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Cliffordene Norton spoke to three romance authors and asked them whether they think people in South Africa feel emotionally and socially safe enough to fall in love.
Cliffordene Norton:
I recently started reaching out to romance authors for the next Cliff-hanger. I am a fan of the romance genre – both for its escapism and because I have had the privilege of witnessing the extraordinary work ethic of romance authors up close. (This was during my time at LAPA Uitgewers.) But as I read their thoughtful responses, another question pressed harder: Do South African women still feel safe enough to truly invest in romance?
Last November on the 21st, South African women protested with one goal in mind: Declare gender-based violence and femicide a national disaster. This message seemed to ripple through the world as support lit up in purple. According to the nonprofit organisation Women for Change, at least 15 women are murdered and 117 women report rape cases to the police every day in South Africa. It seems likely that most people would date their murderer, instead of the love of their life.
How does the romance genre fare in this climate?
I reached out to Elsa Winckler, author of The Westons of Montana series and Om Leah veilig te hou; Alta Cloete, who writes women’s fiction under her own name and romance as Marilé Cloete, with Marilé’s latest title being ’n Doodgewone meisie; and Nadia Cassim, author of Not another samoosa run!. I asked them three follow-up questions about violence, safety and the responsibility of writing love stories in South Africa.
What emerged was not denial. It was awareness.
There is a sobering honesty in acknowledging that South Africa’s high levels of violence – particularly gender-based violence and femicide – inevitably shape how romance is written, read and perceived. Readers do not approach stories in a vacuum. They bring lived experience. They bring fear. They bring caution.
As Nadia Cassim puts it: “Asking readers to emotionally detach from their surroundings in order to invest in idealised romantic outcomes is a far greater leap here than in societies where personal safety is less precarious.” Stories that mirror the world outside feel more aligned with daily reality. Which may explain the popularity of crime novels – or the krimi! In this context, romance – with its promise that love conquers all – can feel like a leap.
Like any genre, romance grew and evolved to reflect current society. The male protagonist can no longer get away with being a jerk and then whispering “I love you” at the end.
“Since the #MeToo movement a few years ago, the English romance market has been very sensitive about how a hero is portrayed,” says well-known and beloved romance author Elsa Winckler. Elsa writes in Afrikaans and English. Her English romances have been published by Inkspell Publishing and Tule Publishing. “It’s something I bring into the Afrikaans stories I write. The hero can no longer just ‘grab’ the heroine by the arm or overpower her. Readers can be ‘triggered’ by certain stories, and you as a writer need to be aware of that.”
This awareness is probably the reason why Elsa’s books are so popular. The hero’s behaviour needs to be less domineering. What once signalled intensity may now read as control. What was marketed as irresistible dominance can feel uncomfortably close to the red flags women are taught to watch for in real life.
Nadia Cassim makes a great point: “Women often do not feel safe enough to surrender to the idea of love. There are simply too many risks to weigh, too many realities to navigate. Love, in theory, asks for openness, vulnerability and trust. Yet” – a three-letter word that makes a huge difference – “many women are moving through a world that constantly reminds them to be guarded, alert and self-protective.”
The genre has had to evolve.
In response to whether people in South Africa feel emotionally and socially safe enough to fall in love, the answers were layered. History shows that people fall in love regardless of circumstances – an observation by Elsa. “During wars, plagues, political unrest. Falling in love is not always a rational act; it happens.” It is a sentiment that Alta Cloete agrees with. “People will always fall in love, even under the most difficult circumstances.”
She cautions her next opinion as “unromantic”: “My feeling is that the more difficult people’s circumstances are and the more insecure they feel, the easier they will embrace ‘falling in love’ or infatuation as the ‘rescue’ from that situation, whether emotionally or physically.” This is where the writer’s responsibility is to write enthusiastically about love, but not to draw mere infatuation as a solution to a character’s emotional needs. “It’s important to me that the characters realise when they are falling in love. They should be able to distinguish between infatuation and true love. For me, there must be a transition between the two.”
Then there is the question of escapism.
Romance is often dismissed as “just escape”, as though escape were frivolous. But perhaps, in a country where emotional vigilance has become second nature, choosing to read about tenderness and mutual respect is not naïve – it is restorative.
As Elsa and Alta point out, readers picking up a romance novel do not want graphic violence. The genre has boundaries. It does not exist to replicate the evening news. “I think it’s important to write stories of hope and joy,” is Elsa’s opinion. “Especially in the times we’re in now.”
The genre does not ignore reality. It engages with it carefully, respectfully and sometimes indirectly. According to Alta, the balance is delicate: light, but not careless. Serious, but not heavy-handed. Honest, but never exploitative.
Above all, trauma must never be romanticised. “I write for women who, amidst all the horror in the world, still hold on to the miracle of love, and it’s a serious responsibility that a writer must accept,” says Alta.
So, are South African women safe enough to invest in romance?
The answer is complicated – and personal. But in a country where so much feels unstable, writing and reading love as partnership may be a quiet act of resistance. And perhaps that is precisely why we still need it in fiction.
Resources:
UN Women, 2025. South Africa’s G20 Women’s Shutdown – a turning point for ending gender-based violence and femicide?. Date of use: 11/02/2026.
Winckler, E. 2025. Books – Romances.
Women for Change, 2025. South Africa’s war against women and children. Date of use: 11/02/2026.
Also read:
Not another samoosa run! by Nadia Cassim: a reader’s impression