No place is safe, no one is safe: A world at war with women and children

An eight-year-old girl raped by a distant relative in Ashulia. 

A 42-year-old arrested over the rape of a teenage girl with disabilities in Narayanganj. 

A 70-year-old man detained for allegedly raping a child in Chattogram. 

Two teenage boys detained for allegedly raping a six-year-old. 

A 10-year-old was raped by her neighbour in Gulshan. 

A father arrested for raping his 10-year-old daughter at home. 

A pregnant woman gang-raped in South Keraniganj. 

A schoolteacher raped a fifth grader. 

Two siblings with disabilities were raped in Jatrabari. 

An Intellectually challenged woman was raped in Sylhet. 

A 20-year-old man was raped in Narayanganj.  

A Satkhira youth was arrested on charges of raping speech-impaired girl. 

These are some of the headlines of cases reported in the past month.

And then today: Eight-year-old Magura child dies after being raped at home by her sister's father-in-law. 

She was only eight. 

Her tiny body bore the unthinkable, enduring several cardiac arrests before surrendering to the brutality inflicted upon her.

This afternoon, the eight-year-old rape victim from Magura died at Dhaka's Combined Military Hospital (CMH). 

The little girl was raped and brutally attacked at her sister's house by her sister's father-in-law with the help of his two sons – one of them her own brother-in-law, among the very people who should have protected her.  

For nine days, she clung to life, suffering through seven cardiac arrests before finally succumbing to her injuries. 

Imagine seven cardiac arrests wracking a tiny body. Imagine what she must have gone through to even suffer seven cardiac arrests.

She was just a child – too young to understand the cruelty of the world that failed her. 

Now she is gone. And she is not the first. She will not be the last. Her story will fade from the headlines soon, more names will take her place, as it always does.

Their homes, their schools, the streets, the beaches, the public transport – there is no refuge. 

The headlines are relentless, each one more horrific than the last.

The frequency of such crimes is staggering, almost as if the perpetrators are in a gruesome competition.

These are not isolated incidents. They are part of a global epidemic.  

No place is safe, no one is safe.

The World Health Organization (WHO) reports that nearly "one in three women worldwide" has experienced physical or sexual violence in her lifetime. 

According to UNICEF, 370 million women worldwide – one in every eight – have been subjected to rape or sexual abuse before turning 18.  

UN Women reveals that "245 million women and girls" suffered intimate partner violence in just the past year. 

A 2020 study titled "Child Sexual Abuse in Bangladesh" also found that in most cases, the perpetrators are known to the victims.

Statistics from Ain o Salish Kendra (ASK) reveal that 3,438 children have been raped in Bangladesh over the past eight years. Among them, at least 539 were under the age of six, while 933 were between the ages of seven and twelve.  

It's rarely the stranger in the dark  

The numbers are rising. 

The perpetrators? They are not shadowy figures lurking in dark alleys. They are fathers, uncles, husbands, teachers, neighbors – mostly men known to the victims.  

Society tells women to be careful. Don't walk alone at night. Don't dress provocatively. But the truth is, most attacks happen where women should feel safest – inside their homes, in their communities, at the hands of people they trust.  

This is why the argument that "women's clothing provokes rape" is not just ignorant but insidious.

Not long ago the harrowing Gisèle Pelicot case in France shocked the world. 

For over a decade, she was drugged and raped, by her own husband, by men her husband brought into their home, and by a system that looked away. 

In December 2024, a French court found at least 20 men, including Pelicot's own husband, guilty of repeatedly raping her for over a decade. 

The case, as BBC reported, was "one of the largest sexual violence trials in French history" and revealed how systemic misogyny enables perpetrators to act with impunity. 

The details are gut-wrenching – Pelicot, a 72-year-old woman was drugged, and subjected to relentless abuse by men who saw her as nothing more than an object to be exploited. 

Yet Pelicot's suffering was not an anomaly. It was a consequence of a world where men believe they own women.  

Bangladesh tells the same story. Ain o Salish Kendra (ASK) reports that at least "one woman is raped every nine hours" in Bangladesh. This is only based on reported cases. 

The real number? Far worse, as countless cases go unreported. 

"We estimate that about 30 out of every 100 incidents are never reported," said Barrister Jyotirmoy Barua, a supreme court lawyer. 

Violence against women and children is the byproduct of patriarchy

The Pelicot case exposes what feminists and researchers have long argued: violence against women is not about sexual desire, nor is it a matter of impulse control. It is about power, domination, and the patriarchal structures that allow men to see women as possessions to be used and discarded.

Rape is not an act of sudden temptation. It is calculated. It is premeditated. It requires planning, from finding a place where no one will hear the screams, ensuring the victim cannot escape, silencing them with threats or drugs, and manipulating them into submission, to relying on a society that will look the other way. 

Gang rapes require even more coordination. These are not crimes of impulse. They are acts of predation.

Studies on rapists reveal a chilling truth – most do not commit the crime out of sexual desire. The primary motivation is to exert power, to humiliate, to break someone's spirit. This is why fathers rape daughters. This is why a group of men, be that father and son together, attack a woman without hesitation. It is not about sex; it is about dominance.

Violence against women continues because the world lets it. 

Victims are blamed. 

Perpetrators are excused. Survivors who speak out are silenced, shamed, or ignored. Courts demand they prove their trauma in excruciating detail while their rapists are given the benefit of the doubt.  

Men who commit these crimes rarely face real consequences. 

A husband beats his wife, and she is told to endure it for the children. A group of men gang-rapes a woman, and the court asks if she "led them on." The system not only fails women – it is designed to protect their abusers.  

Male child sexual abuse in Bangladesh

Sexual assault on male children is a pressing issue in Bangladesh, yet it often remains overlooked in both legal frameworks and societal discourse. 

"Our laws do not address the issue of male child sexual assault. The definition in Bangladesh's law does not even acknowledge the possibility of boys being victims of sexual assault," said Shahnaz Huda, a professor at the University of Dhaka's Department of Law, during an interview with BBC Bangla.

This blind spot in the legal system contributes to the invisibility of male victims and perpetuates a culture of silence around the issue.

Statistics from Ain o Salish Kendra (ASK) revealed that in 2024 alone, 36 cases of male child rape were reported, with three attempted rape. 

Internationally, UNICEF estimates that between 240 million and 310 million boys worldwide experience some form of sexual abuse in childhood, equating to one in every 11 boys. 

Despite these alarming figures, male child sexual abuse, particularly in religious educational institutions, continues to be grossly underreported and insufficiently addressed.

The pervasive silence around these incidents can be attributed to patriarchal structures that frame sexual violence primarily as something that happens to women only. 

In a patriarchal society, men and boys are often seen as the perpetrators of violence rather than victims. This gendered bias shapes the societal response to abuse, leaving male victims to navigate not only the trauma of their experiences but also the stigma of being perceived as weak or emasculated for coming forward.

The patriarchy embedded in the system ensures that male victims, much like their female counterparts, remain marginalised, their stories unheard, and their suffering invisible. 

Only through a collective shift in cultural attitudes and legal reform can society begin to acknowledge and address the sexual violence that impacts boys just as profoundly as it does girls.

Whether in France, Bangladesh, or any other part of the world, the underlying pattern remains the same – societies that devalue the most vulnerable group create environments where such crimes flourish. 

The same societal attitudes that blame victims also fuel rapists' sense of entitlement. The belief that women should be "taught a lesson" for defying norms is what drives these crimes. 

This is a war. A war where women and children are the casualties, and society remains complicit. 

When will we wake up? When will we fight back? When will we demand a system that does not just react to rape but prevents it?

Until that day comes, the headlines will keep coming. And so will the screams.