There are moments when the world becomes difficult to look away from.

In recent weeks, South Africa has been shaken by the deaths of several women whose bodies were discovered in and around Ekurhuleni, east of Johannesburg. The circumstances have caused fear, grief and anger across communities. While police are left investigating whether the cases are connected, the families of the victims are left to face an unbearable reality of losing their daughters, mothers, sisters and loved ones. Behind every number is a woman, a name, a family, a story and a life that mattered. As we approach our choral competition in remembrance of Laiza Tayali, a heroine of prayer and a noble woman, these events cause us to pause and ask a deeper question:

What kind of world are we building for the women who come after us?

Laiza Tayali is remembered not merely because she was a woman, but because of the spirit with which she lived. She represents the woman who carries prayer, the woman who stands when others are falling, the woman who remembers her people before herself, the woman whose strength is not measured by the loudness of her voice, but by the depth of her devotion. To remember such a woman at a time when so many women are living with fear is especially meaningful. Our remembrance must therefore be more than just a celebration but must become a prayer.

When the choirs gather at the competition, we will sing. But perhaps this year, we should listen to our own songs differently. Let every voice remember the women whose voices have been silenced. Let every harmony carry the families who are mourning. Let every note become a prayer for the young woman travelling home alone. For the mother raising her children. For the daughter leaving home in the morning. For the sister who should be able to walk without fear. For every woman whose safety should never have been a question.

Let us remember that prayer is not merely words spoken into the heavens. Prayer can also become the way we live. The way we protect. The way we teach. The way we treat one another. The way we refuse to remain silent when another person is being harmed. The remembrance of Laiza Tayali carries such significance. The heroine of prayer is not remembered only for the prayers she uttered, but for what those prayers meant. They remind us that a community has a responsibility to stand together. They remind us that women are not merely to be mourned after tragedy has occurred. They are to be valued while they are here. They are to be respected. They are to be protected. They are to be heard. And they are to be allowed to live lives free from violence and fear.

In a world where we are increasingly confronted with stories of women disappearing, being attacked and being found dead, the remembrance of a noble woman of prayer calls us back to something deeper which is the sacred value of human life.

So as we prepare for the competition, let us carry more than music with us. Let us carry the women. Let us carry their names. Let us carry the grief of their families. Let us carry the fear of communities that wonder who might be next and direct all these ailments to God through prayer. May our voices rise not merely in competition, but in remembrance. May our songs remind us that every woman has a name, a purpose and a life worth protecting. May our communities become places where women can walk without fear. May those who mourn find strength. May those who are afraid find courage. May those who have the power to protect use it wisely. And may the memory of Laiza Tayali continue to inspire a generation that understands that prayer is not only something we say but something we live.

Let us pray.

Let us sing.

Let us remember.

Forever.