JOINT PRESS STATEMENT | SHE SURVIVED WAR. SHE SURVIVED FLIGHT. NOW SOUTH AFRICA MUST DECIDE WHETHER IT WILL PROTECT HER

Date: 15/07/2026


ISLA and LHR challenged the unlawful rejection of a Congolese survivor’s asylum claim on the International Day for the Elimination of Sexual Violence in Conflict — and named what the asylum system refuses to see.

On 19 June 2026, the International Day for the Elimination of Sexual Violence in Conflict, the Initiative for Strategic Litigation in Africa (ISLA) and Lawyers for Human Rights (LHR) approached the Gauteng Local Division of the High Court, Pretoria, in the matter of a Congolese woman from South Kivu who survived sustained sexual violence at the hands of armed forces in the Democratic Republic of Congo — and then survived it again, at the hands of border officials, in Burundi, Tanzania and Mozambique as she fled. She came to South Africa seeking protection. The asylum system told her she was not credible.

We filed on 19 June because this case could not wait. It could not wait because she had been waiting for more than two decades. And it could not wait because on that day — a day the United Nations established to bear witness to the use of sexual violence as a weapon of war — the least we could do was name what happened to her, and name what the system did with it.

THE VIOLENCE SHE FLED

She is a woman from South Kivu, in the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo — a region that has been continuously devastated by armed conflict, multiple warring factions, and the systematic use of sexual violence against civilians for more than thirty years. In South Kivu, rape is not incidental to conflict. It has been documented by the United Nations, the African Union, and international human rights bodies as a deliberate weapon of war: a tool for the destruction of communities, the breaking of families, and the subordination of women’s bodies to the logic of armed violence.

She was subjected to repeated and serious sexual violence by soldiers. The attacks were part of a broader, documented pattern of atrocity in the region. She survived. She gathered her children. And she fled — not because she chose to leave, but because remaining was incompatible with life.

The violence did not end at the border. Fleeing through a neighbouring country, she encountered border officials who subjected her to sexual exploitation as a condition of not being returned across the border. Officials who were supposed to protect displaced persons, who wore the authority of the state, instead wielded that authority to abuse a woman who had nowhere else to go. She survived that too.

“The violence I endured was not isolated but occurred within the broader pattern of abuses committed against civilians in conflict-affected areas.” — First Applicant, Founding Affidavit

WHAT THE ASYLUM SYSTEM DID NEXT

She arrived in South Africa around 2006/2007. She did not speak English. She found her way to the Department of Home Affairs in Durban, alone, and was told to come back when she had found someone to help her communicate. She came back. She told her story. She told it again at a later interview. She told it a third time, years later, before the Refugee Appeals Authority.

The Refugee Appeals Authority of South Africa upheld the rejection of her asylum claim. It concluded that her evidence was “mobile” — that it “changed from one interview to another.” It found that she had not “consistently, plausibly and credibly” established her claim. It made no finding, in any form that appears from the record, that adequately engaged with the sexual violence she experienced as a recognised form of persecution under the Refugees Act and international law. It said she was not credible.

Feminist legal scholars and international refugee law practitioners have spent decades documenting what this looks like. Survivors of sexual violence and torture frequently present inconsistent accounts — not because they are lying, but because of the neurological and psychological effects of trauma on memory and recall. An asylum seeker who experienced multiple incidents of sexual violence over an extended period, who fled her country in fear for her life, who did not speak the language of the country where she sought protection, who was interviewed without adequate gender-sensitive procedures, and who was doing so years after the events in question — that asylum seeker will present an account that is not perfectly consistent. Penalising her for that inconsistency is not neutral adjudication. It is the replication of the harm.

A SYSTEM THAT DID NOT SEE HER

The asylum system was not designed with her in mind. Its interview procedures, its credibility standards, its evidentiary frameworks, and its understanding of what a “genuine” refugee looked like were developed through the experiences of a paradigmatic refugee who is implicitly male — who fled persecution as an individual political actor, whose account was expected to be temporally precise, locationally specific, and doctrinally linear.

That framework was inadequate for the adjudication of gender-based persecution claims for reasons that were well established in both UNHCR guidance and academic literature, and which have been recognised by the CEDAW Committee in General Recommendations 32 and 33.

Gender-based persecution — including sexual violence by armed actors in conflict — constituted a recognised form of persecution under the Refugees Act. The Maputo Protocol, to which South Africa was a signatory, obliged the state to “protect asylum seeking women, refugees, returnees and internally displaced persons, against all forms of violence, rape and other forms of sexual exploitation.” The UNHCR’s Guidelines on International Protection on Gender-Related Persecution provided that decision-makers had to apply a gender-sensitive approach that accounted for the specific ways in which women experience persecution, flight, and the impact of trauma on their ability to give evidence. South Africa had not applied these frameworks to her case. It applied a credibility standard that was designed without her in mind, found her wanting, and moved to remove her.

She had since been detained at Lindela Repatriation Centre. She had been arrested at a police station on immigration grounds. She had lived with expired or unresolved documentation for years. She was residing on a farm— a temporary humanitarian arrangement established after a court order displaced her from where she had sought safety — and then faced eviction from that space too, with no clear alternative and no resolved legal status. Every piece of that chain — the flight, the interview, the rejection, the arrest, the detention, the precarity — was a continuation of the harm that began in South Kivu with soldiers who used her body as a weapon of war.

WHAT THE CASE ARGUED

ISLA and LHR asked the Court to review and set aside the decision of the Refugee Appeals Authority. We argued that the decision was unlawful under the Promotion of Administrative Justice Act: it was taken in a manner that was procedurally unfair, materially influenced by errors of law, and unreasonable. We argued that the decision failed to properly assess the gender-based violence she experienced as persecution within the meaning of the Refugees Act and applicable international law. We argued that the credibility findings were made without adequate engagement with the trauma, language barriers, passage of time, and gender-specific circumstances that shaped how she was able to give evidence. We argued that the decision failed to apply the correct standard of proof.

Underlying all of this was the principle of non-refoulement: the bedrock of international refugee law, which prohibited the return of a person to a territory where their life, freedom, physical safety, or integrity would be at risk. The DRC remained a country in which conflict, sexual violence, and the targeting of civilians continued. South Kivu remained one of the most dangerous places in the world to be a woman. Returning her there was not an administrative outcome. It was a potential death sentence.

WHY WE FILED ON 19 JUNE

The United Nations established 19 June as the International Day for the Elimination of Sexual Violence in Conflict in 2015, through Resolution A/RES/69/293. The date marked the adoption, in 2008, of UN Security Council Resolution 1820 — the first Security Council resolution to have recognised sexual violence in armed conflict as a tactic of war and a threat to international peace and security. It was a day for naming what is too often unnamed. It was a day for the women whose experiences of violence were systematically disbelieved, dismissed, or treated as insufficiently legible to qualify as persecution.

We filed on 19 June because the facts of this case are inseparable from the context that that day marked. She was not a statistic. She was a woman from South Kivu who survived what that region produced — and who arrived in South Africa asking for the protection that international law guaranteed, and received instead a finding that she was not credible enough.

She was also not unique. The structural failures her case exposed — the absence of gender-sensitive asylum adjudication, the credibility trap that penalises trauma-affected survivors, the failure to recognise gender-based violence as persecution, the cycle of detention and precarity that follows a rejected claim — were experienced by countless migrant women in South Africa. ISLA’s Women in Immigration Detention programme existed because these failures were systemic, not exceptional. The 19 June filing was one case. The problem it named was much larger.

WHAT WE ASKED FOR

ISLA and LHR called on the Department of Home Affairs to:

i. Implement gender-sensitive asylum adjudication procedures across all Refugee Reception Offices and the Refugee Appeals Authority, consistent with UNHCR’s Guidelines on International Protection No. 1 and the CEDAW Committee’s General Recommendations 32 and 33;

ii. Train all Refugee Status Determination Officers and members of the Refugee Appeals Authority in trauma-informed credibility assessment, with specific training on gender-based persecution and conflict-related sexual violence;

iii. Ensure that gender-based violence — including sexual violence in conflict — is consistently recognised as a form of persecution within the meaning of the Refugees Act; and

iv. Ensure that asylum seekers whose claims arise from conflict-related sexual violence are never subjected to detention, removal, or eviction from temporary shelter while their legal status remains unresolved.

FEMINIST FRAMING: THE LAW MUST SEE HER AS A WHOLE HUMAN BEING

Feminist legal analysis did not ask only whether a law is formally gender-neutral. It asked: what did the law do to women? What did it see, and what did it refuse to see? Applied to asylum law, that question was devastating. An asylum system that measures credibility against a paradigm built for male political dissenters — that expects linear, consistent, easily sequenced accounts from women who survived repeated sexual trauma, who fled under extreme duress, who did not speak the adjudicating language, who were interviewed years after events that the neurological literature tells us are stored and retrieved non-linearly — that system did not see her. It saw the inconsistency. It did not see what produced it.

Intersectionality — the analytical framework popularised by Professor Kimberlé Crenshaw and now embedded in South African constitutional equality jurisprudence — taught us that her vulnerability was not simply a function of being a woman. It was a function of being a Black African woman, from a conflict region, without documentation, without language, without wealth, without proximity to power. Each of these axes compounded the others. A gender-sensitive asylum system had to be capable of seeing all of them simultaneously. The current system was not.

On that day, we insisted that the law see her whole being. Not as an inconsistent witness to be disbelieved. Not as a failed asylum seeker to be deported. Not as a problem to be administered. She was a survivor of sexual violence in armed conflict. She was a mother. She was a person entitled to dignity, protection, and a genuine hearing under the Constitution and international law. She was not less credible because trauma shaped how she tells her story. She was, if anything, more in need of protection because of what she has survived — and because of what would happen to her if she was returned.

NOTE:

Certain identifying information has been withheld from this public statement to protect the safety, privacy, and dignity of the applicants. Any media coverage of this matter must not publish or broadcast information that could identify the first applicant, her children, or their current location. ISLA and LHR reserve the right to approach a court to prevent publication of identifying information that could put the applicants at risk.

For more information, contact mpho@lhr.org.za.

Ends

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