The 16 Days of Activism against Gender-Based Violence is an annual global campaign observed from 25 November (International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women) to 10 December (Human Rights Day), highlighting the urgent need to end violence against women and girls.
Internationally, the UN Women 2025 theme for the 16 Days of Activism is “UNiTE to End Digital Violence against All Women and Girls.” Violence against women and girls affects one in three women. It is a global human rights emergency that must stop.
When it comes to violence against women (VAW), the global and national statistics are dismal. And these statistics are not just numbers. They are the scar on a woman’s arm, more visible than the scar embedded in her soul. They are the bent head of a girl walking home from school, trying to shut out the wolf whistles and lurid taunts. They are the smaller serving on a daughter’s plate at mealtimes. They are dowry. They are rape. They are death. They are the projected ideal of a woman “tolerating” all abuse with stoic endurance, her suffering portrayed as virtue.
With elections around the corner, it is imperative that political parties make their stance on women’s issues clear. This is not about “protecting” women. It is about ensuring that women receive what is rightfully theirs
Of course, we have come a long way. The picture is far from perfect, but progress has been made. Amid all the darkness, there are heartening tales that line the clouds with slivers of silver.
Let me share a few anecdotes that may seem insignificant, yet carry a telling message.
First, I must give kudos to two sectors that have radically changed the lives of women in Bangladesh: the NGO sector and the readymade garment industry.
While the NGO sector may have lost some of the vibrancy it had a few years ago (for a number of reasons), it has undeniably been a driver of change. I recall visiting a small village in Rangpur just over a decade ago. I was researching the impact of microcredit. I walked into a yard where a woman was cooking on her mud stove. I asked if she had received any microloans. She said yes. I asked whether it had made any difference in her life. Again, she said replied in the affirmative. I persisted, assuring her I wasn’t from BRAC, Grameen, or any NGO, but simply wanted to understand how it had helped. What difference had the loan made?
She smiled slowly, untied the knot at the end of her sari aachal, and took out a ten taka note. She unfolded it and held it up.
“You see this ten-taka note?” she asked. “Never before in my life had I held a currency note. I didn’t know the difference between a ten taka note and a two taka note. I hardly ever saw money. If I needed anything, or if the children needed anything, my husband would get it for us (or not). I never touched money. This is a special feeling.”
Her husband may have taken the loan money from her to invest in cow rearing or poultry, as per NGO guidelines, but he had to take it from her. She could keep ten or twenty taka for herself, to buy betel leaf, glass bangles, ribbons for her daughter, a toy for her son, or simply save it for a rainy day. It was hers. It was power.
Fast forward. A few years ago, I was going to the office early one morning. Streams of women were heading to work in the readymade garment factories, carrying their lunchboxes and umbrellas, hurrying along and chatting as they went.
Suddenly, my driver slammed the brakes and honked loudly. A group of women workers had stepped off the pavement and begun crossing the road right in front of our speeding vehicle. Were they scared? Taken aback? Not at all. Quite the contrary. They glared at the poor driver for honking, hurled a few unprintable expletives his way, and then calmly continued across. They were in the wrong; my driver was in the right. But I had to hide my smile. These were women who were not part of any feminist movement, who had never been taught about their rights. Their confidence and chutzpah came from their honest, hard-earned wages, their labour that fuels the national economy. From downtrodden to dauntless -- surely they can be forgiven the occasional virulent outburst!
There are innumerable such stories that form a mosaic of women’s empowerment. But sadly, they are outnumbered by stories of repression and discrimination. It is still a case of one step forward, two steps back.
With elections around the corner, it is imperative that political parties make their stance on women’s issues clear. This is not about “protecting” women. It is about ensuring that women receive what is rightfully theirs. This is not a favour. Keeping women at home does not keep them safe. Ensuring equal wages and equal rights at every level and every step is essential.
Sixteen Days of Activism should translate into a lifetime of equality and justice.
* Ayesha Kabir is the head of Prothom Alo English Online.