Nusrat, the girl in the red scarf

Feni madrasa student Nusrat Jahan Rafi. File Photo
Feni madrasa student Nusrat Jahan Rafi. File Photo

Nusrat has become a symbol. The girl in the red scarf with two sharp eyes and determined red lips has become a known face to us since this April. On 6 April, she was doused in kerosene and set on fire for not responding to sexual approaches made by her teacher.

She breathed her last on 10 April. Before that, on her deathbed she vowed to continue her protest. After her story appeared in the media, people followed the events with deep interest and empathy. They read and re-read the news reports, prayed for her life and demanded punishment of the perpetrators. They protested against the accused local madrasa principal Siraj Ud Daula, Awami League leader Ruhul Amin and Sonagazi police station officer-in-charge Moazzem Hossain.

Earlier, Nusrat’s mother had filed a case with the local police station after the principal tried to sexually harass Nusrat. The OC summoned Nusrat and Siraj to the station and interrogated her. He used inappropriate language during the questioning and recorded it on his phone. The video was later circulated on the social media.

There was no lawyer or any other woman present when the 19-year-old was interrogated. She was crying. This was another phase of humiliation she underwent. No one except her family stood by her when she was going through this trauma. Even her friends did not lend her support, nor the neighbours or the locals. Finally, it was from the law enforcement that she sought help, but this only reinforced her helplessness, victimising her all over again.

This was not the end. While she went to take her exam, the principal's people successfully carried out the plan drawn up by the principal who was behind behind bars. They set her on fire as had been planned. It was a flawless plan easy to carry out amid the intimidated locals, but the undaunted dying girl vowed to continue her battle. Her family was there.

Nusrat lost her battle for life but won the battle for justice. Justice was needed most when she was alive, and when she first informed the police.

Throughout these six months Nusrat's story appeared in the media time to time with updates of the case. Finally, Feni district women and children repression prevention tribunal carried out the verdict today, 24 October, sentencing all 16 accused, including the ex-principal, to death.

Nusrat died, but left behind her legacy. Her family was an exception when she talked about the sexual harassment she was undergoing. They did not try to quell her nor silence her, but did what was required. The law enforcement, contrarily, played an opposite role. Nusrat would not die if proper action was taken right then. Siraj Ud Doula was not the only one to kill Nusrat. It was failure on part of the power politics, the decaying law enforcement and the hostile society.

It is still to be seen whether the verdict is finally carried out and what action is taken against OC Moazzem after trial.

In the meantime, the image of Nusrat has become a symbol of protest, sexual harassment and the condition of women in Bangladesh. Over the past five years, 3,587 were raped in the country, most of whom were children and young girls, according to Ain O Salish Kendra (ASK). Only 3 per cent were sentenced to punishment in the cases that have been tried. The case of Nusrat is one among the 3 per cent.

What about the 97 per cent that goes unpunished? What about the rapes that are not even documented in any case? There are myriad examples. There's hardly any day without rape news.

Amid this gloomy scenario, five officials of Khulna Government Railway Police (GRP) have been accused in a gang rape. At Jashore, other police officials allegedly raped a woman to 'simplify' her husband's case. Such incidents are abundant, ceaseless. Women, children, girls, and boys, none are spared. There is little hope. A society unable to retain its integrity and unity to heal on its own and prevent such occurrence is deteriorating. People are being alienated and they are seeking resort to the law enforcement which, as an inseparable instrument of the state, goes on frustrating. Nusrat's incident brings this to the fore.

Is there any guarantee that another Nusrat would not be harassed when her family files a case of sexual harassment with the police station and die in Bangladesh? If Nusrat becomes a symbol of justice being possible, it can also pose a call to reassess such an essential instrument of the state.