Why it’s not okay for an underage girl to get married

Early or underage marriage puts girls at serious long-term physical risk. Teenage pregnancy can cause premature osteoporosis, because the growing mother’s bones are drained of calcium by the foetus, and nutritional deficiencies further weaken her skeleton.

Marriage illustrationProthom Alo illustration

There is a dangerous oversimplification creeping into our public discourse in Bangladesh: the idea that if teenagers are old enough to feel attraction or engage in relationships, they are somehow ready for marriage. This argument is not just flawed, it is deeply harmful.

Marriage is not merely about romance or sexual activity. In our society, it is a complex, lifelong institution shaped by family control, economic pressure, and rigid gender expectations. It brings with it responsibility, power dynamics, and irreversible consequences. To place that burden on a 15- or 16-year-old is to fundamentally misunderstand what both adolescence and marriage mean.

At that age, a person is still in the process of becoming. Emotionally, psychologically, and intellectually, they are developing their sense of self. In Bangladesh, this is also the most critical phase for education.

Secondary school, college, skill-building—these are the years that determine whether a girl will stand on her own feet or remain dependent for life. Marriage interrupts that process. A girl who is married at 15 is not just entering a household; she is exiting her future.

One of the most dangerous myths in our society is that a girl becomes “ready” for marriage the moment she starts menstruating. Biology does not work that way. The reproductive system, pelvic structure, and overall physical capacity required for safe childbirth are not fully developed at 15 or 16. When a young girl is pushed into pregnancy, the risks are not theoretical—they are immediate and often life-threatening.

Complications like prolonged or obstructed labour, severe bleeding after childbirth, and pregnancy-induced conditions such as eclampsia are significantly higher in teenage pregnancies.

In many cases, the baby cannot pass through the still-developing pelvis, leading to hours of painful labour, internal injury, or emergency situations where both mother and child are at risk. Survivors may suffer lifelong conditions such as obstetric fistula, leading to chronic pain, incontinence, and social isolation.

Early or underage marriage puts girls at serious long-term physical risk. Teenage pregnancy can cause premature osteoporosis, because the growing mother’s bones are drained of calcium by the foetus, and nutritional deficiencies further weaken her skeleton. Child brides are also more vulnerable to chronic pelvic complications, prolonged labour, and lifelong health problems.

Early marriage often leads to multiple pregnancies, compounding these risks and increasing long-term maternal morbidity. Studies also show a strong link between marriage before 18 and higher rates of child stunting, miscarriages, and pregnancy complications.

These are not rare exceptions—they are well-documented realities in maternal health.

There is also a psychological dimension. When someone has lived through a difficult system and made peace with it, they may come to normalize it. Questioning that system can feel like questioning their own life choices, their sacrifices, or even their identity.

Yet, a common argument persists: “Didn’t our grandmothers give birth at 14 or 15? They survived.” This is a classic case of survival bias. We hear the stories of those who lived. But we simply turn a blind eye to the countless girls who died in childbirth, from haemorrhage, untreated infections, or seizures. Their stories were buried with them.

Another argument that often surfaces, sometimes more powerfully, is from women themselves. Many say, “I was married at 15 or 16, and my life turned out fine.” On the surface, this sounds convincing. But it hides a deeper problem. Individual stories, however genuine, do not represent the full reality.

What we are seeing here is a classic case of survival bias. The women who speak up are those who managed to navigate the system and build a stable life despite early marriage.

But for every such story, there are countless others that remain unheard—girls who dropped out of school, lost their independence, endured abuse, or suffered serious health complications. Their experiences rarely make it into public conversations.

Beyond physical harm, there is the question of consent and autonomy. A 15-year-old cannot open a bank account independently, cannot vote, and in many cases cannot make legally binding decisions. Yet we expect her to consent to a lifelong marriage, to sexual relations, and often to motherhood.

There is also a psychological dimension. When someone has lived through a difficult system and made peace with it, they may come to normalize it. Questioning that system can feel like questioning their own life choices, their sacrifices, or even their identity.

So defending early marriage sometimes becomes a way of defending their own past. This does not mean their experiences are invalid. But it does mean their experiences cannot be used to justify a practice that systematically puts young girls at risk.

A society cannot build its norms on exceptions. It must look at patterns, outcomes, and consequences. Even in cases where early marriages appear “successful,” there are often invisible ceilings, interrupted education, limited career options, financial dependency, and restricted personal freedom. These are losses that are so normalised that they are no longer even recognised as losses. The question, then, is not whether some early marriages “worked.” The question is: at what cost, and for how many others did it fail?

Beyond physical harm, there is the question of consent and autonomy. A 15-year-old cannot open a bank account independently, cannot vote, and in many cases cannot make legally binding decisions. Yet we expect her to consent to a lifelong marriage, to sexual relations, and often to motherhood.

In reality, many of these marriages are shaped by pressure—family decisions, financial hardship, or fear of social stigma. Choice, in its true sense, is often absent.

There is also a deeply uncomfortable truth that society avoids confronting. When people argue that “teenagers are already engaging in relationships,” they ignore who the other party often is.

These situations frequently involve older, more powerful individuals who manipulate, pressure, or exploit younger girls. Turning that exploitation into marriage does not solve the problem—it legitimises it.

The consequences extend far beyond the individual. Early marriage cuts off education, limits earning potential, and traps families in cycles of poverty. A girl who is denied education is more likely to remain financially dependent, and her children are more likely to face the same disadvantages. This is not just a personal issue, it is a structural one that affects national development.

There is also a psychological cost that is often ignored. The human brain, especially the part responsible for decision-making and emotional regulation, continues to develop well into the early twenties.

Forcing a teenager into marriage, pregnancy, and adult responsibilities creates immense mental pressure. Many young brides experience isolation, depression, and long-term emotional trauma.

Supporters of early marriage often frame it as protection—protection from social judgment, from relationships, from “wrong choices.” But protection that removes a person’s agency is not protection. It is control.

A girl should never have to grow up on someone else’s timetable. Marriage at 15 or 16 does not build families, it breaks them. It is not tradition. It is a theft of curiosity, health, and choice. Childhood is not a liability, it is the only chance she gets.

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