Silence must end

The brutal rape and murder of eight-year-old Ramisa Akter in Pallabi is not merely another tragic headline. It is a devastating reflection of a society where children continue to suffer violence behind closed doors, on unsafe streets, and within systems that repeatedly fail to protect them.

Ramisa's death has shaken the conscience of the nation, igniting protests across Bangladesh and renewing urgent demands for justice and stronger protections against child abuse and sexual violence. Beyond the outrage and mourning, however, lies a deeper question: how many more children must lose their innocence—or their lives—before the silence finally ends?

Ramisa's story is heartbreaking because it represents countless untold stories buried beneath fear, shame, intimidation, and institutional weakness. Every child who suffers abuse carries invisible scars that extend far beyond physical violence. Trauma follows survivors into adulthood, affecting their mental health, education, relationships, and sense of security. 

For many, the pain never truly disappears. Yet perpetrators often remain shielded by social stigma, political influence, weak law enforcement, delayed trials, and a culture that discourages victims from speaking out.

Child abuse is not an isolated crime committed by a few immoral individuals. It reflects deep institutional weaknesses, social indifference, and collective moral failure. Every act of violence against a child exposes gaps within families, communities, educational institutions, law enforcement agencies, and the justice system itself.

Predators frequently operate in environments where warning signs are ignored, complaints are dismissed, and victims are pressured into silence through fear, stigma, or intimidation. In many cases, neighbours stay silent, schools fail to recognise signs of trauma, and authorities act only after an irreversible tragedy occurs.

The psychological burden on affected families becomes unbearable when they are forced to repeatedly relive traumatic experiences while navigating an ineffective legal system. Justice delayed is not merely justice denied; it actively contributes to a culture of impunity in which future offenders feel emboldened by the absence of swift and visible consequences. Without transparent investigations, efficient prosecution, and survivor-centred legal protection, laws alone cannot prevent violence.

This culture of denial and silence creates fertile ground for abuse to continue unchecked. When society normalises harassment, tolerates misogyny, or discourages children from speaking openly about violence, perpetrators gain confidence while victims become increasingly isolated. Silence, therefore, is not merely passive inaction; it becomes active protection for abusers.

A nation cannot claim to value human rights while its children continue to grow up in fear within homes, schools, streets, and institutions that are meant to protect them.

The growing public outrage following the rape and murder of Ramisa Akter demonstrates that people across Bangladesh are no longer willing to accept this cycle of brutality and impunity. Protests on streets, campuses, and social media platforms reflect not only grief but also years of accumulated frustration over recurring violence against women and children.

Students carrying placards, parents demanding accountability, human rights activists organising demonstrations, and ordinary citizens speaking out all represent a broader awakening of public conscience. People increasingly recognise that every unresolved case of child abuse weakens the moral foundation of society itself.

A country's progress cannot be measured solely through economic growth, infrastructure development, or urban expansion while children remain unsafe from sexual violence and exploitation. True civilisation is reflected in how a society treats its most vulnerable citizens. When children lose their safety, trust, and dignity, society loses part of its humanity.

The anger surrounding Ramisa's death is therefore more than an emotional reaction; it is a collective demand for systemic change, accountability, and justice that can no longer be postponed.

Bangladesh possesses legal frameworks intended to address violence against women and children, including provisions under the Women and Children Repression Prevention Act. Yet implementation remains inconsistent, delayed, and deeply frustrating for survivors and their families.

Many victims encounter intimidating legal procedures, social stigma, political pressure, and inadequate institutional support from the moment they seek justice. Families are often discouraged from filing cases because of fear of retaliation, financial hardship, or concerns over social reputation.

In numerous cases, investigations become prolonged, forensic processes remain weak, and influential perpetrators exploit political connections or procedural loopholes to evade accountability. Such delays not only retraumatise survivors but also send a dangerous message that justice can be manipulated or indefinitely postponed.

The psychological burden on affected families becomes unbearable when they are forced to repeatedly relive traumatic experiences while navigating an ineffective legal system.

Justice delayed is not merely justice denied; it actively contributes to a culture of impunity in which future offenders feel emboldened by the absence of swift and visible consequences. Without transparent investigations, efficient prosecution, and survivor-centred legal protection, laws alone cannot prevent violence.

The response to child abuse must move beyond temporary public outrage or symbolic condemnation after each horrific incident. Sustainable change requires structural reform, institutional accountability, and long-term national commitment.

Fast-track tribunals for rape and child abuse cases must become genuinely functional, transparent, and free from external influence so that justice is delivered swiftly and fairly. Law enforcement agencies require specialised training in child protection, trauma-sensitive interviewing, digital evidence collection, and survivor-centred investigation procedures. Police must treat survivors and their families with dignity rather than suspicion or neglect.

Educational institutions should integrate age-appropriate child safety education, consent awareness, digital protection, and mental health literacy into school curricula so children can identify abuse and safely seek help. Teachers and school administrators must also be trained to recognise behavioural signs of trauma and exploitation.

At the community level, accessible and confidential reporting systems are urgently needed, including child helplines, community protection committees, and safe complaint mechanisms within schools and local institutions.

Religious leaders, local representatives, media organisations, and civil society groups must actively help break the stigma surrounding discussions of sexual violence and child abuse.

Equally important is the need for long-term psychological support and rehabilitation services for survivors and affected families. Trauma does not end after media attention fades. Many children suffer lifelong emotional, social, and developmental consequences without proper care and counselling.

Bangladesh must therefore treat child protection not as a reactive crisis-management issue, but as a national human rights priority requiring coordinated action across government institutions, communities, educational systems, healthcare sectors, and the justice system. Only then can society begin to create an environment where children are truly safe, valued, and free from fear.

At the same time, families and communities must challenge the dangerous culture of silence surrounding abuse. Too often, victims are blamed while perpetrators are socially protected. Too often, reputation matters more than justice.

This culture must end.

Protecting children is not solely the responsibility of parents or the government; it is the responsibility of every citizen, institution, teacher, religious leader, and policymaker.

The spirit of resistance rising across the country echoes a simple but powerful truth: children deserve safety, dignity, and love. Their laughter should never be silenced by fear. Their futures should never be stolen by cruelty.

We can no longer whisper while children suffer in darkness. We must become louder than fear, stronger than indifference, and more united than the systems that allow abuse to continue. Breaking the silence is not only an act of protest; it is an act of humanity.

Justice for Ramisa Akter must not fade into another temporary wave of public outrage. Her name should become a turning point in Bangladesh's fight against child abuse and sexual violence. The nation owes her more than grief. It owes every child protection, accountability, and a future free from fear.

Dr Shahriar Hossain is an environmental scientist, journalist, and social justice advocate.

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.