Violence against women: A survivor's flight from community bullying and abuse

The monsoon began in Kamrangirchar as forty-five-year-old Tamanna Begum stepped out of her dim, rented room. "Every day is a new beginning," she whispered in an affirmation of a refuge from the violence that uprooted her life.

Tamanna grew up in South Chandpai village, where she and her husband, Bashar, a day labourer, raised their two sons, Naim and Yamin. "My married life was nothing luxurious, but it was mine," she said. They lived simply, stretching Bashar's irregular earnings while their boys studied hard.

But their neighbour, fifty-year-old motorcycle driver Babul Sheikh, had long harassed her, pushing for a relationship she repeatedly rejected. When she refused, he escalated: spreading rumours, sending men to her home, and fuelling suspicion inside her marriage. For two years, her household strained under doubt.

Everything fell apart in November 2024. One evening, with her husband and sons out, a male relative visited. Babul seized the moment, gathered villagers, and summoned a local online journalist. They burst into her home, accusing her of running a prostitution ring. A phone camera hovered over her face as her pleas were drowned out by the outrage of lifelong neighbours.

"They called me names I had never heard, they insulted my children, my husband. They did not even stop to ask who the man was," she said.

Babul stepped forward once again, promising to silence the journalist if she finally agreed to be with him. Tamanna refused, even as the crowd swelled and the humiliation deepened.

Though the story was ultimately blocked from publication, the damage was done. Bashar did not believe her. Violence followed, and within days, she was forced out. Divorce soon followed.

In March 2025, Tamanna left for Dhaka with her belongings in a bag. Kamrangirchar offered anonymity but little comfort. She found work cleaning homes, enduring long hours and constant judgment. "People say bad things just because a woman is alone," she said.

Her experience reflects how layered violence against women can be—harassment, community policing, rumour, and social exile. 

"There is a need for empathetic, sensitive people to whom one can report," said Sumaiya Akter Shopno of Badabon Sangho's Women Against Violence project, noting their efforts to train volunteers who support women and mediate within families. But resources remain thin, especially in rural communities shaped by deep patriarchy.

Tamanna's story shows how fast communities can fail women and how many like her end up fleeing to cities where insecurity, exploitative landlords, and stigma make rebuilding a daily struggle. "I did not deserve what happened. I only wanted a peaceful life," she said.

Her journey is a reminder of the steep price women pay, and a call to confront the structures that let them be shamed, silenced, and pushed from their own homes.