She is 23 and she is the 34th woman this year to be murdered, police allege, in domestic violence in Australia. These are numbers meticulously kept by the Counting Dead Women Campaign. It happened in Mullumbimby on an ordinary Friday night. It happened in our town, in a community where you should be safe. Where we know our neighbours. Where we protest for peace. Where we have painted placards in our town hall and marched against violence. But we are not immune. The epidemic of relationship violence, of dead women, is real.
Police allege this sweet girl was murdered, her life taken. The allegations are yet to be proven in court but, if true, how can that happen at home? How can she be lost? Domestic violence means our homes are more dangerous than our streets. The place where we should feel safe is the place where we are more likely to be murdered. It means as women we literally have nowhere to go.
How does it get to this? I have asked this question so many times. I have stood in front of protests and vigils and marches and demanded an end. But how do we do this? How do we keep women and children safe? How do we reach a point where we no longer have to talk about safety?
I have lived in domestic violence, as a child and in my early adulthood. On reflection of her Friday night I remembered the fear. There is this moment, when an ordinary evening turns sour. When small irritations escalate, and the risk becomes catastrophic. You can feel it. I remember in one incident running from my home, with my violent partner pursuing me down the street. He was in a rage. It was Jekyll and Hyde. The person I knew had disappeared and a monster had taken his place. I knew in an instant that if I didn’t get out he would kill me. His hands had been around my throat, I’d broken free and bolted.
A car was parked in the street, where a woman sat reading. I jumped in her car and I screamed, ‘Drive! Fucking drive’. My dress was ripped. I had a black eye and a busted lip. And he was nearly at the car. The woman was reading poetry, waiting for a friend. She saw the monster. She freaked out and she drove.
She dropped me at a friend’s house. I had made it to safety but I wasn’t safe. Days later I went back. He was sorry. He would change. I had hope. Hope kills. The wisest thing someone ever said to me was ‘bury hope’. It was a man who said that to me. He also said, ‘You will leave when the pain of staying becomes greater than the pain of leaving.’ Those words stuck with me. They were difficult and true. I am telling you this because I know what it is to love your captor. To stay in danger. I was lucky that I got to leave. Some will never get that chance.
I do not know her name. I do not know her story. But I know she was a daughter, a sister, a friend. She was part of our community. She mattered.
There is no space in relationships for violence. No hand should be at your throat. You should not be pushed or shoved. No punching. No slapping. No threats. No verbal abuse. No fear for your life. No alienation from friends or family. No one should control who you see, what you spend, where you go. That is not love. That is psychopathy.
We can’t stop intimate partner violence without strong government policy. Strong policy means that the safety of women and children is front and centre. That services are fully funded. That there is somewhere to go. That programs exist to address male violence. That we understand that gendered violence starts when we are small. It is the foundation stone of the patriarchy. And until we address the violence of broken power structures – we will continue to be killed.
Girls of 23 should not be murdered on a Friday night in Mullumbimby.
We should be safe at every age, on every night, in every town. It’s not up to someone else.
It starts with us.
There will be a vigil for this young woman at 5pm on Friday 26 September, at Heritage Park, 5 Mill St, Mullumbimby. Also on Wednesday, 22 October at 6pm at The Quad in Lismore there is a Reclaim The Night March for our region.
Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox column has appeared in The Echo for almost 23 years. The personal and the political often meet here; she’s also been the Greens federal candidate since before the last two federal elections. The Echo’s coverage of political issues will remain as comprehensive and fair as it has ever been, outside this opinion column which, as always, contains Mandy’s personal opinions only.
For four decades The Echo has printed the stories some people loved, some people hated, and some pretended not to read. If you want us to keep telling the truth, the real truth, not the sugar-coated version. We’ll need your support to keep the presses rolling. 
