Leon Munsamy allegedly his two daughters, Emilia and Elana, before taking his own life, at their Tongaat home last week
Image: SUPPLIED
WHEN news breaks that a parent has killed their children and then taken their own life, the public response is a mix of horror and confusion. How does something like this happen? How do children who are supposed to be protected above all else become victims in disputes between adults?
As a child protection specialist, I can say that in most of these cases, the children are not the cause of the violence. They are caught in the psychological storm of an adult who is overwhelmed by rage, control, despair or distorted thinking. To understand these tragedies, we have to look beyond the immediate act and examine the dynamics that often precede it.
One of the most common patterns involves children becoming instruments in parental conflict. In high-conflict separations, some parents stop seeing their children as independent individuals with their own rights and emotional needs. Instead, the children become extensions of the self or worse, leverage against the other parent.
In these cases, threats to harm the children may be used to punish or control an ex-partner. The mindset shifts from “what is best for my child?” to “how can I hurt the person who hurt me?”
In the most extreme and devastating instances, that logic culminates in a parent killing their children to exact revenge. Domestic abuse research has consistently shown that the period during and immediately after separation is one of the highest-risk times for lethal violence. When a controlling partner senses that power is slipping away whether through divorce, custody proceedings or a restraining order, their behaviour can escalate.
Coercive control is about domination, not love. When that control collapses, some individuals experience it not as a relationship ending, but as annihilation of identity. The phrase often heard in these cases, “If I can’t have them, no one will”, reflects possessiveness, not parental devotion.
Not all cases are rooted in revenge or coercive control. Some involve severe mental health crises. Profound depression, psychosis, paranoia or suicidal thinking can distort perception so drastically that a parent believes death is a form of protection. In child protection literature, this has sometimes been referred to as “altruistic filicide”, a term meant to describe situations in which a parent claims to be saving their children from a cruel world. The language is controversial because it risks softening the reality: these are acts of lethal harm.
But it does highlight an important factor that in some cases, the parent’s thinking is profoundly disordered rather than overtly vengeful. Financial collapse and identity loss can also play a role. For some individuals, especially those whose self-worth is tightly bound to being a provider or authority figure, events like job loss, public shame or an unfavourable custody ruling can trigger catastrophic thinking. Rather than imagining a future that includes rebuilding, they perceive total ruin.
In rare, but deeply tragic scenarios sometimes described as “family annihilation”, a parent kills their children and then dies by suicide, believing there is no path forward for any of them. It is important to be clear: most people who experience divorce, financial strain or mental illness do not harm their children. These events alone do not predict violence. What elevates risk is a combination of factors a history of domestic abuse, escalating threats, access to lethal means, untreated or worsening mental illness, obsessive custody disputes, stalking behaviours, and statements expressing hopelessness or violent intent.
Often, warning signs are present, but they may be minimised or misinterpreted. Child protection reviews conducted after such tragedies frequently identify missed opportunities. Threats may have been dismissed as emotional outbursts. Agencies may have failed to share information across police, schools, courts and social services. Custody disputes may have been treated as ordinary “high conflict”, rather than recognised as potentially dangerous. The distinction matters.
High conflict is not the same as high risk. Children are especially vulnerable in these circumstances because they depend entirely on caregivers for survival and safety. They cannot simply walk away. They are often loyal to both parents, even when one is frightening or abusive. They may keep secrets to preserve family unity or because they fear consequences. When the person meant to protect them becomes the source of harm, their ability to seek help is limited.
Understanding these dynamics is not about excusing the perpetrator. It is about identifying patterns early enough to intervene. When a separating parent makes credible threats to harm themselves or their children, that must be treated as a serious safeguarding issue. When coercive control has been documented, post-separation contact arrangements require careful risk assessment. When mental health deteriorates rapidly alongside family breakdown, co-ordinated support is critical.
Communities also play a role. Friends, relatives, teachers and neighbours often sense when something is wrong before authorities do.
Statements like “you’ll be sorry” or “you won’t see the kids again”, should not be brushed off if they are accompanied by escalating anger, isolation or access to weapons or poisons. Reporting concerns is not an act of betrayal; it can be an act of protection. Every time children die in these circumstances, there is collective soul-searching. How could this have been prevented? The honest answer is that prevention requires taking domestic abuse seriously, recognising that separation can heighten danger rather than reduce it, responding robustly to threats, and ensuring that mental health crises are not ignored.
Above all, we must remember that children are not bargaining chips, extensions of adult pride, or symbols of victory in a dispute. They are independent human beings with an absolute right to safety. When adult conflict becomes so consuming that a parent no longer sees that clearly, the risk to children rises dramatically. Tragedies like this are rare, but they are not random. They grow from identifiable patterns of coercion, despair, untreated mental illness and systemic blind spots. The responsibility of child protection systems, courts and communities is to recognise those patterns before they culminate in irreversible loss.
** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL or Independent Media.