When family honour becomes a burden - IOL

The writer says Heritage Day and National Braai Day traditions give families a moment to pause and look honestly at the parts of their heritage that do not always serve them well, including how one quiet, unspoken idea still shapes many women’s lives: the pressure of “family honour”.

ALTHOUGH our heritage is rich and meaningful, it becomes even more powerful when we allow it to evolve. When we choose honesty over silence, equality over expectation, and dignity over reputation, we create a heritage that truly honours everyone.

This Heritage Month, I hope we do not only celebrate where we come from but also where we are going, toward families that uplift women, communities that protect them, and traditions that evolve with love rather than fear. Because honour should never hurt and heritage should never hold us back.

In South African Indian homes, it’s often a mix of braai smoke and breyani steam. Old-school music playing in the background and cousins visiting with foil-wrapped trays of food. It is a day that reminds us of where we come from and how much our traditions have carried us through.

But Heritage Day and the popular National Braai Day tradition also give us a moment to pause and look honestly at the parts of our heritage that do not always serve us well. In my experience as a human rights lawyer working closely with women and families, I have witnessed how one quiet, unspoken idea still shapes many women’s lives: the pressure of “family honour”.

It is not something we talk about openly. No one sits a daughter down and says, “Your choices must protect our reputation.” Yet the message is there, tucked into comments, expectations, and silences.

It shows up when a woman is told to stay in a difficult marriage because “people will talk”. It appears when a mother is discouraged from reporting abuse because it will “bring shame”. It is present when a daughter is urged to forgive behaviour that has deeply hurt her, simply because “we don’t expose family issues”.

Over the years, I have been approached by women who carry this burden quietly. One young woman told me she wanted to leave her emotionally abusive marriage but feared being judged by her community. Another said she felt trapped between her safety and her parents’ reputation. A mother once confided that she had endured years of mistreatment because she didn’t want her children to grow up hearing that their family had “failed”.

These stories are not rare. They are whispered versions of the same theme: that a woman’s dignity is negotiable if it protects the family’s image.

As someone who works daily with the Domestic Violence Act, the Children’s Act, and the constitutional rights to equality and dignity, I often see how cultural pressure can override legal protection.

Women will tell me, “I know I can get a protection order, but I do not want to embarrass my family.” Others say, “I know the law is on my side, but I don’t want to be the one who breaks the peace.” The law gives women tools, but culture sometimes takes away permission to use them.

I have seen women stay in marriages that drain them completely. Not because they lack courage, but because they fear being labelled disrespectful or ungrateful. I have met daughters told to “adjust” or “tolerate” behaviour that chips away at their confidence. I have seen mothers carry the emotional weight of entire households, smoothing over conflicts and absorbing criticism, because they believe it is their duty to keep the peace.

One woman once told me, “I feel like I am the glue holding everyone together, but no one notices when I’m cracking.” Her words have stayed with me because they reflect a truth many women live quietly: that the emotional labour of maintaining family harmony often falls on them alone.

The pressure to present an ideal life, marriage, home, and children has intensified with the rise of social media. In my work, I have noticed extended families using WhatsApp groups to criticise, compare, or shame others.

I have witnessed disputes escalate as gossip spreads more rapidly than facts. I have also seen women subjected to cyber-harassment by relatives who believe they have the right to comment on their lives. In several instances, I have explained to clients that certain forms of harassment by family members, including conduct covered by South Africa’s harassment laws, can have legal consequences even when they occur within a so-called “family group”.

These behaviours do not constitute heritage. They represent surveillance disguised as concern.

This inequity is compounded by the fact that “family honour” is seldom a collective responsibility. Men are not subjected to the same level of scrutiny for their mistakes or choices. In contrast, women are expected to maintain the family’s reputation through silence, sacrifice, and self-control. Honour thus becomes a burden borne primarily by women.

However, honour should not require women to diminish themselves, nor should heritage demand their silence.

Heritage Day, whether observed around a braai stand or a dining table, provides an opportunity to reconsider the values we wish to transmit.

We can preserve the positive aspects of our culture, its food, music, spirituality, and resilience, while choosing not to perpetuate harmful traditions. We can teach our daughters that their worth is not contingent upon obedience or endurance. We can teach our sons that respect is demonstrated through compassion rather than control. We can show our families that dignity should never be exchanged for acceptance.

We must also remember that the Constitution, which forms the foundation of our democracy, safeguards women’s rights to equality, dignity, and freedom and security of the person, including protection from violence. These rights are neither Western ideas nor recent innovations. They are part and parcel of our national heritage too.

On Heritage Day, let’s celebrate not just our past, but also our future.

Let’s work toward families that support women, communities that keep them safe, and customs that grow from compassion instead of pressure.

If honour demands silence or suffering, it is no longer honour.

Heritage should free us, not restrain us.

We must also remember that the Constitution, which forms the foundation of our democracy, safeguards women’s rights to equality, dignity, and freedom and security of the person, including protection from violence. These rights are neither Western ideas nor recent innovations. They are part and parcel of our national heritage too.

Seshni Moodley is an admitted attorney, director of Seshni Moodley attorneys incorporated , with expertise in digital, civil and criminal law. She holds a Master's in human rights law and is currently pursuing her PhD in human rights law.

* The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL or post.co.za