Ja’Yunna Monae’s Survival, Quaydarius Davis’ Pattern, and the Silence in Between
A Black woman survived a brutal attack seen by the world—her attacker was arrested—but many say the alarms aren’t being raised loud enough.
On April 12, 2025, in Tulsa County, Oklahoma, 22-year-old Quaydarius Davis was allegedly captured on surveillance video physically assaulting his ex-girlfriend, Ja’Yunna Monae.
The disturbing footage, taken from neighbors' cameras both above and below Monae's apartment, shows Davis choking her until she lost consciousness, then dragging her unconscious body out of view. The video triggered public outrage after Monaé posted about the incident on social media, confirming what viewers feared they had seen.
“This man choked me until I passed out and peed on myself,” Monae wrote. “He kicked my door down, punched me numerous times, all because I didn’t wanna be with him anymore.” She also confirmed that both she and her neighbors called the police and that she would be pressing charges. “And NO I AM NOT GOING BACK,” she added.
Davis was arrested the following day, on April 13, 2025, and charged with first-degree burglary and domestic abuse by strangulation.
A Pattern Ignored—Until Captured on Camera
Unfortunately, this wasn’t Davis’s first encounter with violence against women.
In March 2021, Davis was accused of assaulting another woman in a Twitter thread that circulated widely. At the time, he was a highly touted wide receiver recruit signed to play for the University of Kansas. The university severed ties after the allegations, but Davis’s football career didn’t stop there. Monae also alleged that Davis assaulted the mother of his child, which landed her in the hospital.
He later enrolled at Jackson State under Coach Deion Sanders, transferred to Texas Southern, and eventually joined Southern University’s football team. He was dismissed from Southern in October 2024 for violating team rules. Days before the April 2025 assault, Davis announced his intent to enter the NCAA transfer portal as a graduate transfer.
Quaydarius Davis isn’t just a man. He’s a Black male athlete. And in many ways, they’re often viewed as hope bearers — symbols of survival, excellence, and triumph over systemic odds.
And despite controversies, Davis remained in collegiate football programs for years.
Was it his status as an athlete or Monae’s status as a Black woman that offered him repeated protection?
A Culture That Protects Potential and Silences Violence
In many athletic institutions, the response to intimate partner violence is inconsistent at best. Policies meant to prevent, punish, or even acknowledge abuse are often selectively enforced. In Davis’s case, his multiple transfers and continued eligibility raise questions about how these systems prioritize performance over accountability.
“It is so unfair to see women experience this level of abuse. You deserve the best in life. You are somebody's daughter, niece, aunty, sister, cousin, friend, confidant, and the list goes on,” one user wrote on Twitter.
And Ja’Yunna Monae’s story is part of a much larger, more painful reality, which shows that violence against Black women is rarely taken seriously, especially when the abuser is seen as promising, respected, or valuable to others.
Strangulation, like what she endured, is one of the most lethal forms of domestic abuse. According to Gail Starr, clinical coordinator for Albuquerque Sexual Assault Nurse Examiners (SANE), a person involved in a domestic violence attack of choking or strangulation is more than 750% more likely to be killed by their offender the following year.
“The way Black women constantly have to risk their lives just to walk away from a toxic relationship is horrifying,” another user wrote under Monae’s Twitter post.
And yet, the conversation around Black women and intimate partner violence remains largely ignored. According to the Institute for Women’s Policy Research, over 40% of Black women in the U.S. will experience physical violence from an intimate partner in their lifetime.
Researcher Dr. Bernadine Waller, whose 2024 study in The Lancet found that Black women are six times more likely to be murdered than white women, said: “They are more likely to be criminalized when defending themselves and less likely to be believed when they ask for help.”
The silence that surrounds Black women’s suffering is not just cultural—it's institutional. Schools, police departments, even friend groups often rally around the accused when he is known, visible, or “has a future.” But Black women like Ja’Yunna Monae are left to advocate for themselves — to be their own evidence, voice, and protection.
What This Story Demands of Us
Monae’s story is not an anomaly. It’s an indictment of the systems that fail to protect, the institutions that shield athletes, and the communities that too often choose silence when the accused “looks like someone we’d root for.”
Her survival should not be the only reason this story matters. This isn’t just about what Quaydarius Davis did. It’s about what he was allowed to do—again and again—because no one stopped him. It’s about the systems that kept opening doors for him while Black women kept walking away with bruises, silence, or worse.
If this is what it takes for the world to pay attention, then something is broken far beyond one violent act. We can’t call ourselves a community if we only show up for the gifted and not the harmed. We can’t talk about Black progress if we keep silencing Black pain.
13 & South is a new publication covering news, investigative stories, and insights on social justice, policy, and systemic inequities impacting Southern Black communities. I value your insights, and feedback and invite your perspectives to contribute to future issues. Please feel free to contact me here or follow me on my socials! LinkedIn, Twitter, IG, BlueSky, and Threads.