On 2 January 2024 the body of 68-year-old Janice Walker was found in her home at the corner of King and Sandy streets in Urangan, Queensland. It’s suspected Janice was killed by her partner, who also ended his own life.
Janice was the first woman to be allegedly killed this year of a total of 98 so far, according to Australian Femicide Watch, which was founded by the journalist and researcher Sherele Moody.
As 2024 comes to a close and we wind our way through December, a time of year when domestic and family violence rates traditionally escalate, we will no doubt add to these numbers. It’s no understatement to say that 2024 has been a horror year in terms of femicide.
I have deliberately chosen to start this reflection on the year that was with Walker’s name because I think it is important that we centre the women and children who have paid the highest price for our collective failure to end this scourge.
Elisabeth Armitage, the Northern Territory coroner who last month handed down the findings from her year-long coronial inquest into the deaths of four Aboriginal women, made a similar point. As I read Armitage’s report, what struck me was her insistence that we “bear witness” to each and every woman’s death.
Her report found that 87 women have been killed by their domestic partners since 2000 in the Northern Territory and at least 82 of those women were Aboriginal.
Acknowledging that these passages of her report contained “graphic details” that would probably “cause distress”, Armitage wrote that she “wanted to publicly acknowledge as many of these women as I can, and in doing so, to highlight the horrifying reality of domestic violence killing in the Northern Territory”.
What followed was 16 pages devoted to the harrowing circumstances of each woman’s death. It is relentless, heartbreaking and, as the coroner emphasised, preventable “if we do not look away, and act”.
To Armitage’s point about not looking away and acting, this year has also seen Australia pause to mark the 50th anniversary of several landmark moments in its now five decades-long struggle to eradicate men’s violence against women. This included the 50th anniversary of the establishment of Elsie, Australia’s first domestic violence refuge, in March, and the 50th anniversary of the establishment of the Sydney rape crisis centre in October, Australia’s first.
In between these two milestone anniversaries, as it was revealed that the murder rate had escalated (indeed, in April the Australian Institute of Criminology released the latest findings from the national homicide monitoring program which found that the intimate partner homicide rate had increased by 28% in a single year), politicians, experts, frontline workers and survivor advocates gathered for “crisis talks”, dedicated national cabinet meetings, a “rapid review” of prevention efforts, and most notably took to the streets alongside tens of thousands of everyday Australians for another historic “Women’s March”.
As I wrote at the start of this year, inevitably, big anniversaries prompt deep reflection: how far have we come, and how far do we have yet to go? Women are still dying. Why, five decades on, are we still here?
I wish – after a year in which I’ve observed, up close, many of those key activities as a journalist with a specific focus on domestic and family violence – I had an answer.
What I do have is this personal reflection from the domestic, family and sexual violence commissioner Micaela Cronin’s crisis talks, held in Canberra in May. I had the great privilege of attending those talks as one of only two journalists permitted to observe the proceedings from inside the room.
As I drove past Parliament House early in the morning en route to the crisis talks, I was reminded of another time nine years ago when I came to Canberra at a time when there was also heightened national interest in domestic and family violence. I was there to support the then Australian of the Year, Rosie Batty, as she delivered her first speech to the National Press Club.
That morning I met the legendary advocate Ann O’Neill for the first time. Ann had flown out from Western Australia to support Rosie – they share such a tragic bond, both losing children to men’s violence.
As we drove onwards in a taxi to the National Press Club, Ann asked the driver to pull over so we could get a photo as the sun rose with Parliament House behind us. “Come on,” Ann said, “you have to capture these moments”.
I thought about this as I travelled to the crisis talks and I wondered if we were in the midst of another “moment”. And I wondered if this would be “the” moment – the tipping point that translates into real change. I was acutely aware that we had been here before.
And then I arrived at the crisis talks and saw other survivor advocates and, quite frankly, I got a bit teary.
So, as we approach the end of this horror year, a year that has been draining and soul-destroying for so many, I just want to pause and also urge us to “bear witness” to the dogged determination of frontline workers, survivor advocates, academics and so many others. They keep showing up – again and again. In all the big moments and all the little moments in between.
Will 2024 go down in the history books as the year we turned a corner? Only if, to once again use the words of Armitage, we don’t look away, and act. And only if we follow the lead of the many who have always lived by those words.
Kristine Ziwica is a Melbourne-based columnist and consultant
In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is on 13 11 14 and the national family violence counselling service is on 1800 737 732. In the UK, Samaritans can be contacted on freephone 116 123 and the domestic abuse helpline is 0808 2000 247. In the US, the suicide prevention lifeline is 988 and the domestic violence hotline is 1-800-799-SAFE (7233). Other international helplines can be found via www.befrienders.org
