Revisiting the Arabi Islam Suba Case: How an 11-Year-Old Girl Sparked a Media Uproar & Exposed Bangladesh’s Darkest Realities

Written by Nusaiba Tasfiat Islam

Introduction

On February 2nd, images of an 11-year-old girl began circulating on social media with the word “Missing.” When her father, Md. Razib, reported the sudden disappearance of his only daughter, it sparked national outrage. This came amidst a surge in cases of kidnapping, rape, and child endangerment, highlighting the prolonged neglect of law and order in Bangladesh. As posts about Suba flooded social media, and phone calls were made for tips, the nation prayed for her safe return.

Her case struck a chord—her mother, a cancer patient, had come to Dhaka from Rangpur for treatment, adding another layer of vulnerability to the family. Her disappearance gained national attention for multiple reasons, but why did a case that initially ended with Suba safely reunited with her parents turn so dark and bitter?

The Bitterness

To understand this, we need to revisit the beginning of the story. Suba’s father, Razib, turned to Facebook, sharing pictures of his daughter and details about where she went missing, hoping for the community’s help. Initially, responses seemed sympathetic, expressing pity for the father. However, a darker turn came when troubling comments gained prominence. Some questioned Suba’s age with degrading remarks like, “She looks much older. Are we sure she’s just 11?” Others blamed her clothing, suggesting, “If she were covered/in purdah, this wouldn’t have happened.”

These comments reflected a disturbing reality—deeply rooted misogyny and victim-blaming that thrives in this patriarchal society. Research has long established that child abductions do not correlate with a child’s behavior, clothing, or modesty. Yet, such remarks further dehumanized and stripped Suba of her dignity. Her father was just one of many parents facing distress, as countless similar cases occur every day. The cruelty of this rhetoric was undeniable—and one can only imagine the scrutiny Suba’s mother would have endured had she not been a cancer patient.

People & Media’s Reaction

Later that day, Suba’s father filed a report at Mohammadpur Police Station. Initial reports suggested she went missing near Krishi Market, Mohammadpur. After further investigation, she was found in Naogaon—approximately 146 miles from Dhaka. However, relief over her discovery was quickly overshadowed by the police’s handling of the case.

News outlets ran suggestive headlines quoting police officers: “Suba was not kidnapped, she went willingly.” CCTV footage was released, showing Suba holding hands with a man, allegedly 22 years old. More footage emerged of her walking normally alongside two other young men, using her phone. The police implied these were signs she was not under duress.

These clips were shared widely, and public opinion took a drastic shift. Just days before, people had been desperate for her safe return; now, she was being victim-blamed and ridiculed. As someone who closely followed the case in real time, I was struck by how an 11-year-old girl—a child—was suddenly being called degrading names simply for being naively coerced by an adult in a so-called romantic relationship.

The hypocrisy of society, especially Gen-Z, was glaring. Where were the progressive ideologies and open-mindedness we pride ourselves on? Instead of being the change we claim to be, we became the worst versions of the generations we criticize—turning our backs on a vulnerable child and accusing her of complicity in her own exploitation. This only further revealed how deeply ingrained patriarchal and sexist attitudes remain.

The backlash against Suba intensified. She was mocked online, called a “whore,” “liar,” “attention-seeker,” and worse. Some even claimed, “Because of her, we’ll never take missing child cases seriously again.” What made this even more disturbing was that many of these remarks came from young women and girls. The case was no longer about a missing child—it had become a mirror reflecting the ugliest sides of our society’s attitudes toward victims, especially young girls.

The Dark Reality

Over the following days, more details of the case emerged. While Suba was safely returned to her father in Rangpur, no charges were filed against Monir—the man she was allegedly in a relationship with. It was revealed that Suba had met Monir through TikTok when she was just 9 years old—a clear case of online grooming. Yet, this crucial detail was largely ignored.

I saw no apology posts from those who used Suba as a meme, no accountability from those who degraded her. Instead, they doubled down on their narratives, as if this revelation changed nothing for them. Rather than outrage at a grown man exploiting a child, the narrative shifted to downplay Monir’s actions. News outlets described him as a “19-year-old teenage boy,” using language that softened his culpability. Why refer to a legal adult as a “teenage boy” if not to undermine Suba’s ordeal and justify victim-blaming?

Meanwhile, while Suba’s images were plastered across social media, Monir’s face was censored for his “safety.” This blatant bias highlighted the systemic injustices young girls and women face in a society where the scales of justice are already tipped against them.

An Alternative Ending

What if Suba had never made it home safely? What if she had become another tragic statistic—a child victim of rape or murder? Would the public and media have reacted differently then? Would society have expressed sympathy, called for justice, and mourned her loss?

The uncomfortable truth is, yes. Had she been found dead, the same people ridiculing her would have suddenly found their conscience, lamenting her fate. But that’s the issue—a child’s innocence should not depend on the outcome of their victimization.

Suba is a victim—not because of what happened to her, but because she was groomed and manipulated by an adult. She is a child who cannot consent to a relationship, no matter how the story ends. The fact that we only recognize victimhood in the face of tragedy speaks volumes about our collective moral failures. Justice, accountability, and solidarity should be unconditional, especially when it comes to protecting the most vulnerable.

Aftertaste

Suba’s case is not a runaway case—it is the case of a child who was groomed and exploited by an adult. She is a child with a sick mother and a working father who couldn’t always afford to give her time. She is a child who went viral for going missing, only to be met with victim-blaming, humiliation, and systemic failures upon her return.

In the end, we all failed Suba—not just as a society, but as individuals who should have known better.

Reference articles: