our discussion was the importance of economic independence.

Antonio agreed that a woman may be physically able to leave an abusive relationship, but if she has no independent income, employment prospects or means of supporting herself and her children, her choices remain severely constrained. Economic dependence can therefore become one of the mechanisms that keeps women trapped in abusive circumstances.

This closely parallels the approach of the Saartjie Baartman Centre for Women and Children. The Centre provides shelter and psychosocial support, but also places considerable emphasis on skills development, employment and entrepreneurship because economic independence is an important part of building a sustainable life after abuse.

This is also why Camino Blocktober and the wider Blocktober campaign are raising funds specifically to support the economic empowerment of survivors of gender-based violence in Cape Town.

A wider international concern

Antonio also placed gender-based violence within a wider international context. We discussed increasing hostility towards women, hate speech and political currents that can undermine progress on equality and human rights.

The discussion reinforced the idea behind our Camino: while the social and institutional circumstances in Spain and South Africa are very different, violence against women is not a problem confined by national borders. There are important differences in scale, resources and support systems, but there are also strong common themes — inequality, economic dependence, discrimination, vulnerability and the need for society to refuse to normalise GBV. 


You can watch the full video interview with Antonio here.




Read more about Blocktober here blocktober.co.za

Read more blog posts https://stepsforsaartjie.blogspot.com/2025/10/read-other-steps-for-saartjie-blogs.html?m=1

Donate using this link https://www.backabuddy.co.za/campaign/blocktober-and-saartjie-baartman-centre-2026



Is this how it should be? (7 October 2026)

Is this how it should be? Five days of Camino Blocktober

Written by Lala Steyn 



I’m writing this after having experienced:

Five days of continuous walking close to 100km on the Camino Primitivo — the oldest of the ancient pilgrimage routes across Spain to the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela —  following in the footsteps of pilgrims since the 9th century. 

Foraging for food - literally through collecting walnuts, chestnuts and wild apples, and also "foraging" intellectually when trying to navigate the Spanish supermarchado (supermarkets) and menus. 

Moments of generosity such as when sheltering from rain, an elderly woman invited me in to take free apples and walnuts, or when the waiter at an albergue told me the best places to stop on the route for “sin gluten” (gluten-free) food.

Quietness when walking totally alone for kilometres (I am on this path with my husband Dawie and many other pilgrims). 

Walking at night through dark streets to drink a local Sidra (cider) alone.

Being passed by young strong women walking by themselves, who greet me with a cheerful “Buen Camino” ("Have a good Camino").

I have no fear. 

I feel safe.

I feel free. 

I feel blessed.

Is this how it is meant to be for women everywhere? For children? For all? 

I know I’m in a bubble.

I know there is gender based violence in Spain, maybe even in some of the homes I have passed. 

BUT WHY can we not make our world such, where we as women can walk freely? Yes, surely we can “be the change, that we want to see in the world.”









Join Blocktober every day in October, in solidarity with survivors of Gender Based Violence, by finding out more about our activities here and signing up to swim, run, walk or cycle here.

Enough is Enough (6 October 2026)

We Climbed Kloof Corner for Elizabeth: 

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH

Written by Andiswa Siwela | Mountaineer & Organiser, Kloof Corner Climb Against GBV  19 September 2026 | Kloof Corner, Table Mountain



On the 19th of September as mountaineers we climbed Kloof Corner Mountain.

We did not climb alone. We intentionally invited beginners and people who had never been on the mountain before. We wanted to show that this fight belongs to everyone.

Look at us in this photo we are not the same age, same race or same fitness level but we sat on those rocks together because we share the same fear and the same hope.

Why We Climbed

We climbed because of Gender-Based Violence.

We climbed for Elizabeth who was murdered and for eight other women who were murdered. We climbed to say ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.

We wanted to remind Government that they must start taking us seriously as people, especially as women. GBV is more publicised when it affects women but men are also being murdered and often their cases are not loud enough. This is a human crisis, not just a women's crisis.

Why The Mountain

We chose the mountain to remind everyone who loves to walk, run and hike. 

Please do not walk alone.

1. Always tell at least two people where you are going.

2. Use safety devices and apps that share your live location and can send an alert.

3. Update your people whenever you can.

But this is not the life we want, we want to be free, we want to walk without fear.

Right now we live in fear we are scared to walk outside we ask ourselves, "When am I next?" Because it was someone else yesterday we don't know when it will be our day. This fear is making us lose our trust and we don't want to lose our kindness because of people who kill.

The mountain was about saying we will not lose our kindness but we must be more safe and communicate better.

Our Call to Government

Government is ignoring us they are not acting. They are not taking real action to stop what is happening they only react to what they hear on the news and then they stop. They are not doing the work they are not working hard enough to protect us.

This climb was to help each other to love each other and to remind everyone that this fight is not for one person, not for one race it is for every human being.

We need action not just words.

For Elizabeth. We climbed for you. We will not forget.

#EnoughIsEnough #StopGBV #KloofCorner #WeClimbForHer

In the wake of the murders of women on the East Rand in September 2026, groups of women across South Africa joined together in protest at this scourge. 

Join Blocktober every day in October, in solidarity with survivors of Gender Based Violence, by finding out more about our activities here and signing up to swim, run, walk or cycle here.

Donate using this link https://www.backabuddy.co.za/campaign/blocktober-and-saartjie-baartman-centre-2026

Read other blogs in this series https://stepsforsaartjie.blogspot.com/2025/10/read-other-steps-for-saartjie-blogs.html?m=1

Sunday Solidarity walk 1 (4 October 2026)

Sunday walk with Saartje Baartman Centre

Perfect windless weather this morning made great conditions for our group of about twenty-five Blocktober and Saartjie Baartman walkers to feel safe enough, strong enough and free enough to walk together to the Blockhouse. Something like the weaving together of the braids on the mural at Saartjie Baartman Centre. We enjoyed many conversations giving insight into each other's lives, meetings with new and old connections, an encouragement up the hill for those who were doing it for the first time, a retelling of the challenges of previous walks like the uphill of Platteklip Gorge and a singing of happy birthday at the top. 






The original image of the mural has been printed onto dark blue for a buff,
soon obtainable from Saartjie Baartman Centre as part
of their Entrepreneurship Hub, which is supported by fundraising by Blocktober.


Donate using this link https://www.backabuddy.co.za/campaign/blocktober-and-saartjie-baartman-centre-2026

Read other blogs in this series https://stepsforsaartjie.blogspot.com/2025/10/read-other-steps-for-saartjie-blogs.html?m=1










We cannot look away...this is on all of us ( 1 October 2026)

We cannot look away... this is on all of us


by Jean du Plessis, 27 September 2026






The terrible truth takes time to sink in. That ghost voice echoing in your mind. Please, no, this

cannot be true. Not to her. Not to anybody, of course; but especially not to her! Surely, “no”

meant “no”. Surely, “please, no, you are hurting me” also meant “no”, yet more urgently,

desperately. Surely the scream would have been enough to make him stop?


It did not. It happened. A friendly date gone horribly wrong, way past second, even third base, in

spite of her repeated refusal. An ordeal to wish on no-one, leaving her with a multitude of dark

future minutes, hours, days, months, years to come. Dodging all the terrible triggers, trying to

learn how to cope with the memory of being violently taken by a friend you assumed could be

trusted.


Her young world, that colourful universe of curiosity, awe and wonder, brutally and irrevocably

ripped to pieces in those quick, awful few moments that felt like a lifetime.


One of many real-life scenarios that play out daily in our country, in different forms and at an

unbelievably high frequency. By 2020 an average of 50 000 rape cases per year were being

reported in South Africa, that is almost 150 per day – five times the global average – with only

about 14% of reported cases reaching trial, of which just 7% are successful. Given that many

cases are never even reported, these numbers are frightening, and not improving.


The scourge continues, with public attention periodically aroused, in successive waves of

frustrated, futile fury. Here we are, yet again. This time reading about the horrific deaths of nine

women in Ekurhuleni, east of Johannesburg. Our anger and frustration are justified. The various

declarations of swift action we hear in the media are, in most cases, sincere. Yet the hard truth weall know is that the battle is by no means being won.


There are good strategies and solid initiatives underway, some of which have been used to fight

the scourge for years. Yet it is difficult to know what has to be done to end this ongoing,

seemingly unstoppable epidemic of gender-based violence, instead of just trying to mitigate it.


GBV is our bellwether


It was encouraging to hear our President respond to the Ekurhuleni deaths with beautiful words.

Yet it is troubling that we have heard it all so many times before. Reminiscent, in fact of the

“Thoughts and Prayers” routinely rolled out whenever there is another mass shooting incident in

the USA:


“I speak for all of us as I extend my deepest condolences to all families and communities

affected by the killing of women recently found in and around Kempton Park.”                        

“I have spoken to the Minister of Police and the Acting National Police Commissioner, who

have briefed me on the investigation. I have directed that these cases be prioritised and that no stone be left unturned in bringing those responsible to justice.”                                  

“As a nation, we must stand up for the rights, safety and dignity of women and girls."           

“As we do so, our hearts go out to all the families affected by the terrible events in the

Kempton Park area.” 1

We know he has made these promises before. As have the South African Police Services. The task of bringing the numbers down significantly is daunting, and made all the more so by widespread bungling of live GBV cases by both the State and SAPS. It is time for them todramatically up their game, and for us to support and hold them accountable for the results.

We can weep our tears and gnash our teeth, yet the bitter truth is that this is on us. It is for us all

to help fix. We cannot keep pretending not to know that up to half of all rape incidents in South

Africa are committed in familiar homes, by people known to the victims.2 If we genuinely do not

know such important facts, we urgently need to start educating ourselves.


GBV is our bellwether. Every adult in our country has to face up to the fact that we have to be

part of concerted action towards a solution; and has to realize that, if we cannot fix this problem,

we are unlikely to be able to fix anything. Our people are the foundation of our future, and GBV

is tearing us apart.


Springbok Rugby captain Siya Kolisi definitely “gets” this:


“Gender-based violence in our country has been going on for far too long. It’s been going on for so many years, it’s an everyday thing. It’s not just because of the headlines right now, but this happens each and every single day in our country. […] To the men of our country, we need to acknowledge that we are the problem here, and we need help urgently, because without us getting help, this is going to continue.”

So, what can we do? The best is to be proactive and focus on the local. Kolisi advises men to start having conversations with their mates:

“If what is happening in our country is not hurting you as a human being … as a man, how am I going to answer to my sister and daughter. Also, I will be failing my son by not educating myself and making sure that I’m better so that he does not go through the same problems I am going through.” 3


Blocktober


What we have been doing since 2020 in the Blocktober movement against gender-based violence is to actively demonstrate solidarity with survivors of gender-based violence. Our aims are to support organisations working with GBV survivors, to raise awareness amongst participants and the public about the scourge, to undertake activities (in particular solidarity mountain walks and other forms of exercise) with survivors, and to raise funds for the Saartjie Baartman Centre for Women and Children (SBC) in Manenberg.


We also have global supporters, in particular in Kenya, whom we encourage to similarly raise

awareness and funds locally.


This all started as just a few people cycling from Newlands up to the King’s Blockhouse, located

just below Devil’s Peak (climbing 500 metres over a distance of 20 km). The idea was to do this

every day of October, and in the process to rename the month “Blocktober”. We were soon joined by walkers and runners, and later also ocean swimmers.


Our initial rides were in solidarity with one particular survivor who had bravely decided to lay a

charge against the person who had raped her, though as the movement grew the number of

individual causes quickly grew with it.


That case dragged out for so long (a classic instance of “punishment by process” of the survivor)

that the rides continued for 200 days, much longer than the month of Blocktober.


Since those early days the movement has grown stronger, year after year, undertaking a variety of initiatives and activities.


In 2023 Cally Silberbauer cycled solo for 6000 km from Cape Town to Kilimanjaro, raising

awareness of GBV and raising funds for the Saartjie Baartman Centre. In August and September

2025, Blocktober collaborated with the Sports Science Institute’s Community Health Intervention

Programme (CHIPs) to establish one of their Optifit branches at the SBC.


Since then a weekly community exercise programme at the centre has successfully promoted the health and well-being of the SBC community, survivors as well as staff. In October 2025,

participants made 430 walking ascents to the King’s Blockhouse, cumulatively walking about

3225 km — roughly the distance from Cape Town to Blantyre, Malawi - in addition to cycling,

running and swimming activities.


Through these ongoing initiatives and activities Blocktober has over the years galvanised

community action and raised significant funds in support of SBC’s expansion of its

Entrepreneurial Hub. Financial dependence can make it much harder for women to leave – or stay out of – abusive relationships. The SBC Entrepreneurial Hub helps GBV survivors to build

income, confidence and greater independence through employment and enterprise opportunities.


Six years since we first rode up to the King's Blockhouse in quiet solidarity with a woman whose

"no" was ignored, GBV is still here. Which means the mountain is still there, too. The walks,

runs, cycles and swims continue — and there is always room in the movement for one more person who has decided that rage alone is no longer enough.





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