If you or someone you know is experiencing intimate partner violence, help is available. In Canada, you can call the Assaulted Women鈥檚 Helpline at 1-866-863-0511 or text 9-1-1 in an emergency.
Last week, as I sat in the emergency room at 91大黄鸭 General Hospital, an announcement crackled over the PA: 鈥淟evel one trauma incoming, two minutes.鈥� The room hushed. Staff hurried into position. But nothing could have prepared me for what I learned: a woman had been killed at her workplace allegedly by her ex-husband, and her friend had been seriously injured trying to help her.
That woman was Bailey McCourt, a 30-year-old mother of two. Charged in connection with her death is the man she had once trusted. The attack on McCourt happened just hours after her estranged husband, James Plover, was convicted of assault and uttering threats.
Her case is horrifying, but not rare. Just last year in the North Okanagan, 44-year-old Tatjana Stefanski disappeared after fleeing a marriage. Her ex-husband was later charged with her abduction and murder. Like McCourt, she left behind children who will grow up without a mother 鈥� and with memories scarred by violence.
These stories follow a chillingly familiar pattern: women fear for their lives, they tell the police, sometimes even obtain restraining orders. Yet these men 鈥� known to be dangerous 鈥� remain free to strike.
Intimate partner violence (IPV) is not limited to female victims. This week, a year after an August 2022 vehicle crash on West 91大黄鸭's Horizon Drive, 29-year-old Ka-Mikosit Favelle was arrested and charged with manslaughter of her partner Adam Briand-Lawrence. Statistics show however, that in 8 out of 10 cases of IPV resulting in murder, women are the victims.
Why does it keep happening?
Despite decades of advocacy and awareness, IPV remains one of the most common 鈥� and deadly 鈥� crimes in Canada. Statistics Canada reported in 2018 that every six days a woman is killed by her intimate partner. And those numbers only scratch the surface of the terror many live with daily.
On paper, Canada鈥檚 laws do criminalize stalking, threats, assault, and homicide. Courts can issue restraining or no-contact orders. But in practice, these tools often fail. Police and judges seem reluctant to act decisively until after blood is spilled.
Victims report death threats and escalating harassment, but police may dismiss it as 鈥渁 domestic dispute.鈥� Restraining orders are violated routinely, yet rarely enforced swiftly or meaningfully. And even when charges are laid, bail is often granted to violent men with the flimsiest of conditions 鈥� sometimes sending the message that their rage is just another family matter to work out.
What solutions are coming forth from the government? Some suggest that Charter rights, such as freedom of movement and protection from arbitrary detention, tie the hands of police and courts.
And while civil liberties must be protected, it鈥檚 hard to reconcile those protections with the recurring slaughter of women who cry out for help and are ignored. Do we need to amend the Charter to give judges and police stronger powers to detain those who pose a clear and present danger?
Or is the real problem not the law itself, but a culture 鈥� in law enforcement, in the courts, in society 鈥� that minimizes women鈥檚 fear, doubts their credibility, and underestimates the risk posed by abusive men?
What strikes me most is how predictable these tragedies are. After every killing, the same cycle plays out: headlines, outrage, a vigil, calls for change. And then鈥� silence. Until it happens again.
In the meantime, families remain shattered. Children grow up without mothers. Friends grieve. Communities shake their heads and say, 鈥淲hy didn鈥檛 anyone stop him?鈥�
We know who these men are. Their victims tell us, often over and over. Yet we leave them free to kill.
Intimate partner violence is not inevitable. It is preventable 鈥� but only if we choose to treat it like the public emergency it is.
That means resourcing police, prosecutors, and courts to prioritize IPV, enforce orders and put violent offenders behind bars. It means developing risk assessment tools that are actually used 鈥� and acted upon. It means supporting victims with safe housing and income support so they can leave. The current focus seems too focused on being reactive vs. being proactive. And it means teaching boys who will become men how to deal with their emotions in a healthy way.
And yes, it may mean revisiting our laws and even the Charter if it鈥檚 proven that current protections are making it impossible to detain violent offenders before they kill.
For too long, we鈥檝e treated IPV as a private matter or a sad inevitability. But love 鈥� or what masquerades as love 鈥� should never be a death sentence.
It鈥檚 time to stop asking why these men keep killing and start asking why we keep letting them.
- Wilbur Turner, LL.D. (Hon.)
~ Wilbur Turner is a political strategist and community advocate based in 91大黄鸭, British Columbia, with deep roots in Alberta. With experience on the ground in federal and municipal campaigns, and a passion for civic engagement, Turner offers sharp, accessible insight into the political and social issues shaping our region and country. He was selected by the University of British Columbia for an Honorary Doctor of Laws for his significant contribution to the community. He also writes articles as QueerGranddad on Substack.
