This article was prompted by the Epstein files case, the increasing number of sexual violence cases against minors in Cameroon, and a recent video I watched on Instagram about the micro-sexual aggressions that young girls are exposed to during childhood by members of their own families. It made me realize that we do not talk enough about pedophilia and child sexual abuse within families, or that we downplay it in order to preserve “unity” in many of our communities, particularly in the context I know best: Cameroon.
The Sacred Family Narrative
There is a common saying in our families:
Le linge sale se lave en famille
translated into English as “Don’t air your dirty laundry in public.” In my view, this statement perfectly captures the way pedophilia and child sexual abuse within families are often treated.
Families have been presented to us, across generations, as something sacred that should be preserved at all costs. Your pain as an individual should never disrupt family unity or tarnish the image of the family. With distance and reflection, however, I have come to realize that what was actually nurtured within us was a commitment to lies, pain, and silence.
Let us start with the latter: silence.
Silence: The First Lesson We Learn
The culture of silence was instilled in us from an early age, particularly within the parent-child relationship. As a child, you owed total submission to your parents. They were right; you were wrong. You followed what they told you without objection. I witnessed some of my cousins being physically abused simply because they dared to look their parents in the eyes while being spoken to. A friend once openly shared that he had beaten his child because the latter was looking him directly in the eyes. And I keep asking myself: what is the absolute need some parents have to dominate their children and strip them of any confidence to stand their ground?
When Speaking Up Becomes Dangerous
I witnessed a classmate in high school arrive at school one morning covered in bruises because she had confessed to her mother that her aunt’s husband (the man in whose house she was living) was making advances toward her. After learning this, her mother called a meeting with all three of her sisters, with my classmate present, only to beat her under the accusation that she was “trying to seduce her aunt’s husband.” The husband was never questioned or confronted. He was the prize to be won and preserved at all costs, even if it meant overlooking the possibility that he could have sexually abused my classmate.
Through that act, the mother was effectively telling her daughter to remain silent and never count on her for protection. To this day, I wonder whether the mother of my classmate, who was only fifteen years old at the time, ever considered the consequences of her actions on her daughter, or whether she remained trapped in the mental prison in which many women still live in order to preserve their marital status.
These are only glimpses of how silence was fostered in our upbringing through violence and abuse. The worst part was when religious scriptures were used to suppress our capacity to raise our voices.
Religion and the Culture of Silence
The famous commandment states:
Honor your father and your mother, so that your days may be long in the land the Lord your God is giving you. — Exodus 20:12
It is the only commandment associated with a promise of long life if you honor your parents. No matter how hurtful or awful a parent’s actions might be, we were reminded that we owed them our lives. It is a form of emotional blackmail from which many people struggle to recover even in adulthood.
This culture of silence has fostered an environment that allows acts of child sexual abuse within families to go unpunished because, after all, “no family is perfect” and “family is sacred.” Yet the fractures we are witnessing in family structures today are perhaps the clearest indication that many of our families were anything but sacred because of the level of abuse they tolerated and perpetuated. Remember, silence protects whoever holds power.
Pain: When Violence Is Called Education
When it comes to pain within the family setting, thousands of writers across multiple disciplines would be needed to unpack its long-term effects, and many have already begun.
Let us start with physical pain, the most visible form. Whether at home or at school, most of us have either experienced it or witnessed it. A slap, an insult, intimidation, isolation, neglect, manipulation, fighting, the silent treatment, mockery, or emotional blackmail, the list is long.
The Normalization of Violence
Within my circle, some people glorify the education they received from their parents when comparing it to the current generation, which they often describe as deprived because of “soft parenting.” In reality, what they are saying is that the violence they endured made them better adults than a generation that is not experiencing the same level of suffering.
Families (and later schools) taught us to normalize violence and view it as the ultimate tool for raising a child into a “good” adult. The evidence of this is visible today: as adults, when confronted, rejected, or unable to engage in dialogue, many resort to violence as a means of imposing themselves.
The Public Humiliation of Elock
In 2005, while I was still in secondary school, a classmate whom we will call Elock was flogged by his father in the middle of the classroom, with both the teacher and students present as spectators. His offense was that the school administration had complained about his behavior.
It was not merely physical punishment. The flogging was intended to strip Elock of his dignity, confidence, courage, and sense of defiance. His father wanted his son to be submissive—pay attention to that word.
Some of us could not contain ourselves in the face of such violence, and our empathy and solidarity were expressed through tears. The school administration, failing to understand students’ needs and to provide non-violent educational approaches, chose instead to impose its authority through repression. Violence became a tool to remind us to fear our teachers and administrators.
School is one thing, but within the walls of our own families, some of us experienced absolute cruelty in the name of education.
In many cases, our first encounter with pain originated at home.
The Cruelty We Refuse to Name
One of my earliest childhood memories from the 1990s is hearing the screams and cries of my cousin Siaka (name changed). Siaka was what I would describe as an energetic child entering puberty. It was almost impossible to keep him still. He climbed trees, played endlessly, wandered around, and sometimes took things that did not belong to him.
The latter offense cost him dearly. Not once, not twice, but repeatedly.
(The following example may be disturbing, but it illustrates the extent to which violence can become normalized when disguised as discipline )
As punishment, his parents would cane him and then apply ground red chili pepper to his genital area. It was horrific. The most cynical aspect was that his parents genuinely believed it was the correct and most effective way to discipline him. They trusted their method completely.
Some of us, powerless to intervene, were even asked to grind the chili that would later be used for his punishment.
Reading this, you may wonder how such treatment was possible. How could a child be subjected to this? What was wrong with the parents?
But let me remind you that this is a byproduct of generational trauma, part of which has roots in colonial systems of domination and violence.
What is most striking today is that, despite greater awareness and knowledge, very few parents can admit they went too far or acknowledge the harm they caused, let alone ask for forgiveness.
Instead, many will tell you: “It was nothing. You should be grateful. Without it, you would not be the person you are today.”
Remember what I said earlier: the parent is always right, and the child is always wrong. The final symptom is lies.
The Lies We Inherited
Our family members and parents trained us to incorporate lies into our value systems. Parents lie, children absorb those lies, and eventually those lies become accepted truths.
Lie #1: Family unity must be protected at all costs
At the beginning of this article, I referred to the idea that “family is sacred” through the saying “Le linge sale se lave en famille.” I still believe that family is sacred. But its sacredness cannot become a dogma that blinds us to wrongdoing.
Depending on what you consider family (parents and siblings, friends, or a spouse and children) we must challenge the idea that family unity should be preserved at all costs.
Absolutely not.
There are many legitimate reasons why “all-cost protection” should never apply:
- Any form of violence justified as love
- Submission or silence in the face of harm
- Constant guilt and emotional manipulation
- Religious extremism
The list goes on.
My principle is simple:
For anyone I consider family, if your chronic behavior costs me my values or my peace of mind, then we are done. I will love you from a distance.
I am loyal to my principles, not to individuals.
Our families cannot continue invoking the mantra of “unity at all costs” while protecting people who harm others in the most vicious and unacceptable ways.
A choice has to be made. Family unity is valuable, but not when it is built on the suffering of its most vulnerable members.
Lie #2: Children owe total submission to adults
Wrong.
Submission is not respect, although respect may sometimes include an element of obedience.
This distinction is fundamental because families remain the primary setting where children are most likely to experience violence compared with other environments.
Global data indicates that approximately 1.6 billion children—about two-thirds of children worldwide—experience violent discipline from parents or caregivers at home. For sexual violence, a significant proportion is committed by family members, relatives, or trusted adults known to the child.
Many families are not the safe spaces we once imagined them to be. That is what the data tells us.
Every human being owes respect to others and to their environment. Children owe respect and obedience to their parents, but terms and conditions apply. As long as what a parent expects from a child is not morally, emotionally, or physically harmful to that child or to others, then we are on solid ground.
To my Christian parents and friends who are ready to quote Exodus 20, Colossians 3, or Proverbs 6, I invite you also to read Colossians 3:21 and Ephesians 6:4. Even scripture seeks balance in the parent-child relationship.
There is no room for harm in the name of religion.
Lie #3: Violence produces better adults
No.
Violence and education should never sit at the same table; unless we are talking about sports and the idea of “good pain.” But you understand my point.
Good people, being strict is not the same as being violent.
Strict parenting is characterized by firm rules, high expectations, consistent discipline, and close supervision without violence or abuse.
Violent parenting, by contrast, relies on physical force, psychological aggression, humiliation, threats, and other harmful methods of control.
These two approaches produce very different outcomes.
What some parents attribute to the success of their violent parenting style is often the result of entirely different factors.
Scientific research has identified several factors that increase the likelihood that victims of childhood violence will succeed later in life:
- At least one trusted and supportive adult during childhood.
- Strong friendships and social support.
- Participation in school, sports, faith communities, or extracurricular activities.
- Access to education.
- Mental health support when needed.
- The development of meaning, purpose, and future goals.
(For further insight, see: A Systematic Review of Resilience Factors for Psychosocial Outcomes During the Transition to Adulthood Following Childhood Victimisation.)
Dear parents (and teachers) we love you, but do not fool yourselves into believing that violent parenting is the source of our success.
At one point, many of us believed that too, and some still do. But scientific evidence tells a different story. Being wrong, and admitting it, is not fatal. It is simply part of being human.
Breaking the Cycle
From, all the key elements I have discussed (silence, violence, and lies) whether taken individually or together, provide fertile ground for the concealment of pedophilia and child sexual abuse within families.
We have seen it. I have seen it.
It often begins with small acts that eventually paralyze the child (and later the adult) from speaking out when something harmful happens.
The sacredness of our families, and their preservation, depends on how much we invest in education and in building behaviors grounded in ethics, values, and principles that reject all forms of violence.
There is no other way forward.
And if we want “sacred” families, we must be willing to challenge the myths we inherited and replace them with accountability, truth, and justice.