Victim’s name should never have been told, perpetrator’s name must never be forgotten

The name of a little girl, an 8th grader, her identity, her life is now etched in headlines, whispered in neighbourhoods, and shared across social media. 

Not because she wanted it. Not because she deserved it. 

But because she was brutalised, her dignity stripped in the most horrifying way imaginable, and then reduced to a statistic in a news cycle that failed her.  

But where is his name? 

The rapist – the perpetrator who inflicted this unspeakable violence – remains faceless, nameless, and shielded.  

This isn't just an error; it's a failure – a failure of journalism, of accountability, and humanity.  

The storm began yesterday. 

A Bangla daily of some renown published a report on the horrific incident of rape, naming the victim, alongside providing other details on her. 

The problem with the report in question wasn't only with what was provided, but also by what was glaringly omitted.  

The perpetrator wasn't even named. No details were provided on the criminal, except details of the crime and the impact on the victim and her family.

A Facebook post shared thousands of times pointed out the blatant irresponsibility of naming the victim while protecting the rapist. 

While they later edited the piece, the damage had already been done. 

The uproar stemmed from a disturbing incident in Mymensingh. By the day's end, even the victim's pictures were everywhere.

The perpetrator, however, remained unidentified, shielded by a system and journalistic practices that prioritised sensationalism over accountability.

But this is not new in Bangladesh's journalism. 

Too often, victims of gender-based violence are named, their stories sensationalised, their tragedies turned into headlines for clicks.  

It's not a practice restricted to Bangladesh. It's a worldwide phenomenon, so much so that there are dedicated guidelines on how to report on sexual violence.

Despite checks and balances, this practice goes beyond insensitivity; it perpetuates a culture of victim-blaming and erasure of accountability.  

Which brings us back to the report published by one of the leading Bangla dailies in the country. 

A name that should have been protected is now public, a move that didn't just defy journalistic norms but also the law in place. 

Section 14 of the Women and Children Repression Prevention Act 2000 imposes a penalty of two years' imprisonment and Tk 1 lakh or both upon anyone who shares news reports disclosing the identity of rape victims. Such news reports may include pictures of the victim during the attack or pictures taken after the incident. Section 20(6) of the same Act provides for in-camera trial for the protection of privacy of rape victims and witnesses to the offences.

Meanwhile, the rapist's identity? Still hidden, lost in the shadows of a system that consistently fails to deliver justice.  

Horrific episode 

In Mymensingh, a little girl, a madrasa student of 8 standard, died after enduring months of unimaginable abuse.  

According to locals and police sources, a boy of Class 10 from a nearby school, had proposed to the girl. 

When she rejected him, he abducted her on 1 June. Over four months, she was held captive and he repeatedly raped her.  

On 6 September, the perpetrator left her outside her home, her body brutalised, and one of her eyes gouged out. 

Her family rushed her to local hospitals in Mymensingh and later in Dhaka. 

Doctors managed to save her left eye but had to remove the right.

They provided her with a cornea to preserve for a potential transplant.  

However, the family, unable to afford further treatment, brought her back home. 

The cornea was kept refrigerated, waiting for her to heal so it could be transplanted. 

She never recovered. After weeks of excruciating pain, the girl passed away on Monday (16 December).  

With tears streaming, the girl's mother said, "Even before her last breath, my child begged me for his eye [perpetrator's]. I demand justice for my daughter's death."

But this wasn't just a crime. 

It is a reflection of a society that normalises violence against women and an incompetent system that lets perpetrators escape justice.  

Can child perpetrators skip accountability?  

What if the perpetrator is a minor? Does that make the crime any less horrific?  

In Bangladesh, the judicial system is unequipped to address crimes committed by minors, especially in cases of rape or sexual assault.  

While international laws and child rights frameworks advocate for rehabilitation, they do not suggest absolving minors of accountability. 

Yet, in Bangladesh, loopholes and inefficiencies often mean that young perpetrators evade justice altogether, emboldened by a society that refuses to hold them to account.  

Is rehabilitation possible without accountability? Should their age erase the gravity of their crimes? These are questions the judiciary has yet to answer.  

Bangladesh's judiciary, especially in cases of gender-based violence, has long been criticised for its inefficiency, bias, and lack of victim-centred approaches.  

According to Ain o Salish Kendra, fewer than 3.66% of rape cases in the country result in convictions.  

The systemic failure begins with the police, who often refuse to file proper reports, and extends to a courtroom culture where victims are humiliated. Add to this the delays in trials and the glaring gender bias, and you have a system that all but ensures impunity for rapists.  

When the perpetrator is a minor, the cracks in the system widen further.  

Bangladesh lacks specialised courts and trained personnel to deal with such sensitive cases. The result? Victims are denied justice, and perpetrators, protected by their age, walk free, leaving society to grapple with unhealed wounds.  

When will we stop blaming victims and start naming the rapists?  

In moments of crisis, the responsibility of journalists extends far beyond simply reporting facts. 

It demands empathy, ethical judgment, and a commitment to protecting the dignity of those affected. 

Journalism should serve as a voice for the voiceless, ensuring that the vulnerable are shielded rather than exposed, and that the focus remains on accountability and justice rather than sensationalism.  

But when journalists choose to name victims but not rapists, they are complicit in reinforcing the very systems that silence women.  

They turn victims into spectacles, erasing their dignity while ensuring that the perpetrators remain invisible.  

The little girl whose name is now known to all deserved justice, not sensationalism. 

She deserved dignity in death, not public scrutiny of her private trauma. Yet, like so many before her, she has become another casualty of a society that thrives on patriarchy and a judiciary that enables it.  

The questions we must ask  

This is not just a journalistic failure. It is a societal one.  

Why do we sensationalise violence against women but protect the identities of the men who commit it? 

Why does the judiciary fail to hold perpetrators accountable, regardless of their age? Why are victims named, but their stories forgotten?  

Until these questions are answered, and until we hold both the media and the judiciary accountable, this cycle of violence, erasure, and impunity will continue.  

The little girl who lost her life will not be the last. Unless we demand better. Unless we do better. 

Zarin Tasnim is an Online journalist at The Business Standard

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