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WE OFTEN think that discrimination and patriarchy begin with grand gestures such as denying girls education, restricting women from working, or limiting their presence in public life. But did we really look closely at our homes? Not only with our eyes but also with our hearts. If you did, I bet you would see that it often starts with the tiniest actions: a plate left on the dining table, serving guests without being asked, folding someone else’s clothes before your own, missing or delaying your own career for the sake of your partner’s ego.

Sometimes these acts come from a very soft corner of our hearts, maybe from love or warmth, but when we are in constant fear of the judgement that if I miss a tiny little detail, people will judge me or demean me, or maybe I will not be a ‘good woman’, here comes the patriarchal hierarchy.

Not everyone reading this will relate, but many will. In a family gathering or casual meeting at home, imagine a male guest asks, ‘Can I have some water, please?’ Though he is the guest of the whole house, everyone will look at the woman among all the men there as if it’s natural for her only to fetch it. She doesn’t say no, and perhaps she doesn’t even realise that her silent compliance strengthens the same patriarchal narrative she might otherwise quietly resist. These acts could be shared jobs between husband and wife, brother and sister, or even father and daughter, as in many Western households. This is how patriarchy takes root, not only in laws or policies but in the folds of everyday life.

This aligns with Sylvia Walby’s ‘Theory of Patriarchy’, which is not simply about overt acts of discrimination but about a structural system operating across six domains: paid work, household production, culture, sexuality, violence, and the state. The small, everyday behaviours in the home, such as unpaid labour, exemplify what Walby calls household production, where domestic work becomes normalised and naturalised as women’s work.

When women sacrifice or take a break from their careers for a husband’s ego, this links directly to paid work, where women’s economic opportunities are undermined and dependency reinforced. The irony is that this mindset doesn’t only bind men. Women themselves often become enforcers of these subtle rules. In Bangladeshi society, a woman can sometimes be her own harshest critic and the critic of other women. We shame each other for not being ‘woman enough’, whether that means pursuing education, choosing work over family, or expressing ourselves freely. Walby describes this as cultural patriarchy, where gender norms are reproduced through shame, expectations, and moral policing, often by women themselves. Even now, we see mothers take pride in sacrificing their whole life for a man who never even understood her sacrifices, assuming it was simply her ‘duty’.

Perhaps the most urgent change is the culture among women themselves. Too often, women compete for approval from men, society, and even other women. This culture of judgement must be dismantled. Women should celebrate each other’s choices instead of scrutinising them. If a woman chooses education over early marriage, career over caregiving, or independence over compliance, she should be met with encouragement, not scorn. This, again, is Walby’s cultural patriarchy at play, and women’s solidarity is the quiet but powerful resistance that can dismantle it. Each small act of support, each refusal to shame, chips away at structural inequalities entrenched in society.

Change can begin at home, with a single shift in mindset. A woman must first recognise her own worth, not as a caretaker defined by others’ expectations, but as a human being with agency, dignity, and dreams.

Changing mindsets is not only about resisting patriarchy outwardly; it’s about unlearning internalised norms. From a young age, girls are taught to be polite, quiet, and selfless. They learn that love, respect, and acceptance depend on how well they serve. This is where Walby’s structure of sexuality comes in: women’s reputations, choices, and even movement are policed, creating pressure to comply with gender roles for the sake of being considered ‘virtuous’. To break this cycle, women need spaces, both physical and mental, where they can assert their individuality without fear. Encouraging women to speak, act, and make decisions freely, even in small matters, ripples outward to society at large.

Everyone should understand cooking, cleaning and doing one’s own work are basic life skills. It should not be a woman’s duty to guarantee that her husband or son can find what they need before work each morning. Who asks her if she is feeling okay? Basic life skills must not be linked to any gender role but seen as shared duties.

Education, both formal and social, plays a critical role. Awareness campaigns, workshops, and community programmes must address not only women’s rights but also the subtle, everyday behaviours that reinforce patriarchy. Girls should be taught that asking for help or pursuing ambitions does not make them ‘less of a woman’. At the same time, boys and men must learn that equality is not a threat but a shared human value. Walby’s sixth structure, ‘the state’, becomes important here. The state, through policies and welfare, either reinforces patriarchal systems or challenges them. For example, the state, through laws like the Domestic Violence (Prevention and Protection) Act 2010 and laws on equal pay, maternity leave, and workplace protections for women (e.g., the Bangladesh Labour Act 2006, sections on maternity benefits), could formally challenge these inequalities, showing how legal frameworks interact with everyday life. When both genders embrace equality as a shared principle and the state supports it through policy, the foundation of a less patriarchal society is laid.

The Bangladesh Bureau of Statistics reports that the female labour force participation rate is 42.68 per cent, showing a significant increase in women engaging in the economy, challenging traditional domestic roles. Yet, as Walby argues, unless this progress is paired with dismantling household and cultural barriers, the structures of patriarchy will remain unchanged.

Ultimately, patriarchy is maintained not just by laws but by minds. And changing a mindset is hard, slow work. It requires patience, courage, and self-reflection. Walby emphasises that disrupting patriarchy in one domain, such as the home, can ripple outward, influencing other structures like paid work, culture, and the state. If women begin to see themselves as more than caretakers, more than silent enforcers of outdated norms, then society will inevitably follow.

The UN Women report (2019) shows that 77.4 per cent of women of reproductive age in Bangladesh had their need for family planning satisfied with modern methods, reflecting broader improvements in women’s health autonomy, which empowers them to make life decisions beyond domestic expectations. So, we can see some progress here.

So here for the boys mainly, I really need to mention a book by Admiral William H McRaven where he uses the phrase ‘make your bed’ (also the title of his book) as a metaphor for starting each day with discipline and responsibility. Small actions, he argues, lay the foundation for greater success in life. Inspired by this idea, I suggest we begin with something just as simple: taking our own plate out after eating. From there, another small act can follow, and then another. Step by step, decision by decision, thought by thought, a mindset begins to shift.

If we want systemic equality, we must act on all six fronts. Walby identifies redistributing unpaid household work, removing barriers to paid work, shifting cultural norms, challenging reputational policing of women’s sexuality, preventing and punishing violence, and pushing the state to back these changes with policy and services. Only then will small household acts cease to reproduce structural patriarchy. When we speak of equality, it is not about competing with men but about having agency, enlightenment, and support. Let us take a step toward change; then we will no longer need to ask for our rights. Why should we have to ask for our rights? They should be as normal and natural as men’s. Together, we can make life a better place. Shall we?

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Era Sharmila Khan is an apprentice lawyer at the Dhaka Judge Court.