A Spotlight on Mazeeda Karani, Child Care and Protection Social Worker at Rape Crisis
Every day, Mazeeda Karani carries stories that many find too painful to imagine—stories woven with harm, silence, resilience, and survival. Now in her fourth year with Rape Crisis, she has been a steady and compassionate presence, serving as the Child Care and Protection Social Worker across the three Thuthuzela Care Centres (TCCs) we support: Victoria Hospital, Karl Bremer Hospital, and Heideveld Hospital. In these spaces, she walks alongside child survivors of sexual violence, gently guiding them through the complex and often overwhelming process of healing. But this is not happening in a vacuum. South Africa’s pervasive culture of violence and aggression has created a landscape where sexual violence is far too common, and where children’s safety is continuously threatened.
We are sitting in a dire situation. Over a six-year period—from 2018/2019 to 2023/2024—more than 106 000 cases of child rape were reported in South Africa – a statistic sourced from a parliamentary question highlighted in an October 2024 press release. That’s an average of 48 children raped every day. During the same period, over 22 000 cases of child sexual assault were recorded—an average of 10 children sexually assaulted each day. These figures are horrifying in their magnitude, but they represent only the tip of the iceberg. Many children never get the chance to speak out, trapped in silence by fear, shame, or the absence of safe spaces to disclose. The true scale of this crisis is far greater than the numbers suggest. It’s not just a crisis—it’s an emergency we cannot afford to ignore.
Mazeeda’s work is rooted in creating safety, support, and hope for children facing unimaginable circumstances. “I see children from birth to 18 years, often referred from schools, hospitals, or directly from their homes or foster care,” she shares. “I provide family counselling, work with siblings who may also be affected, and help children navigate the immediate and long-term effects of abuse.” Siblings, especially, carry their own trauma—sometimes acting as protectors, other times blaming themselves. Children in foster care face additional vulnerabilities, navigating new environments while processing deep wounds. Mazeeda ensures these children are not overlooked.
Her role is critical in South Africa’s broader child protection system, which she acknowledges faces significant challenges. “We’re dealing with low funding, social workers who are burnt out, and a lack of resources, which leaves children and families in uncertainty,” Mazeeda says. “But my work provides some stability—especially for children going through transitions, like being removed from harmful situations or dealing with the trauma of a family member being arrested.” Systemic delays—like waiting months for forensic assessments or enduring long-drawn-out justice processes—can retraumatise survivors and erode trust. Many children, Mazeeda says, feel like they’ve been left in limbo, with no clarity or closure. It’s another layer of harm that must be addressed if we’re serious about protecting children.
“Children carry more than we realise,” she continues. “They carry pain in their silence, in their play, and in how they move through the world after something traumatic has happened to them.” Her work is grounded in patience, empathy, and the understanding that healing for children is never linear. It requires deep trust and a willingness to meet them on their terms. “You can’t sit across a table and expect a child to talk the way an adult would,” she says. “It’s about entering their world, paying attention to their cues, and creating a space where they feel seen, heard, and safe.” Through play-based techniques, storytelling, and non-verbal expressions, Mazeeda creates an environment where children can begin to process their experiences without pressure or fear.
South Africa’s pervasive culture of violence and aggression adds layers of complexity to child protection work. “Children who have been sexually abused are particularly vulnerable,” Mazeeda notes. “There’s a lack of awareness in communities about sexual violence, which means we’re often dealing with children who’ve been exposed to harmful behaviours, either directly or through older peers, and who are now modelling those behaviours in their own lives.” She highlights how platforms like social media and gaming are introducing harmful sexual content to children at a young age. “Education on prevention and awareness is crucial—not just in schools but also in families. We need to build an environment where children understand healthy boundaries and behaviours.”
At the TCCs, Mazeeda witnesses firsthand the human stories behind the statistics—children from diverse backgrounds, each carrying invisible scars, and families grappling with the aftermath of violence. Access to care, she explains, remains one of the biggest challenges. “For many families, just getting to the TCC is a challenge in itself. They may travel long distances, navigate unfamiliar systems, and arrive in a space that feels cold and clinical. That’s why our presence is so important. We offer consistency, warmth, and a sense of safety in an otherwise overwhelming environment.” Mazeeda is also clear about what survivors need most from the adults in their lives: to be believed. “Belief is the first form of safety,” she says. “When a child discloses abuse, they’re not just sharing a fact—they’re asking: Do you see me? Do you believe me? Can I trust you to protect me? How we respond shapes their entire healing journey.”
Despite the emotional weight of her work, Mazeeda finds strength in the small moments that reveal a child’s resilience. “It’s heavy, but it’s also a privilege,” she says. “These children teach me about strength and courage in ways I never expected. When a child laughs again, draws something hopeful, or asks to come back to see us—that’s when I know this work is making a difference. Those moments keep me going.” Her work also brings a profound understanding of the weight of silence and stigma surrounding sexual violence. “One of the biggest challenges is that some communities still view abuse as a private matter, or blame the child or family for what happened,” she says. “There’s still too much shame, and not enough support. We need to shift the narrative—to move from blame and secrecy to safety and accountability.”
As we mark Child Protection Week, Mazeeda’s message is both urgent and hopeful: “Don’t wait for a campaign or a headline to protect children. Start by listening to them, by creating spaces where they feel safe, and by believing them when they speak. It’s not just the responsibility of professionals—it’s on all of us.” She urges adults to be vigilant for signs of abuse. “Children may become withdrawn, isolated, or exhibit poor self-care. Others might act out disruptively, seeking attention but unable to articulate what’s wrong. If a child discloses abuse, it’s crucial to listen, be supportive, reassure them it’s not their fault, and report it immediately. Reporting isn’t optional—it’s a legal and moral responsibility.”
This Child Protection Week, let’s all take responsibility. Whether you’re a parent, educator, neighbour, or friend, your actions can create ripples of safety and support for the children around you. Stand with survivors. Speak out. Build a world where every child can feel safe, heard, and valued. If you or someone you know needs support, Rape Crisis is here to help. Our 24-hour helpline is always open: 021 447 9762. Your courage is met with compassion, and no one has to face this alone. Let’s work together to break the silence and create a society where every child’s voice is heard. Let’s build a future where no child has to face this journey alone.
