Bangladesh Feminist Archives

Nusaiba Tasfiat Islam

When we talk about rape in Bangladesh, we instinctively picture women and girls as the victims of these heinous crimes. This has been a persistent problem in our society, where sexual violence is buried under stigma and shame, rigid gender norms dominate public perception, and accountability is almost nonexistent. The issue of sexual violence against men and gender-diverse individuals continues to stay invisible—not because it’s rare, but because we refuse to acknowledge it.

Coupled with the persistent myth that “men cannot be raped,” this silence sends a clear message: patriarchy still holds us captive, ingrained in every layer of our lives. Bangladesh lacks gender-neutral laws to address sexual violence, showing the state’s refusal to recognize male and gender-diverse survivors. Left in the shadows, these survivors fend for themselves—unheard, unsupported, and invalidated. This silence is not incidental; it is state-enabled.

While reliable data on male sexual harassment and rape in Bangladesh is hard to come by due to the taboo nature of the subject, reports indicate it is far from uncommon. According to The Business Standard, at least 36 cases of rape against boys were reported in 2024. This figure excludes adult men and gender-diverse victims, whose cases often go unreported. Survivors suppress their trauma due to fear, shame, or disbelief, which can later manifest as depression, anxiety, PTSD, or suicidal ideation. Our judgmental legal framework and a society hostile to sex education only deepen that silence.

In Bangladesh, boys are raised with entitlement and taught gender roles even before they learn their alphabets. This rigid social conditioning traps them in toxic masculinity—afraid of losing the privileges patriarchy grants them, yet blind to how deeply it hurts them too.

Most boys, at some point, have been told, “Why are you crying like a girl?” or “Don’t be girlish.” These phrases may seem trivial, but they reinforce harmful stereotypes: that femininity is weakness, and to express pain or vulnerability is shameful. Being perceived as “unmanly” or “gay” becomes a threat, because traditional masculinity only allows for emotional suppression and anger as an acceptable outlet.

Because of the lack of education on this issue, boys often grow up believing that rape only happens to girls. When it happens to them, they don’t have the language or the safety to speak up. Many dismiss it as a joke or internalize it as shame.

Gender stereotyping harms individuals deeply. Though male superiority is a global issue, in South Asian cultures—especially in conservative households—this hierarchy is even more deeply entrenched.

In 2019, a 45-year-old man in Gazipur was gang-raped, videotaped, and blackmailed. He died by suicide without seeking legal help. In another case, a 20-year-old man was raped by a 44-year-old neighbor, but the case was filed under Section 377 of the Penal Code—criminalizing sodomy rather than recognizing the crime as rape. These cases highlight how the state continues to fail its citizens by refusing to create protective, inclusive laws.

Section 377, a colonial-era law, states:

“Whoever voluntarily has carnal intercourse against the order of nature with any man, woman, or animal shall be punished with imprisonment for life, or with imprisonment of either description for a term which may extend to ten years, and shall also be liable [for a] fine.”

Originally intended to criminalize same-sex intimacy, Section 377 has been weaponized to punish queer individuals and fails to deliver justice to rape survivors. Rather than protecting victims, it dehumanizes and criminalizes them. Transgender and queer individuals—who are often targets of sexual violence—are denied justice, instead persecuted under laws that are remnants of British colonial rule.

This law distorts male rape as immoral, consensual sex rather than violence. Police and courts routinely use it to shame victims and dismiss their trauma, turning survivors into the accused.

More stories of male rape are surfacing, especially involving children. Many child survivors are harmed by someone they know. Reports show that male-on-male sexual abuse is more common in male-only institutions. In Bangladesh, madrasas and boys’ schools have repeatedly been sites of abuse, where predators exploit power dynamics. These institutions, often resistant to sex education, uphold harmful gender norms and silence survivors.

Due to public pressure in recent years, the government has proposed legal reforms to redefine rape—to make it punishable regardless of the perpetrator’s gender, and to expand the definition to include all forms of penetration. But we must stay vigilant. Words without implementation mean nothing. These promises must translate into real change in our legal system.

Child protection laws—like the Penal Code (1860) and the Women and Children Repression Prevention Act (2000)—cover abuse of boys under 18. But adult men and gender-diverse survivors remain unprotected. Most adult male rape cases are dismissed or filed under Section 377, which criminalizes the survivor instead of recognizing the violence committed against them. Many survivors report being mocked or humiliated by police when they attempt to seek justice.

This system is broken, not just for women, but for all of us. We see the misogyny in our laws, inherited from colonial rule, and we continue to follow them without question. We know our boys and men need real education and empathy, but we ignore this because it challenges deeply held beliefs about power, purity, and control.

Only by breaking these chains—colonial, patriarchal, and systemic—can we move toward a safer, more just nation for everyone. Justice and protection should not be determined by sex or gender, but by humanity.

So let’s speak up. Today.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official position of Bangladesh Feminist Archives. We publish diverse feminist perspectives to amplify underrepresented voices and spark necessary dialogue on issues often ignored.