Rawad’s Story: How Legal Gaps and Gender Discrimination Can Turn Children into Victims

Rawassei Abd Al Jalil, journalist

Last month, Benghazi awoke to a tragedy that shook the city. Ten-year-old Rawad was found dead, buried in the garden of his uncle’s house. The woman accused of killing him was identified as his uncle’s wife. According to reports, Rawad endured prolonged torture and severe physical abuse before losing consciousness. Instead of seeking urgent medical help, the accused reportedly contacted his mother, a woman who had not seen her son for four years.

Those four years were not the result of distance or choice. They were the consequence of a custody battle shaped by coercion, power imbalance, and legal shortcomings that left a mother separated from her children and a child trapped in a cycle of abuse that would ultimately cost him his life.

Rawad’s suffering began long before his death. According to his mother, his father entered into a relationship with his brother’s wife—an act criminalised under Libyan law. When Rawad’s mother discovered the relationship, she sought legal recourse and reported the matter to the authorities. Police reportedly arrested those involved and seized a significant quantity of narcotics.

However, while facing legal consequences, the father allegedly used custody of the children as a bargaining tool during divorce negotiations. He forced the mother to relinquish her children, placing them under his legal guardianship while he was imprisoned. The children were subsequently left in the care of his partner, who assumed responsibility for raising them.

Rawad’s mother describes years of desperate attempts to reach her children. According to her testimony, her former husband changed their residence, severed all means of communication, and prevented any contact between her and the children. She further stated that she was initially pressured to abandon two of her children and was later compelled to surrender custody of the others to secure her divorce.

Throughout this process, questions remained regarding the father’s suitability as a guardian and whether adequate assessments were conducted to determine the children’s safety and welfare.

Rawad’s murder has reignited a broader debate about the vulnerability of children in Libya and the challenges faced by divorced women navigating a legal system that often leaves them with limited protection and support.

For many divorced women, raising children is accompanied by significant economic hardship. Those without independent sources of income frequently face social restrictions that limit their participation in the workforce, while others lack access to educational opportunities that could provide stable employment. These realities often leave women financially dependent and vulnerable.

Under Libyan law, a woman may lose custody of her children if she remarries following divorce. At the same time, financial support mechanisms remain inadequate. In many cases, mothers receive only a modest child support allowance—often around 250 Libyan dinars per month—an amount that falls far short of covering the actual costs of food, housing, healthcare, education, and daily necessities.

To better understand the legal dimensions of these issues, we spoke with Ms Dina Zaroug, a lawyer and social activist, who highlighted the gap between legislation and the realities women and children face in Libya.

“Unfortunately, Libyan law has not kept pace with social and political changes. Some legislation still dates back to the Kingdom era. When it comes to divorced women, the financial support allocated is extremely limited, considering the economic conditions and security challenges facing families today. If a woman receives only 250 LYD—approximately 40 USD—as support from the father, this amount is expected to cover housing, food, healthcare, and the children’s needs. One can easily imagine the vast gap between what families require and what the law provides.

The Libyan justice system also struggles to enforce court rulings effectively due to political instability, security challenges, and weaknesses within the legal framework. Many laws require urgent amendments to reflect the realities that emerged after 2011 and the evolving needs of Libyan society.”

When asked about government efforts to protect vulnerable children, Zaroug painted an equally troubling picture.

“Unfortunately, successive governments since 2011 have failed to establish adequate support systems or rehabilitation centres for children exposed to domestic violence, abuse, or harassment within their own families. There is little protection and almost no sustained awareness campaigns focused on children’s rights.

In some cases, government institutions themselves become part of the problem by reinforcing harmful social norms. We have repeatedly witnessed women who fled abusive environments with their children being returned to the very cycle of violence they escaped, under the justification of social customs and traditions.”

Rawad is not an isolated case
He is one of countless children living behind closed doors, exposed to violence, neglect, and abuse that rarely reaches public attention. Some have lost parents to death. Others have become casualties of broken marriages, custody disputes, and institutional failures. Many grow up deprived of safety, affection, stability, and even the most basic necessities.

Behind every statistic is a child carrying invisible wounds, waiting to be seen, protected, and heard.

Rawad’s death has forced Libya to confront difficult questions about child protection, women’s rights, and the consequences of legal and social systems that fail to safeguard the most vulnerable.

The question remains: how many more children must be lost before meaningful change arrives—and who will come to save them?