When we look at the numbers coming out of Police Headquarters for the first eight months of this year, it is hard not to feel worried. With 4,654 rape cases filed between January and August, including 1,940 recorded from March to June alone, we are facing an increase of 412 cases over the same period last year. Even senior police officials have admitted that this sharp rise is alarming. Yet the growing concern goes far beyond the statistics. What makes matters worse are reports that in many cases, influential local figures are protecting the accused, eroding public faith in equal justice under the law.
Home Minister Salahuddin Ahmed, however, has suggested that part of this rise reflects a positive shift, noting that survivors now feel freer to walk into police stations without facing the heavy social or political pressure that once kept them silent. Helping victims come forward is certainly welcome, and we must never discourage people from reporting crimes. Even so, an easier path to filing a complaint does not make the violence any less cruel; moreover, it does not excuse our failure to protect the innocent before harm is done.
Against this backdrop, credible accounts tying several of the accused men to local political groups are deeply distressing. Across districts from Jashore to parts of Dhaka Division, police insiders have quietly admitted that some sexual offenders operated under the shelter of party networks, with arrests involving activists across political lines. When a party connection becomes a shield against accountability, ordinary families are left completely defenceless, and this should not be allowed.
Meanwhile, we only need to look at recent tragedies to see the terrible human cost of this impunity. The rape and murder of seven-year-old Ramisa in Pallabi, the brutal attack on four-year-old Faria in Chattogram and the killing of a young schoolgirl in Pabna have left the whole country in mourning. Together, these losses lay bare a painful truth: weak punishment, slow trials, and the belief that well connected offenders can slip past the law continue to embolden predators.
Nevertheless, promising strict action means nothing to grieving parents if it stays limited to official speeches. Starting an inquiry only after a child’s life has been destroyed is, therefore, no longer enough. Police officers must be free to follow the truth without worrying about phone calls from local politicians, while our courts deliver swift, fair verdicts no matter who stands behind the accused. Concurrently, we must also take real steps to prevent these crimes, building stronger community vigilance and safer streets and schools so that our children are shielded before tragedy strikes.
More importantly, a country is judged not by the comforting words of its leaders, but by whether its women and children can step outside their homes without fear. The responsibility now rests squarely on those in power. Through steady, fearless action, the government must thus prove that political patronage will never shield sexual offenders, and that justice in Bangladesh belongs strictly to the courts, never to the powerful.