Why is safe mobility still a gendered struggle in Bangladesh?
Safe mobility is more than a logistical necessity; it’s a right. Women shouldn’t have to choose between freedom and safety
Google 'how to stay safe as a female travelling solo to Bangladesh,' and you are likely to find advice like dress modestly, avoid the dark, and stay hyper-alert — essentially trading joy for vigilance — as the common search result.
Women are expected to navigate their journeys in a constant state of caution, as though life itself is a simulation game where every stage presents a new challenge, another form of harassment or violence, and they must figure out how to survive it.
In a 2022 gender assessment study conducted by the Power and Participation Research Centre (PPRC), a woman in her 30s living in Dhaka remarked, "Using public transport feels like heading into battle every day." Another survey conducted under the same study revealed that women often avoid foot over-bridges due to poor lighting and their reputation for harassment.
Sexual harassment in public transport and open spaces has become so normalised that it feels like an unavoidable part of life for most women. This spectrum spans from the uncomfortable male gaze and inappropriate comments to public humiliation and molestation, with 'minor' offences often dismissed as inconsequential.
But these experiences — being objectified and having one's personal space invaded — can leave lasting scars, creating a toxic mix of anxiety, humiliation, and fear. The pervasive normalisation of such behaviour makes it harder to identify when boundaries are overstepped, and even when harassment is recognised, speaking out against perpetrators remains daunting — if not outright impossible.
The most alarming finding from the same PPRC study is that harassment restricts women's educational and professional opportunities. Many women reported being compelled to drop out of school or quit their jobs.
A large number of participants indicated that they need companions in risky situations, such as travelling after dark. Women from poorer families face additional financial stress, often forced to pay for expensive transport to avoid harassment. Some even conceal incidents of harassment from their husbands, fearing they will be forbidden from working altogether.
When we consider mobility, we often emphasise the physical environment — streets, public spaces, and amenities that make walking or commuting safe. But for women, mobility is much more than a logistical issue; it is a battleground for equality.
Fear of harassment forces women to alter their choices, curtail their aspirations, and even give up opportunities. The normalisation of harassment has deeply limited their freedom, yet society often fails to recognise the gravity of this problem.
Reflecting on the link between harassment and restricted mobility, I remember an instance where a male classmate asked our professor why mobility should be considered a parameter for women's empowerment when so many other socioeconomic indicators exist.
His question initially made me angry. How could he be so blind to the lived realities of women? But as I thought about it more, I realised it wasn't just ignorance — it highlighted how deeply misunderstood women's need for safety and access to public spaces is.
Mobility is not merely about getting from one place to another; it is a symbol of freedom, opportunity, and equality. The absence of safe public spaces and transportation disproportionately affects women, dictating their choices, limiting their potential, and reinforcing systemic inequalities. This issue is indeed a gendered one that underlines the stark difference in how men and women experience the world.
Although various measures have been implemented to enhance the safety of women, such as the introduction of female-only transportation services, these initiatives often remain out of reach for many individuals. The primary barrier is the high cost associated with such services, which limits accessibility primarily to those who are already in a privileged position economically.
For most women, the battle for safe mobility continues daily. This disparity leaves a significant portion of the female population without safe transportation options, highlighting the need for more inclusive solutions that can serve all women, regardless of their financial circumstances.
Since last July, the spirit of revolution has touched almost everyone in the country. But post– 05 August, despite the collective fight for rights, incidents of gender-based violence have not abated. Public harassment, from berating women for their clothing to more extreme forms of violence, remains alarmingly common. While only a few incidents are significant enough to make the headlines, countless lesser-known incidents may go unreported, yet still leave women feeling a chill in their bones.
Mobility justice is an essential concept that deserves more attention. Women-friendly public transportation must be accessible and affordable to ensure that women's mobility — and by extension, their potential — is no longer hindered. Policies must address not only the physical infrastructure of cities but also the societal attitudes that allow harassment to thrive.
With the recent surge in public incidents of berating women in public for their clothing or other personal choices, this issue has become relevant for every girl in our country. Unfortunately, many victims often breathe a sigh of relief when their experiences with harassment aren't as severe as they could have been.
This reaction reflects our collective sense of hopelessness regarding the possibility of real change that can improve the situation for women. Safe mobility is more than a logistical necessity; it is a right. Women shouldn't have to choose between freedom and safety — true empowerment demands that mobility becomes a right, not a privilege. A society that fails to provide equal access to public spaces reinforces systemic inequality. It is time we demanded more than survival — we must demand freedom.
Mahjabin Rashid Lamisha is currently working as a currently working as a Research Assistant at Power and Participation Research Centre (PPRC)
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions and views of The Business Standard.