From a city of promises to a city of perils

Sonali Begum boarded a crowded bus from Nageshwari, Rangpur, to Dhaka in 2023. She carried little more than a small bundle of clothes and the hope that the city might give her a second chance. At just 15, she had been married off – her parents believing that marrying her young would spare them a heavy dowry. In villages like hers, teenage brides are sought after, valued for their ability to work hard in their husbands' homes and "repay" the dowry through labour.

Her marriage, however, became a quick undoing of whatever dreams she had held. Her husband rarely worked – taking a job for a day, then idling for the next – and the days soon became punctuated with verbal insults, physical beatings, and an air of inescapable control. 

"Whenever I protested, the beatings would increase," she recalls.

One day, after another outburst of violence, Sonali left. With the help of an acquaintance she called her "aunt," she reached Dhaka, first staying in a cramped slum room. Soon, she found work in a juice factory, her shifts stretching from eight in the morning to eight at night.

But safety remained elusive. What began as sarcastic remarks from male colleagues turned into unwanted touches, "gifts" laced with propositions, and offers framed as opportunities. She did not know who to tell or how to seek help.

It was only in late 2024 that she found a way to speak. BadabonSangha, a local organisation, began holding evening courtyard meetings in the colony, explaining different forms of violence against women, sharing government hotline numbers, and introducing community volunteers. Sonali reported her case soon after.

"Even if I do not get justice, I will have no regrets," she says. "But I will be able to help create a safer environment for those who will come from villages to work in Dhaka in the future."

Every day, women from rural Bangladesh travel to Dhaka and nearby industrial zones in search of work. Many are driven by poverty, abandonment, or the need to support children. For some, the city offers a lifeline; for others, it becomes another site of exploitation.

"Women who come from villages are often alone – widows, those abandoned by their husbands, those who have no long-term contact with them, women or teenage girls with physical or mental disabilities, and mothers with children," says Selina Begum, a worker at Badabon Sangha. "They are often the most vulnerable and insecure."

For women like Sonali, the move from a rural home to a city slum does not necessarily mean escaping violence – it can simply mean facing it in new forms. Workplaces, especially in informal sectors such as small factories, street vending, and domestic work, can become spaces of harassment and abuse. The long hours, low pay, and lack of formal complaint mechanisms make the problem harder to address.

Organisations like Badabon Sangha have taken steps to address this gap. Through regular awareness sessions, they equip women with practical tools – government hotline numbers, contact points for local volunteers, and a basic understanding of their rights.

"When we do awareness work, we emphasise giving them hotline numbers, explaining the role of volunteers, and informing them about their environment," says Selina.

The approach has shown results. "Most of the working women who come to Dhaka face some form of violence," says Sumaiya Labannya, programme officer of the Violence Against Women Programme.

"Providing the government hotline number, keeping the community alert – especially for the most vulnerable families such as women or teenage girls with physical disabilities – introducing complaint boxes at workplaces, and increasing awareness through volunteers are helping to raise the number of reports. In addition, women are developing the confidence to protest and resist."

For women who have lived in silence, the act of speaking out can itself be transformative. It challenges workplace cultures that normalise harassment, and it signals to other women that there is a network – however small – ready to stand beside them.

Women migrating from rural areas often share a set of vulnerabilities that make them easy targets for exploitation. Poverty means they cannot afford to be without work; lack of education limits their employment options; absence of family support leaves them isolated in an unfamiliar city.

For teenage girls, the risks are multiplied. Many arrive with little understanding of their rights or the services available to them. For those with disabilities – physical or mental – the barriers are even higher, both in terms of securing safe work and accessing justice.

While laws exist to address workplace harassment and violence, enforcement is often weak. Small factories and informal employers rarely have formal grievance mechanisms. Even in larger workplaces, fear of losing a job can keep women from filing complaints.

Advocates say that systemic change requires more than just individual courage. Beyond awareness, there must be institutional accountability – from employers, local authorities, and law enforcement agencies. Complaint boxes in workplaces, regular inspections, and clear protocols for addressing harassment can make a difference.

Community-based networks, like those facilitated by BadabonSangha, also play a critical role. By building local volunteer groups, they ensure there is always someone within reach who can listen, guide, and connect women to services.

Yet, as Sumaiya Labannya points out, prevention is as important as response. Raising awareness before women face violence can reduce harm and empower them to navigate city life more safely.

This article has been produced in association with Badabon Sangho.