The rape and murder we condemn today: Are we ready to prevent the next one?

Bangladesh is once again grieving the horrifying rape and murder of a child, Ramisa. Social media has been flooded with grief, frustration, and demands for justice. Some activists and rights campaigners are calling for exemplary punishment for the perpetrator or perpetrators.

Others have even urged lawyers not to defend the accused, although the justice system emphasises every individual's right to legal defence.

At the same time, the government's response has been swift. Home Minister Salahuddin Ahmed assured that police would submit the charge sheet as quickly as possible following a fast-tracked investigation.

Similarly, Law, Justice and Parliamentary Affairs Minister Md Asaduzzaman reportedly instructed the Dhaka Metropolitan Police commissioner to submit the investigation report within a week. Law enforcement agencies also deserve recognition for promptly arresting the prime suspect.

Yet an uncomfortable question remains: why do such crimes continue to occur repeatedly?

This is not the first case involving the rape and murder of a child in Bangladesh. Public outrage and demands for exemplary punishment may offer temporary emotional release, but unless society confronts the deeper structural issues behind such violence, it is unlikely to be the last.

Every time such a brutal incident occurs, social media erupts with emotion, condemnation, protests, and calls for justice. Some campaigners also demand capital punishment.

These responses are both important and necessary. But once the protests subside and media attention shifts elsewhere, does society genuinely confront the root causes that allow such crimes to persist?

The debate, therefore, must move beyond punishment alone. Society must also ask whether the state and its institutions are truly prepared to prevent the next crime. Does Bangladesh have functioning child protection systems across both urban and rural areas? Are teachers, madrasa authorities, local representatives, and community institutions properly trained to identify risks?

The first question that naturally arises is whether Bangladesh lacks laws to address crimes such as rape and murder. The answer is no.

Bangladesh already has an extensive legal and institutional framework aimed at addressing such crimes.

Yet repeated incidents continue to expose a painful reality: the existence of laws alone does not guarantee protection.

According to media reports, the conviction rate in rape cases remains below 1%, while more than 1 million cases are currently pending before the Women and Children Repression Prevention Tribunals. More than 10,000 rape cases have reportedly remained unresolved for over five years.

These figures raise serious concerns about implementation, institutional accountability, and the broader law-and-order situation.

Weak investigations, social pressure on victims' families, unequal power dynamics between perpetrators and victims, and lengthy judicial processes continue to erode public confidence.

This erosion of trust is reflected in the words reportedly spoken by Ramisa's father: "I do not want justice because you cannot deliver it."

This is not merely the statement of a grieving father mourning his child. It is also a devastating expression of public distrust built up over years of repeated violence, delayed justice, fading public attention, and broken promises.

It exposes a deeply rooted structural crisis.

The tragedy, therefore, is not only that a child was raped and murdered, but also that her father no longer believes the system is capable of delivering justice.

However, limiting the discussion solely to punishing an individual perpetrator may also prevent society from understanding the broader structural crisis.

Structuralist thinking in social science suggests that human behaviour does not emerge in isolation. Individuals operate within wider social, cultural, institutional, and psychological structures that shape actions, silence, vulnerability, and violence itself.

Émile Durkheim argued in The Division of Labour in Society (1893) and Suicide (1897) that social disorder often reflects deeper weaknesses within collective institutions and moral regulation.

Later, Michel Foucault argued in Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison (1975) that silence, institutional failure, and unequal power relations can normalise violence within society.

These perspectives do not reduce individual responsibility; rather, they expand society's collective responsibility.

According to media reports, the accused's wife allegedly assisted in facilitating the crime. She later reportedly told journalists that her husband was habituated to "perverted sexual acts".

If these allegations are true, they raise deeply uncomfortable questions for both society and the state.

Why was such alleged violence against his wife — or potentially others — never reported earlier? Did victims fear social stigma? Did they lack trust in authorities? Did they feel there was no safe mechanism through which to seek protection?

Or had violent behaviour become normalised because, in many social contexts, silence feels easier than confrontation? 

These are difficult questions, but avoiding them will not protect future victims.

If another wife, sister, child, or student experiences similar abuse or notices alarming behaviour within a family or community, do they have access to a safe and trustworthy reporting mechanism? Can they seek help without fear of humiliation or retaliation?

This is where the issue extends beyond an individual criminal act.

Of course, perpetrators must face justice. Nothing can justify rape or murder, regardless of the victim's age, gender, ethnicity, or socio-economic background.

If found guilty through due legal process, the accused must face exemplary punishment.

But neither the state nor society can avoid responsibility for identifying risks before violence escalates to irreversible levels.

Preventive mechanisms matter because punishment comes only after a life has already been destroyed.

Alongside ensuring justice, the state must establish effective and accessible systems through which individuals can safely report abusive behaviour, seek protection, and reclaim their security before tragedy occurs.

In many such cases, society later hears claims that the perpetrator was "mentally unstable" or psychologically disturbed.

This cannot be used as an excuse to reduce criminal accountability. Legal responsibility must remain uncompromised.

At the same time, however, society must ask whether Bangladesh has invested sufficiently in mental health awareness, behavioural intervention systems, child protection monitoring, and community-based reporting structures capable of identifying warning signs before violence escalates.

The reality is that Bangladeshi society is changing rapidly. Children and adults are increasingly exposed to harmful influences through digital platforms, exploitative online spaces, and unhealthy social environments.

Economic pressure, social frustration, addiction, isolation, and untreated psychological distress are also becoming increasingly common realities.

Whether society accepts it or not, these factors can shape human behaviour in dangerous ways when corrective mechanisms are absent.

Yet discussions surrounding mental health and behavioural risks remain heavily stigmatised.

Families often conceal violent behaviour instead of seeking intervention. Educational institutions frequently lack trained counsellors. Community leaders remain unequipped to identify signs of abuse or predatory behaviour.

Meanwhile, victims and vulnerable individuals continue to suffer in silence.

The debate, therefore, must move beyond punishment alone. Society must also ask whether the state and its institutions are truly prepared to prevent the next crime.

Does Bangladesh have functioning child protection systems across both urban and rural areas? Are teachers, madrasa authorities, local representatives, and community institutions properly trained to identify risks?

Is there a confidential reporting mechanism accessible to ordinary citizens?

Do women and children trust that reporting abuse will ensure protection rather than shame, intimidation, or further danger?

Do law enforcement agencies possess adequate support systems to intervene before crimes occur?

The rape and murder of a child is not merely a criminal incident. It is also a warning signal for society.

Yet public discourse often remains trapped between two extremes — emotional outrage on one side and immediate administrative responses on the other.

What remains absent is a sustained national conversation about structural prevention.

Without effective preventive mechanisms, society risks repeating the same cycle: a horrific crime, collective outrage, promises of justice, media attention, fading memory, and then another child becoming the next headline.

The responsibility, therefore, lies with all of us — the state, institutions, families, educators, communities, and citizens — to ensure that outrage is not our only response.

Justice is essential. But prevention is equally necessary if Bangladesh truly wants to stop the next crime before it happens.

Mushfika Jahan is the Founder of the World Humanist Foundation and Mental Health Advocate. She can be reached at memushfika@yahoo.com 

Md. Abul Basar is an Anthropologist and Governance Expert, serves as the Team Leader at a Switzerland-based international organisation. He can be reached at bashar.arif@gmail.com.

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions and views of The Business Standard.