Published: 11:09 PM, 19 September 2026
Child Abuse in Bangladesh: A Silent Epidemic—Where Does It End?
Smita Jannat
Children are not merely innocent lives; they represent the future of a nation—figures around whom not only their families but the entire country weaves dreams. Yet, those whom it is our duty to cherish and protect are now the primary victims of abuse. From newspapers to mobile screens, the very children who should have filled every sphere with their playful, sweet smiles are instead appearing in news reports as missing persons or as bodies found stuffed in sacks. Who bears the responsibility? Statistics indicate the numbers are rising, and laws exist to ensure protection; yet, justice remains out of reach for the majority. A look at the root causes reveals that this is not merely a matter of isolated crimes, but a systemic failure.
Let us begin with the figures: in the first six months of 2026 alone, at least 404 individuals in Bangladesh fell victim to rape, with 238 of them being children or adolescent girls. A separate count for the first five months of the same year recorded 118 incidents of child rape. Furthermore, data from the past 20 months shows that 643 children died as a result of rape and abuse, while 580 children were raped and 318 suffered sexual assault during the same period. These are not just numbers; they represent the wailing of grieving families, the death of futures, and the destruction of dreams. Discrepancies in the figures arise because different organizations employ varying data collection methods. However, every survey and report conveys the same message: children are far from safe; instead, they live in a state of extreme insecurity.
An analysis of these issues highlights three recurring themes. First, the incidents are widespread, affecting both urban and rural areas alike; this is not a problem confined to marginalized communities, as the numbers are rising at similar rates across all locations. Second, in the majority of cases, the accused is someone within the child's familiar circle—such as a family member, neighbor, relative, or family acquaintance—which complicates the process of bringing the incidents to light. Third, the number of reported incidents is believed to represent only a fraction of the actual total; social stigma, family pressure, and the fear of retaliation often prevent many families from even filing a formal complaint. What is even more distressing for us is that children—who ought to be safest under the care of their parents and subsequently their teachers—find themselves highly vulnerable in those very environments. Recently, allegations and evidence have emerged regarding repeated rape of children by Madrasa teachers. One can hardly trust the so-called religious instructors to whom children are sent to learn about Islam, a religion of peace. Then there is the matter of biological fathers; several incidents of daughters being raped by their own fathers have recently come to light. Are children truly unsafe in this world?
Bangladesh's legal framework is not weak on paper. The "Prevention of Oppression Against Women and Children Act" provides for the formation of special tribunals, and an amendment passed in 2026 created provisions for separate "Tribunals for the Prevention of Violence Against Children" to handle child rape cases. However, the problem lies not in the absence of laws, but in their implementation. Analysts point out that a lack of adequate tribunals in every district, lengthy hearing processes, and a massive backlog of cases mean that trials drag on for years; this delay imposes immense mental and financial strain on victims' families, often causing them to lose the means or the courage to pursue the case.
Furthermore, a lack of adequate, modern forensic laboratories hampers the collection of evidence. The absence of capable forensic infrastructure at the district level leads to long delays between sample collection and the receipt of reports, often compromising the quality of evidence or causing the incident to fade from public memory. Meanwhile, the absence of a comprehensive witness protection law leaves victims and their families vulnerable to social pressure, threats, or counter-pressure from influential accused individuals; consequently, many cases are settled out of court. In essence, far from ensuring proper legal enforcement, the system leaves victims in a state of uncertainty. In a statement to the Daily Ittefaq, child rights analyst Khandakar Farzana Rahman Jajan noted:
There remain doubts regarding the extent to which political parties prioritize child protection in their activities and political mindset—even after signing manifestos on child rights prior to elections.
This is not the only instance of such inhumane abuse against children. Another horrific and organized form of child abuse involves so-called "beggar rings"—criminal groups that kidnap children, force them into begging, and often deliberately maim them physically to elicit greater sympathy. This is not an isolated crime but part of a systematic network involving abduction, trafficking, and exploitation.
A recent case highlights a brutal incident that came to light in Lohagara, Chattogram, in September 2026. A 12-year-old child, who had left home for a haircut, was rescued in a severely maimed condition after being missing for seven months. One of his legs had been amputated, and surgical scars were found on his body. His family alleges that he had been held captive and forced into begging.
This is not an isolated incident. In June 2026, Railway Police in Kushtia arrested two female members of a well-organized child-kidnapping ring. According to their confessions, children abducted from railway stations and crowded areas were sold to another syndicate, which then forced them to beg at various railway stations across the country. This clearly indicates that the crime is not the act of a single individual but the operation of a network functioning like a supply chain, involving distinct roles for kidnappers, buyers, and exploiters.
Under Bangladeshi law, this offense is classified among the most serious crimes. According to Section 12 of the "Women and Children Repression Prevention Act, 2000," if a child's hands, legs, eyes, or other body parts are destroyed or maimed for the purpose of begging or organ trafficking, the accused faces a maximum penalty of the death penalty or rigorous life imprisonment, along with a fine. Despite such stringent legal provisions, there are relatively few precedents of the masterminds behind these rings being arrested and punished; in most cases, it is the weakest links in the chain—marginalized men or women—who get caught, often having been drawn into the racket themselves due to poverty or deception.
A primary reason for the persistence of these rings is a lack of surveillance. The movements of destitute children in railway stations, bus terminals, and crowded urban areas often go unmonitored. Poverty and a lack of family protection are also contributing factors; children from low-income families become easy targets, particularly where parental supervision is limited.
Furthermore, the practice of abducting children in one district and selling them in another complicates investigations, as it requires coordination across multiple police stations and jurisdictions. The most significant failure, however, is that the masterminds remain at large. Police operations frequently apprehend the "collectors" operating on the ground, while the financiers and ringleaders remain unidentified. Child rights activists argue that rescue operations alone are insufficient to tackle this crisis; what is needed is the long-term rehabilitation of rescued children, psychological and physical medical support, and a centralized database for missing children—facilitated by inter-district police coordination—so that rescue data from one district can rapidly aid investigations in another.
Child abuse in Bangladesh is not an isolated criminal trend; it is a systemic crisis where laws exist but enforcement is weak, manifestos exist but budgets are lacking, and empathy exists but the necessary infrastructure is absent. Behind every statistic lies a family that spends years awaiting justice. Unless the judicial system, political will, and social awareness move forward in unison, this crisis will continue to escalate—manifesting merely as rising figures.
Ahead of the 2026 national election, twelve political parties in the country signed a child rights manifesto proposed by UNICEF. However, the question remains: to what extent has this pledge translated into policy priorities? Stakeholders observe that tangible progress regarding the expansion of tribunals at the district level, budget allocations, and the capacity building of law enforcement agencies remains limited.
Recommendations from experts and rights activists consistently highlight several structural measures. These include establishing separate tribunals in every district to reduce case backlogs and ensure speedy trials; enacting comprehensive witness protection laws to enable victims and witnesses to testify without fear of retaliation; expanding modern forensic laboratories to facilitate the rapid and reliable collection of evidence at the district level; appointing merit-based public prosecutors to enhance the quality of case litigation; and establishing effective One-Stop Crisis Centers in every district to provide medical, legal, and mental health services under a single roof. None of these recommendations are new; they have been discussed for years. The issue, therefore, is not a lack of policy, but a lack of political priority regarding implementation.
Smita Jannat is an independent researcher and a columnist
for The Asian Age.
