Bangladesh Feminist Archives

by Preetelata

The renewed conversation around Tangia Zaman Methila has exposed a truth Bangladesh often avoids: we do not know how to talk about harm when the person responsible does not fit our usual image of a perpetrator. Years ago, Methila filmed a man inside a bathroom without his consent. That is not mischief. That is not a joke. That is a violation of privacy in one of the most intimate spaces a person occupies. The fact that so many people are treating it lightly simply because she is a woman shows how deeply confused we still are about consent.

Her apology in 2021 minimized the incident by describing it as childish fun. That framing matters, because when someone explains a violation as a prank, they are choosing to protect themselves rather than acknowledge the harm they caused. Accountability requires honesty, not soft language. It requires naming what happened, not shrinking it into something easier to digest. That honesty has not happened yet, and people have every right to raise that point.

But the public reaction has split into two equally unhelpful extremes. On one side are those insisting that she should be supported simply because she is succeeding or representing Bangladesh somewhere. Their argument has nothing to do with ethics. It is based on admiration, nationalism, and convenience. They reduce consent to an inconvenience that should not interfere with a woman’s success story. This is not feminism; this is selective solidarity with women who are glamorous, talented, or visible.

On the other side are the loud voices demanding her cancellation, not out of concern for consent, but out of eagerness to shame a woman publicly. Their anger is performative and often rooted in resentment rather than principle. This misogynistic energy does not make the original harm less serious, but neither does it make these critics trustworthy in their outrage.

What gets lost between these two groups is the simple fact that consent matters, even when the violator is a woman and the victim is a man. A privacy violation does not become harmless because of gender. A person does not become beyond criticism because of beauty, confidence, or stage presence. And an apology does not become meaningful simply because time has passed.

People are not obligated to vote for her, support her career, or pretend nothing happened. Wanting accountability does not make someone hateful or jealous. It makes them consistent. Likewise, rejecting misogynistic attacks does not mean turning the violation into a minor misunderstanding. It means separating legitimate criticism from gendered hostility. These are different things, and treating them as the same is what keeps Bangladesh stuck in shallow debates instead of honest discussions.

This controversy is not about whether she deserves success. It is about whether we are willing to speak plainly about harm, even when the person who caused it is someone many admire. It is about whether we can hold women responsible without collapsing into misogyny, and whether we can support women without excusing wrongdoing. It is a test of our ethical consistency, not our loyalty.

Methila will continue with her life, as she should. But whether the public chooses to support her or not is up to them. No one is obligated to overlook a clear violation, especially when accountability has not been fully taken. A society committed to consent cannot afford to treat some harms as serious and others as entertainment. The conversation returning now is not unfair; it is overdue. And if there is any lesson to be taken from this moment, it is that harm should be acknowledged honestly, regardless of who commits it.