As I sit in a quiet café abroad, far removed from the streets of Bangladesh, I find myself increasingly troubled by the rise in moral policing back home. The recent surge in violent and controlling behavior targeting women—especially since the fall of Sheikh Hasina’s government—has been both shocking and heartbreaking. It’s not just the viral videos from Cox’s Bazar that make headlines; the reality is far more pervasive. The everyday experiences of women in Bangladesh reflect a disturbing trend of heightened scrutiny, harassment, and judgment that polices women’s bodies and choices.
Everyday Harassment: Women’s Experiences Under Constant Scrutiny
Take the experience of a woman who was simply walking along a public sidewalk near a mosque. She was wearing heels—something completely ordinary for a woman walking home from work—but that ordinary act turned into a moment of confrontation. A man approached her, demanding to know why she was wearing heels so close to a mosque, suggesting she should walk in the road instead. The absurdity of the situation was palpable, yet it was clear that this man felt entitled to police her choices, simply because she was a woman.
This encounter may seem trivial to some, but it is indicative of a larger issue: the constant moral policing that women face in public spaces. It wasn’t just about her heels; it was about control, about asserting dominance over a woman’s right to exist freely in public.
Incidents like these reveal the growing audacity of men who believe they have the right to dictate how women should behave, dress, and even walk.
Another woman shared an equally unsettling experience. She was riding on a bus and, after missing her stop, found herself being followed by a man who insisted on knowing her whereabouts. Despite her clear discomfort, he pressed on, asking for her contact information and telling her he would wait for her. The entitlement in his behavior was blatant—he refused to accept her discomfort or respect her personal boundaries. Like so many women, she had to call a friend to help her escape the situation.
These incidents, though personal, represent a societal problem that has been growing more visible over the past few months. Women in Bangladesh are increasingly finding themselves the targets of unsolicited policing, harassment, and scrutiny, often from strangers who feel emboldened to impose their own moral standards on them.
This sense of powerlessness is something I relate to deeply. Even though I now live abroad and no longer face the same level of scrutiny, the memories of those experiences linger. I know what it feels like to be told that my body doesn’t belong in public spaces, that my choices are always subject to someone else’s approval. And I know how difficult it is to challenge those narratives when they are so deeply embedded in the fabric of society.
The Cox’s Bazar Incidents: Violence and Vigilantism
These everyday acts of harassment occur alongside more publicized incidents of moral policing, such as the violent assaults that took place in Cox’s Bazar. In September, a series of videos surfaced showing women being verbally and physically attacked by a group of men led by Farokul Islam, a local Chhatra Shibir cadre (student wing of Jamaat-e-Islami). Farokul and his gang took it upon themselves to enforce “Sharia policing,” targeting women who were alone at night or wearing Western clothes. In one video, Farokul forced a woman to do squats while holding her ears, beating her with a stick as a crowd watched. In another, a woman pleaded with the police for help after her phone was stolen by the group. The police, shockingly, did nothing to intervene.
The audacity with which these attacks were carried out—and posted on social media—speaks volumes about the climate in Bangladesh. As Dhaka Tribune reported, Farokul boasted about his actions online, showing no remorse and even claiming that the police and army supported him. He received a disturbing amount of support from followers who praised him for “upholding morality.”
This collective complicity—whether from bystanders who remain silent or from the authorities who fail to act—reinforces the idea that women’s behavior must be controlled, that their presence in public spaces is conditional.
What struck me most about these incidents wasn’t just the violence—it was the societal endorsement of it. As in so many other cases of moral policing, including the personal stories shared by women I follow online, the public either silently accepts the harassment or actively participates in it. This societal complicity is perhaps the most insidious aspect of moral policing. It reinforces the notion that women’s rights and freedoms are always subject to the approval of others.
The Complicity of Women in Enforcing Patriarchy
What’s even more alarming is that women themselves often participate in this moral policing. In one instance, a woman riding on the back of a motorcycle felt the intense stares of those around her. Despite wearing a loose-fitting outfit, the scrutiny was so overwhelming that she instinctively wrapped herself in a scarf, trying to hide from the judgmental gazes. This kind of internalized pressure to conform is something that many women experience daily in Bangladesh.
Another woman shared how she was still verbally harassed by a passerby, despite being fully covered in a traditional "orna" (scarf). The man shouted at her, criticizing her for wearing “tight” clothes, even though she had adhered to societal expectations of modesty. This demonstrates a painful truth for women in Bangladesh: no matter what you wear, no matter how modestly you present yourself, you are always at risk of being policed and judged.
What’s even more troubling is when women themselves become enforcers of these societal norms. In Cox’s Bazar, one of the videos showed a hijab-clad woman harassing another woman, pulling off her face mask and shaming her for her appearance.
According to The Business Standard, patriarchy is not just a male mindset—it is a societal system that women also participate in. The internalization of these harmful norms by women reinforces the belief that women who deviate from traditional roles deserve to be punished.
This pattern of women policing other women has been seen in other incidents as well. In 2022, a woman at Narsingdi Railway Station physically assaulted a young woman for wearing a crop top and jeans. The crowd that gathered did not stop the attack; instead, they cheered the woman on, reinforcing the idea that women who dress “immodestly” are deserving of violence.
These stories illustrate the deeply entrenched nature of patriarchy in Bangladesh, where women’s behavior is constantly monitored and controlled, not just by men, but by society as a whole.
Growing up, I witnessed this dynamic firsthand. I saw how women would criticize each other for the slightest deviation from societal norms—whether it was wearing too much makeup, walking too confidently, or staying out too late. These judgments were often framed as concerns for safety or respectability, but at their core, they were about control. Control over how women behave, how they present themselves, and how they navigate the world.
The Emotional Toll of Constant Scrutiny
For women in Bangladesh, the emotional toll of living under constant scrutiny cannot be overstated. Whether it’s the everyday harassment of being scolded for wearing heels near a mosque or the violence seen in places like Cox’s Bazar, the message is the same: women’s presence in public spaces is always conditional. They must dress a certain way, behave a certain way, and stay within the confines of what society deems appropriate, or else face judgment, harassment, and even violence.
One woman who was harassed near the mosque expressed her frustration at not being able to stand up for herself in the moment. She wished she had said something, wished she could have fought back.
But the reality is that for many women, speaking up feels impossible. The fear of further harassment, social ostracism, or even violence keeps women silent, even when they know they are in the right.
This sense of powerlessness is something that resonates deeply with me. Even though I now live abroad, free from the constant gaze of moral policing, I carry the weight of these experiences with me. I know what it feels like to be judged for what I wear, for how I walk, for simply existing in a public space. And I know how difficult it is to challenge these societal norms when they are so deeply embedded in the fabric of everyday life.
Economic and Social Consequences of Moral Policing
The rise in moral policing not only affects women’s safety and freedom but also has broader economic and social implications. According to The Business Standard, gender-based violence and harassment discourage women from participating in public life, whether it’s pursuing education, entering the workforce, or simply enjoying public spaces. The Bangladesh Bureau of Statistics (BBS) has reported a significant rise in unemployment, and the exclusion of women from the workforce will only exacerbate the country’s economic challenges.
When women are afraid to leave their homes or pursue careers for fear of harassment, the entire nation suffers. Bangladesh’s economic growth depends on the full participation of its citizens, and the current culture of moral policing threatens to undermine that progress.
But the consequences of moral policing extend beyond the economic sphere. These incidents also tarnish Bangladesh’s international reputation, sending a message to the world that the country is regressing on fundamental issues like human rights and gender equality. As incidents like those in Cox’s Bazar make international headlines, Bangladesh risks being seen as a nation that is hostile to women and out of step with global standards of equality and justice.
A Path Forward: Legal and Cultural Reform
While the arrest of Farokul Islam is a step in the right direction, it is far from enough. As The Dhaka Tribune reported, Farokul showed no remorse for his actions, instead boasting that “what the law can’t do, the people can.” This mindset is dangerous, and it reflects a broader societal belief that women’s behavior must be controlled by any means necessary.
To combat this, Bangladesh needs more than just arrests—it needs systemic legal and cultural reform. The legal system must take gender-based violence seriously, holding perpetrators accountable and protecting women from harassment.
But beyond that, there needs to be a cultural shift in how women are viewed in society. Women should not be seen as the bearers of honor who must be controlled; they should be seen as equal citizens with the right to live freely, without fear of judgment or violence.
As Dr. Faustina Pereira, a human rights activist, emphasized in The Business Standard, fostering a culture of inclusion is crucial for ensuring that incidents like these don’t continue to happen. This means rejecting the divisive “us versus them” mentality that drives moral policing and instead embracing a society where diversity is celebrated and women’s rights are respected.
A Call for Change
As I reflect on the stories from Bangladesh—both the personal experiences of women navigating public spaces and the broader incidents reported in the news—I am filled with a sense of urgency. The rise of moral policing in Bangladesh is not just a women’s issue—it is a societal issue that affects everyone. The safety and freedom of women are not luxuries—they are fundamental rights. And until Bangladesh recognizes and addresses this, the country will continue to regress.
The women who shared their stories online did so not just to vent their frustration but as a call for change. Their courage in speaking out is a reminder that while the road ahead is long and difficult, it is not impossible. The fight for women’s rights in Bangladesh is ongoing, and it is a fight that requires the solidarity of both men and women, both at home and abroad.
Bangladesh has the potential to be a nation where women are free to walk the streets, wear what they want, and live their lives without fear of violence or harassment. But that potential will only be realized if we are willing to confront the deeply ingrained patriarchal structures that hold us back. Until then, the fight for women’s freedom in Bangladesh will continue—and we must stand with them, no matter how far away we may be.
It is easy to feel overwhelmed by the scale of the problem. Moral policing, gender-based violence, and the marginalization of women are not issues that can be solved overnight. But change is possible, and it starts with recognizing that women’s rights are not a luxury—they are a fundamental part of any just and prosperous society.
As a Bangladeshi woman living abroad, I know the value of freedom. I know what it feels like to walk down the street without fear of harassment, to wear what I want without being judged, to exist in public spaces without constantly being told that I don’t belong. But I also know that this freedom is fragile, and it is something that must be fought for.
For the women of Bangladesh, the fight continues. And as long as they are fighting, I will stand with them, no matter how far away I am.
