Treena still keeps the car keys by the door.
She began doing this when she was planning how to leave.

For years, Treena lived with escalating violence. There were threats. There was sexualized abuse. One night, he wrapped his hands around her neck and strangled her. In that moment, she understood something many survivors come to know. Leaving requires courage, and it also requires surviving what happens next.

Treena has two young children, a two-year-old and a five-year-old. Like many mothers living with violence, she worried about what would happen to them if she tried to escape.

She eventually found the courage to leave. Six weeks later, he started showing up again.

He appeared at the grocery store where Treena worked. Sometimes he brought flowers. Sometimes small gifts. He said he was sorry. He said he wanted his family back. Treena recognized the danger behind those gestures.

A co-worker told her about Battered Women’s Support Services, and she called our crisis line. She was assigned a support worker and a legal advocate.

A legal advocate helped her apply for a family law protection order so she and her children could have clear boundaries and some measure of safety.

The order was meant to protect Treena and her children. However, her former husband ignored it. He violated the rules around child exchanges. He continued appearing in places connected to Treena. When she contacted the police, she was told that officers did not believe they should enforce the order because it was a family law matter, and he had not done anything beyond showing up.

Treena knew the danger was real. Our team knew it as well.

The warning signs were clear. Treena had survived strangulation. She had received repeated death threats. The harassment increased after the separation. Each time he appeared unexpectedly, the risk grew. When Treena called us again, she was frightened that the situation was escalating and no one was taking it seriously.

This is where someone like you makes a difference.

Because of someone like you, a frontline support worker listened carefully and confirmed that Treena was not imagining the danger. She helped Treena understand what escalation can look like and what steps could strengthen her safety.

Because of someone like you, a support worker advocated for Treena to ensure the protection order was taken seriously. Documents were reviewed. The warning signs were placed clearly in front of the people responsible for acting on them.

Because of someone like you, our team continued advocating until the situation was reviewed more closely.

After continued advocacy from our team, the protection order was finally enforced.

Treena’s former husband was arrested and charged under the Criminal Code, including assault and uttering threats. Treena and her children are safer today. None of this happened by chance.

Because of someone like you, Treena had people standing beside her when the danger escalated, and someone recognized the warning signs before it was too late.

Every day, women across our community face situations like Treena’s. The warning signs of serious violence are present, yet too often, survivors are left to face those dangers alone.

Your support ensures that when survivors reach out, someone is ready to listen, advocate, and act.

Because of someone like you, survivors receive crisis support, legal advocacy, and safety planning when they need it most.

Leaving violence rarely happens in a single moment. It is a process that requires courage, support, and people willing to stand beside survivors when the path to safety becomes complicated.

Treena had that support.

The next woman who calls us should have it too.

Please make your donation today to help ensure that when a woman like Treena reaches out for help, someone is there to answer. Your gift will provide crisis support, legal advocacy, and safety planning for women and children facing escalating violence.

A gift today helps ensure that when a survivor calls our crisis line, a trained advocate is there to listen, assess the danger, and help her take the next step toward safety.

Right now, somewhere in our community, another woman is deciding whether it is safe to reach out for help.

Please make your donation today to help ensure that when a woman like Treena reaches out for help, someone is there to answer. Your gift will provide crisis support, legal advocacy, and safety planning for women and children facing escalating violence.

A gift today helps ensure that when a survivor calls our crisis line, a trained advocate is there to listen, assess the danger, and help her take the next step toward safety.

Right now, somewhere in our community, another woman is deciding whether it is safe to reach out for help.

Hosted by The Justice Centre at BWSS

Pervention of Violence against Women Week: Pursuit of Justice! (Webinar)

A national feminist legal-justice gathering during Prevention of Violence Against Women week, highlighting – Gender Based Violence, spotlighting breakthrough litigation and policy shifts advancing safety, dignity and justice for survivors of intimate partner and sexualized violence. 

When: Monday, April 20, 2026

Time:  9:30 AM – 2:00 PM

Where: Webinar, Online Registration: Free

Justice is not automatic rather it is built, and in Canada, it has been built without survivors at the centre. It’s time to redesign what justice looks like, from the courtroom to community safety systems. 

Register in advance for this webinar:
https://us02web.zoom.us/webinar/register/WN_nWZJ6qZuTRSbbpj1PxTrNQ

After registering, you will receive a confirmation email containing information about joining the webinar.

Forum Program

Dec 2025, | Synchronicity Second Stage Transition House Program

By: Zahra Hashemi

At Synchronicity Second Stage Transition House Program, we see every day how tailored support, safe housing, and a caring community can transform the lives of survivors of gender-based violence (GBV). One participant’s story reminds us that safety and support are more than just services, they are lifelines.

When she first arrived, she carried heavy burdens: navigating the complexities of newcomer life, securing stable housing, helping her child adjust to school, attending English classes, and managing forms and appointments, all while processing her experience of violence. Health concerns had gone unnoticed for months, overshadowed by the many demands on her time and energy.

Through the program, she found a safe space to focus on herself and her family. Staff helped identify and address health issues she hadn’t realized were impacting on her child’s well-being. They provided guidance on housing, supported her children’s schooling, helped her enroll in English classes, and connected her to community resources, all while ensuring her safety.

“This program was like a wheelchair for me,” she reflected. “Having that support just changed my life, and I was able to walk again.”

Our team’s consistent follow-up, personalized support, and community connections gave her the tools to rebuild self-confidence and self-worth. By removing barriers, providing guidance, and listening without judgment, Synchronicity created an environment where she could thrive.

Her journey shows the power of a comprehensive approach to supporting survivors:

• Safe and stable housing
• Connection to community resources
• Guidance on newcomer-specific needs
• Access to health services
• Support for children’s education
• Opportunities to rebuild confidence and self-worth

At Synchronicity, we believe that every survivor deserves a chance at safety, stability, and empowerment. With the right support in place, lives can be transformed, and hope can be restored.

Synchronicity Second Stage Transition House Program | BWSS

By Angela Marie MacDougall

A man walks into the legislative chamber and takes his seat while facing charges of assault, assault by choking, and uttering threats in an intimate partner case. He has been removed from caucus and now sits as an independent, yet he continues to participate in the work of governing. In British Columbia, that man is Hon Chan.

This situation should be unthinkable in any institution responsible for public safety, yet it is happening in full view of the public and within the highest levels of government.

In Manitoba, former finance minister Scott Fielding has been charged with sexual assault. In Winnipeg, Russ Wyatt faces new charges after returning to office following an earlier case. These are not isolated incidents or unfortunate coincidences. They demonstrate that violence against women is not confined to private life but is now present within legislative assemblies themselves, where laws are made and standards are set.

This is the crisis that must be named directly.

We are watching men facing charges of sexual assault and choking continue to exercise public power, participate in legislative decision-making, and influence the conditions that shape public safety. The same institutions that claim responsibility for protecting the public are permitting this contradiction to stand within their own ranks.

There is no neutral way to understand this situation. This is not about procedure or timing, and it cannot be explained away as part of a process that must run its course. This is about power, and it is about what institutions are prepared to tolerate in those who hold it.

Violence against women has long been treated as something that occurs in private spaces, within relationships and behind closed doors, where it can be minimized, delayed, or ignored. That distinction has allowed institutions to avoid responsibility and to separate violence from governance. That boundary has now collapsed. When a man charged with choking a partner takes his seat in a legislative chamber, the line between private violence and public authority no longer exists in any meaningful sense.

What follows is not confusion but adaptation.

The role remains intact, the work of governing continues, and authority is preserved while the allegations are treated as something external to the exercise of power. What is being protected in that moment is not public safety or public trust. What is being protected is continuity of power, even when that power is directly implicated in violence against women.

Choking is not a minor or ambiguous allegation. It is widely recognized as one of the strongest indicators of escalating and potentially lethal violence. Sexual assault is not a matter of interpretation or misunderstanding. It is a profound violation of bodily autonomy and safety. These are among the most serious forms of violence recognized in both law and risk assessment, and they are directly linked to the risk of femicide.

Across Canada, women are being killed in predictable and preventable ways. The work of the Canadian Femicide Observatory for Justice and Accountability has made this clear year after year, documenting the patterns, the warning signs, and the systemic failures that precede these deaths. Cases such as Bailey McCourt and Laura Gover have made visible what has long been known: the risk is not hidden, and the violence does not come without warning.

Yet even with that knowledge, even with that evidence, even with women continuing to be killed, the presence of serious allegations such as choking and sexual assault does not disqualify someone from holding public office.

That is the standard currently operating within our legislative institutions.

Women who live with this level of violence do not experience it as a single event that can be isolated and addressed at a later time. They live within ongoing conditions of control, fear, and calculation that shape every aspect of their daily lives. They make decisions about what to say, where to go, and how to respond based on an ongoing assessment of risk that institutions often fail to recognize or act upon.

What is now visible is that this same pattern is being reproduced at the highest levels of governance.

Information about harm exists, the level of risk is understood, and the response is delayed or absent while authority remains intact. Institutions continue to function around that contradiction, accommodating it rather than confronting it, and in doing so they normalize a level of risk that would be unacceptable in any other context.

There is no defensible rationale for this.

Elected officials are not entitled to hold power under any circumstances. They are entrusted with authority on the condition that they exercise judgment, uphold public trust, and contribute to the safety of the communities they serve. When credible allegations of serious violence against women are known and no immediate action is taken to remove that authority, that trust is broken in a fundamental way.

In every other area of public safety, known risk at this level would trigger immediate intervention to reduce exposure and prevent harm. The failure to apply that same standard within legislative assemblies is not an oversight or a delay. It is a political choice that signals what is and is not considered disqualifying for those in power.

As Executive Director of Battered Women’s Support Services, I hear from women every day who are navigating the consequences of this exact failure. They understand what it means when risk is known but not acted upon, when harm is minimized, and when authority is allowed to remain in place despite clear warning signs. They are living with the outcomes of decisions that prioritize continuity over safety.

When those same conditions appear within the institutions responsible for public safety, the message is unmistakable.

Violence against women is not disqualifying.

That message carries consequences far beyond the walls of any legislative assembly. It shapes how seriously violence is treated, how urgently risk is addressed, and whether women can expect protection from the systems that claim to serve them.

Public safety does not begin after charges are laid or after cases become public. It begins at the moment institutions are confronted with credible information about harm and decide whether to act.

In 2025, 147 women and girls were violently killed in Canada, most often by men they knew.

Research from the Canadian Femicide Observatory for Justice and Accountability shows these deaths follow recognizable patterns: gendered violence, killings in private spaces, and warning signs that are often overlooked.

Understanding those patterns is essential if we want to prevent future violence.

Source:
Canadian Femicide Observatory for Justice and Accountability
#CallItFemicide 2025 Report