Violence against women is a paradox of the human condition. Consider this: we instinctively protect our mothers, sisters, and daughters and yet some of us become impervious to the suffering of other women, mothers of our children included, unable to extend the same care and sensitivity.Marital and other forms of gender-based violence are so widespread globally that the United Nations decided that November 25 should be observed as the International Day to End Violence Against Women.Global estimates point to at least 70 per cent of women experiencing violence at some point in their life, and women and girls accounting for around 80 per cent of people trafficked into slavery, forced labour, servitude, and prostitution.Much closer to home, a 2008 report by the Federation of Kenyan Lawyers indicated that 80 per cent of perpetrators of gender-based violence (GBV) are men.In Rwanda, according to a recent story carried by this paper, defilement, rape, and assault are the most commonly reported GBV cases. Between 2011 and 2012, a little over 7,000 cases of GBV were reported to the authorities. Ironically, some women accept violence against them as normal. According to Ms. Rose Rwabuhihi, the Chief Gender Monitor at the Gender Monitoring Office, "some women think that their husbands have the right to beat them for not cooking food.” In other words, some of them don’t believe they are victims.How this vice continues to persist in Rwanda poses a conundrum. The country has established a legal and institutional framework, which theoretically, should eliminate the practice. Parliament, the National Women Council, the Gender Monitoring Office, among others, are some of its components. The law to curb GBV was passed in 2009.Similarly, no one could claim that the political commitment to gender empowerment in general, and to fighting gender based violence, in particular, is lacking. The overwhelming majority (64 per cent) of Rwanda’s parliamentarians are women. The future also points to more women in leadership, as the recent elections of the leadership of the ruling party’s (RPF) national youth committee showed. Four of the six vacant positions, including its presidency, went to women.So why is the abuse persistent and where are all these ‘empowered women’ in this fight? I am not trying to suggest that fighting gender-based violence should be the responsibility of women alone. However, as Ms. Rose Rwabuhihi recently pointed out in these pages in response to a question about the impact women will have in parliament, "We believe women will be much more sensitive than their male counterparts in the legislative assembly when it comes to laws that may have discriminatory clauses.” To paraphrase her, more than men, women are expected to feel the pain for their sisters.The proper entry point to understanding what is going on is by tracing the pursuit of gender equality in Rwanda. By and large, it has been the product of "the system” in place, not that of a protracted women’s struggle. This is despite the gallant efforts of the late Aloysea Inyumba. Unwittingly, "the system” pre-empted the need for the emergence of an active women’s movement.Women’s gains in political representation are a clear testament to the power of ‘the system,’ so much so that right after the recent parliamentary elections, some men could be heard grumbling about ‘the injustice of replacing one form of domination with another.’ But as we all know, with political power comes responsibility. Which is why some argue that women in positions of power ought to use it to mobilise fellow women, after all political representation was intended to lead to women empowerment.Similarly, women were expected to use their power to create forums through which understanding between men and women on issues such as GBV would be enhanced. When the harm (physical and psychological) and the benefits (productivity, family bond, and companionship) to the family are made clear, the argument goes, most men will change. It is a gamble women leaders should be willing to take.The history of liberation is littered with examples of transforming former tormentors into liberators. Many are to be found, for example, in the American experience against slavery, in the civil rights movement, and in our very own anti-apartheid struggle.If, indeed, the issue is patriarchal power, the first lesson of power is that it concedes nothing without a demand, to paraphrase Frederick Douglass, the former black American slave and freedom fighter. The second lesson about power is that those who are perceived to possess it must be convinced with reason that they are on the wrong side of history and that they are better off changing course.To be fair, the changes we are calling for require a mindset shift in society, which will require no less than a generational shift. However, that shouldn’t keep us from getting the process underway and, most importantly, having the right actors lead from the front.