Child sexual abuse: Breaking the silence from global scandals to Bangladesh’s frontlines

Global Shockwaves and Hidden Epidemics

The Epstein scandal reminded the world that child sexual abuse is not confined to one man or one country. It thrives in systems that protect perpetrators and silence survivors. Behind the headlines lies a deeper truth: child sexual abuse is a global epidemic that cuts across borders, cultures, and communities.

United Nations Children's Fund (UNICEF) estimates that 650 million girls and women alive today—one in five—were subjected to sexual violence as children. Among boys and men, between 410 and 530 million, or roughly one in seven, experienced sexual violence in childhood (UNICEF, 2025). These figures are staggering, but they represent more than numbers. Each statistic hides a child who struggled to speak, to be believed, and to heal.

Disclosure is not simply about courage—it depends on whether society listens without judgment. Globally, informal disclosure ranges from 23–54%, while knowledge of where to seek formal help is just 16–28%. Actual help-seeking is far lower, with under 25% formally disclosing and only 1–11% receiving support (Pereira et al., 2020). Boys are even less likely to disclose, constrained by stigma and cultural expectations of masculinity. Survivors who remain silent often cite self-blame, apathy, or believing services are unnecessary.

These realities show that silence is not a choice; it is a survival strategy in societies that stigmatize victims more than perpetrators.

Silence in Adolescence

For me, child sexual abuse is not an abstract issue. As an adolescent, I was assaulted by house tutors—people entrusted with my education and care. I remember the confusion, the fear, and the silence. Disclosure felt impossible. Who would believe me? Would my family blame me? Would society shame me?

Years later, when I finally shared my story, my parents told me I was lying. That moment was as painful as the abuse itself. It showed me how stigma and disbelief wound survivors twice—first through the act, then through denial. My own case reflects a broader reality: disclosure is the hardest step for survivors. Abuse thrives in silence, and silence is enforced by stigma.

In my later work with child rights organizations, I saw this pattern repeated again and again. Children whispered their stories with trembling voices. Some stared at the floor for hours before speaking. Others asked, "Will people say it's my fault?" Disclosure is not just about courage—it is about whether society will listen without judgment.

Survivors often face:

• Stigma: Families worry more about reputation than justice.
• Isolation: Children are withdrawn from school or community activities.
• Secondary trauma: Reporting abuse can mean reliving it in police stations and courts.

My silence as a child was not weakness—it was a fragile shield, a way to survive in a world that cloaks perpetrators in protection while casting victims into shadows of shame.

Bangladesh's Hidden Crisis

Bangladesh faces its own crisis of child sexual abuse. Ain o Salish Kendra documented hundreds of child rape cases in 2025, but experts agree this is only the tip of the iceberg. Perpetrators are often acquaintances—friends, neighbors, teachers, and family members such as uncles or cousins—trusted figures within children's lives (Faruk, Talukder, & Patwary, 2023).

Help-seeking remains rare. Children seldom report abuse to formal systems, citing fear of stigma, disbelief, and retaliation. Families often silence children to "protect honor."

Child sexual abuse does not end with the act itself. Survivors endure a second wave of harm—stigma, disbelief, and silence imposed by those around them. I recall a mother telling me, "We did not report because people will say my daughter is ruined." That sentence broke me. Survivors are not ruined—they are rights-holders. It is society that fails them when it chooses reputation over justice.

Language plays a powerful role in reinforcing this exclusion. Survivors are often labeled "dishonored" or "spoiled." These words strip dignity and perpetuate shame. Rights-based alternatives—shishu nirapotta (child protection), odhhikar (rights)—shift the focus back to the child's inherent dignity. Changing language is as critical as changing systems and infrastructure. Without dismantling harmful words and attitudes, even the strongest laws and policies will fail to protect children.

Global Promises, Local Gaps

International conventions, including the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC, 1989), oblige states to protect children from all forms of violence. Bangladesh reinforced this commitment through the Children Act (2013) and the Prevention of Oppression Against Women and Children Act (2000).

Yet enforcement is weak. Survivors struggle with lengthy trials, limited psychosocial services, and community stigma. In practice, laws collapse in front of survivors' realities. The gap between global promises and local realities is painfully clear.

What Must Change

• Safe Disclosure Channels: Schools, shelters, and communities must create confidential, child-friendly reporting systems.
• Violence Prevention: Programs must address risks in poverty, displacement, and online spaces.
• Inclusive Data: National surveys must integrate child protection indicators to make abuse visible for both boys and girls.
• Language Reform: Campaigns must challenge stigmatizing terms, reframing survivors as rightsholders.
• Policy Enforcement: Laws must move from paper to practice, with strong monitoring and accountability.
• Child-Friendly Psychosocial Support: Survivors need age-appropriate counseling, peer support, and reintegration—not isolation.

Reflection and Call to Action

Working in child rights organizations taught me that rescuing children is not enough. The hardest part is ensuring they are heard, believed, and supported without stigma. Survivors don't just need justice; they need dignity, psychosocial care, and communities that stand with them.

My own silence as a child was shaped by stigma. My parents' disbelief years later showed me how deep that stigma runs. Today, I speak not only for myself but for the countless children who remain unheard.

The Epstein scandal was a global wake-up call. For Bangladesh, it is a reminder that silence is complicity. Recognition is not enough. Action is urgent. Survivors deserve more than sympathy. They deserve dignity, justice, and communities that stand with them.

Child sexual abuse is not a side issue—it is central to justice. From global scandals to Bangladesh's villages, the measure of progress is whether children can live free from fear, violence, and exploitation. Survivors deserve action, dignity, and justice.

What Families and Communities Can Do

Formal laws and institutions are vital, but prevention and response begin at home and in communities. Every parent, family member, and friend can play a role:

• Listen and Believe: When a child discloses, believe them. Disbelief deepens trauma.
• Create Safe Spaces: Encourage open conversations about safety, consent, and boundaries.
• Challenge Stigma: Reject harmful language that labels survivors as "ruined."
• Monitor Trusted Adults: Recognize that perpetrators are often known to the child. Stay vigilant about tutors, relatives, and neighbors.
• Support Survivors: Offer emotional care, accompany them to seek help, and ensure they are not isolated.
• Community Watch: Friends, neighbors, and informal networks can intervene early, report suspicions, and protect children collectively.

Lifelines for Survivors

• Child Helpline 1098: Toll-free, 24/7, nationwide.
• National Helpline Centre for Violence Against Women & Children – 109: Toll-free, 24/7, nationwide.

These hotlines are lifelines for survivors and families seeking urgent support. They are not just numbers—they represent hope, connection, and the possibility of healing.

Sketch: TBS

Shahanoor Akter Chowdhury is a gender rights activist and feminist researcher. Email: chowdhury.shahanoor@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.