They told her not to dream. Shantana decided to become a fighter instead
Apart from being the first Bangladeshi woman to compete in the Taekwondo World Championships, Shantana Rani Roy also had to fight against poverty and the patriarchy to build a life of purpose, and improve the lives of other girls along with her

In 2005, as a student at Rangpur Government College, Shantana Rani Roy found herself drawn to an unusual group of students gathered on campus.
They were practising something unfamiliar yet mesmerising — powerful kicks, disciplined stances and fast-paced footwork. She did not know it yet, but that first glimpse of Taekwondo sparked something inside her — and that would change the course of her life.
Born and raised in the remote village of Haridas in Lalmonirhat's Aditmari upazila, Shantana's childhood was shaped by scarcity, responsibility and a quiet refusal to surrender. She was the eldest of four siblings in a household where new clothes were rare and education expenses meant tutoring others to afford her own books.
Her father Subash Chandra Roy is a smallholder farmer and her mother Jamuna Rani Roy, who passed away a year and a half ago, was a homemaker with a passion for yoga and community work. From her mother, Shantana learned early lessons in both discipline and resilience.
"I didn't get to enjoy my childhood," she reflected. "I didn't have the time to think about marriage or my own life. It was always about survival — mine and my family's."
The girl who refused to disappear
When Shantana was in the ninth grade, her family tried to arrange her marriage. But even as a teenager, she knew what was at stake.
"I was too young. I wasn't mature physically or mentally. I understood that getting married then meant my dreams would die. Even though I was from a remote area, I always had the urge to do something on my own," she said.
That act of defiance would become a defining feature of her journey. She worked as a home tutor to fund not only her own education but also her siblings'. Despite social pressure, she kept playing sports, learning yoga and gradually leaning toward physical activity as a source of empowerment.
"I had always been into sports. When I started Taekwondo, my body adapted quickly. I was flexible, energetic — my childhood of playing everything from football to running helped."
Still, why Taekwondo?
"I had a dream of doing something that requires a uniform," she explained with a smile. "Police, army — those kinds of roles. But my family wouldn't let me join. So when I saw Taekwondo for the first time, I thought: 'This is something I can do'."
She began her formal training that same year with Shito-Ryu Karate in Rangpur. In 2010, she switched to the Rajshahi Taekwondo Association while undertaking her Master's in History at Rajshahi Government College. The following year, she trained at Dhaka's Central Taekwondo Association, where she earned her black belt.
Breaking barriers, wooden boards and earning medals
From 2011 to 2024, Shantana participated in both national and international competitions, earning a total of 14 medals — 10 gold, two silver and two bronze. Her first gold came at the 2012 Second International ITF Taekwondo Championship held at the National Sports Council gymnasium in Dhaka. Her first international gold came in 2014 at the Asian Championship in Kathmandu.
In 2017, she reached a milestone few could imagine: Competing in North Korea at the 20th ITF Taekwondo World Championship in Pyongyang, where she won a bronze medal. She won another bronze in 2019 at the South Asian Open ITF Championship in New Delhi.
"I am the first female player from Bangladesh to participate in a Taekwondo World Championship," she said. "Now I want to win gold and retire from international play."
That goal — gold at the 2025 World Championship in Italy — is within reach. But she cannot get there alone.
"I need financial help," she said. "Going to Italy is expensive. I've already earned silver and bronze. This time I want to come home with gold. But I can't do it without sponsorship."
Martial arts as resistance, not just sport
Shantana's success was never just about personal glory. In 2011, she founded the Lalmonirhat Taekwondo Association (LTA) with the vision of empowering rural girls through martial arts.
"In our society, women face harassment on the roads, at workplaces — even inside their homes," she explains. "I wanted to create a space where girls could learn to defend themselves, to become confident."
At first, she faced resistance. "People asked why a girl would get into something like this. Some thought Taekwondo was like wrestling — tight clothes and physical contact. Parents wouldn't send their daughters," she said. "But when I started winning medals, and people saw me in newspapers and on TV, attitudes changed."
Now, the girls she trains are winning medals too — 46 medals to date. Many of them have found self-worth and recognition in a world that often denies them both.
"I've trained girls who were too scared to leave their homes. Now they ride bicycles wearing Taekwondo uniforms through the village. People stop and stare," she laughed, "in a good way."
Even her grandmother, Kusum Bala, who once faced community gossip — "Why isn't she married yet? Why is she learning to fight?" — now proudly welcomes visitors who come just to meet her granddaughter. "Now they talk to us with respect," said her father Subash Chandra Roy.
Bhakti Rani Roy is one of the Taekwondo students trained by Shantana, who built her initiative from the ground up. Currently a higher secondary student at Saptibari Degree College, Bhakti began training under Shantana when she was in the ninth grade.
"When Shantana Didi first came and spoke to us about this, we thought she was mad. But once we started learning, we realised that this was actually something amazing," she said. Now 20 years old, Bhakti is already a black belt in Taekwondo and dreams of further growth if given the opportunity.
For another one of Shantana's students, Mukti, Taekwondo is more than just a sport. "It's not just about learning it as a game. Taekwondo has made us confident and brave. Even though we're girls from remote villages, we no longer hesitate when we go anywhere. There's always an inner strength within us," she shared.
When the world stopped, she got to work
In 2020, when the Covid-19 pandemic brought life to a standstill, Shantana once again adapted. Seeing how the crisis disproportionately affected rural women, she started a small enterprise: Shantana Handicrafts.
"I already had some basic stitching skills," she said. "And I believe most women do — it's not hard to learn. During lockdown, I thought, why not use this to help women earn something?"
She began training local women in embroidery, nakshi kantha, beading and handmade accessories. Initially just a handful of participants, the number quickly grew.
"Right now, about 15 to 20 women work regularly," she said. "Many more contribute occasionally. The goal is to build a network of at least 500 women across the country who can earn, even if it's just their own pocket money."
Once again, marriage proved to be a disruptor. "Many women get married and then drop out. I have to start over with new people," she said. "Still, those who've stayed are becoming self-reliant."
Products are sold in local fairs, through direct orders, and occasionally in Dhaka and online. "Especially during the pandemic, sales were good. People were buying local, handmade things. That gave us a boost," she said.
A life dedicated to others
Now 40, unmarried, and still living with her father, younger brother, a sister, and her grandmother, Shantana divides her time between Dhaka and Lalmonirhat. She works as a physical education teacher at Cambrian School and College in Baridhara. She also returns regularly to Lalmonirhat to continue training college students, especially at Lalmonirhat Government College.
"I never had time to think about marriage," she said. "From childhood through my youth, it was always about responsibilities, struggles. I had to support myself and others. And now, these two organisations — LTA and Shantana Handicrafts — are my purpose."
Her dream is to build a proper taekwondo academy on a plot of land near her home. "I want to create a space where girls from even the most remote areas can come, train, and build a future," she said.
But again, funding remains an obstacle.
"I believe there are thousands of talented girls hidden in villages across Bangladesh. If given the right environment and opportunity, they will shine. We just need the support of those who have the means." As we wrapped up, she reflected quietly on what has driven her all these years. She stated, "I just wanted to wear a uniform. Now I help other girls wear one too."