ON MAY 14, Bangladesh was shocked by the tragic and brutal death of seven-year-old Sanim Hossain, a student at Al-Mu’in Islami Academy in Lakshmipur. Reports indicate that his teacher, Mahmudur Rahman, beat him to death. What followed was even more disturbing — the institution attempted to disguise the killing as a suicide. The suggestion that a seven-year-old would take his own life is not only implausible but also a grotesque attempt to cover up the violence that has permeated the educational system.
This case epitomises the moral decay and impunity that has taken root in parts of the country’s religious education sector. Yet, the public response has been remarkably muted. The media, more engrossed in political drama, has scarcely reacted. Is there now a tacit societal consensus that madrasah children — often from marginalised, impoverished backgrounds — are somehow less worthy of concern? This silence, whether passive or complicit, fuels a culture where violence is not only tolerated but normalised.
Corporal punishment in Bangladesh’s madrasahs is a crisis hiding in plain sight. Often justified as a disciplinary tool rooted in religious tradition, its real-world consequences reveal a pattern of unchecked abuse, trauma and even death. There are numerous tragic examples: a 10-year-old named Mohammad Fardin was beaten to death in 2023 for failing to memorise Quranic verses; 14-year-old Rakibul Islam was killed in 2021 for missing prayers; and eight-year-old Jihad was hospitalised in 2019 after suffering severe beatings.
These are not isolated incidents but rather symptoms of a systemic failure. In Bangladesh, corporal punishment remains alarmingly prevalent. A 2011 study by Save the Children found that over 80 per cent of children surveyed reported experiencing physical punishment in schools. A subsequent 2019 report by the Bangladesh Shishu Adhikar Forum documented 1,200 cases of child abuse in religious institutions from 2015 to 2019, including 47 deaths directly linked to physical punishment. Additionally, the Ain o Salish Kendra reported in 2022 that 68 per cent of madrasah students experience some form of physical abuse.
Bangladesh has laws prohibiting corporal punishment. The Children Act of 2013 (Section 70) criminalises physical and mental abuse of children, while the Penal Code (Sections 323, 325, 326) prescribes punishment for assault. The Education Policy of 2010 explicitly bans corporal punishment in all educational institutions. Despite these laws, which explicitly prohibit corporal punishment, enforcement remains alarmingly weak. Legal protections exist on paper but are often disregarded. Furthermore, Bangladesh is a signatory to the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC), which obligates the state to protect children from violence, yet enforcement is shockingly lax.
Internationally, the moral and legal imperatives are clear. The UNCRC explicitly condemns all forms of physical and humiliating punishment (Articles 19 and 37) and urges that school discipline be consistent with the child’s dignity and developmental needs (Article 28). Similarly, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, in Article 5, states: ‘No one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhuman, or degrading treatment or punishment.’
Corporal punishment violates not only national laws but also the very essence of these fundamental human rights frameworks. Bangladesh ratified the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child in 1991, pledging to uphold the inherent dignity, protection, and development of every child. Today, that promise stands in jeopardy.
It is no longer enough to denounce child abuse theoretically while allowing it to persist in practice. An anecdote worth sharing in this context is that the Committee on the Rights of the Child expresses profound concern over the prevalence of corporal punishment in schools because it has yet to be declared a crime (Save the Children UK 2007:3). This lack of legal recognition is a significant reason why corporal punishment remains widely prevalent in educational institutions in Bangladesh.
Johan Galtung’s theory of structural violence provides useful insight here. It refers to forms of harm ingrained in social structures that prevent individuals from achieving their full potential. Corporal punishment in madrasahs, justified by religious sanction, tolerated due to legal inertia, and ignored by media and policymakers, constitutes a form of structural violence against children. It systematically denies them dignity, bodily autonomy, educational opportunities and psychological well-being.
The continued existence of corporal punishment is not due to a lack of legal instruments but rather a lack of political will, institutional accountability and social urgency. To end this abuse, Bangladesh must implement a robust zero-tolerance policy. This should include mandatory CCTV surveillance in madrasahs, regular and surprise inspections by independent bodies and an anonymous hotline for students to report abuse safely.
Although the government periodically issues directives against corporal punishment, these rarely lead to lasting change. There are significant legal gaps, especially in enforcing existing protections. The customary acceptance of corporal punishment in educational settings complicates reform efforts, making social mobilisation essential for dismantling this normalised violence.
Corporal punishment should not be seen as a disciplinary method; it is a form of systemic abuse. The ongoing tolerance of such practices in madrasahs undermines the country’s legal commitments and moral responsibilities. A nation that fails to protect its vulnerable children is complicit in their suffering. We need to move beyond mere rhetorical condemnation and demand legal accountability, policy enforcement and societal courage.
Reform is no longer optional; it is both a moral and developmental imperative. The government, judiciary, civil society and parents must come together to enforce a zero-tolerance policy. No child should endure violence in the name of education. The time for action is now. Schools should adopt a motto of ‘No Excuses for Abuse.’ The moment for indecision has passed. We require national resolve, institutional vigilance, and community courage. Let us ensure that no child suffers violence in the name of education ever again.
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Dr Helal Mohiuddin is a visiting professor, Montclair State University, New Jersey and director of research and communication, Conflict and Resilience Research Institute, Canada (CRRIC).
