As a life-long fan of comic books and superhero movies, I have always wanted to create a superhero character based in Bangladesh. The kind that fights like Wonder Woman and Captain America, owns a batmobile-like car like Batman, runs too fast to beat the Dhaka traffic like the Flash, invents gadgets like Iron Man, and possesses super durability like Superman.
Unfortunately, the reality is far from this vision. All we got is the “Orna-man,” the exact opposite of superheroes, whose sole responsibility is to terrorize women on the street for not wearing ornas.
A vigilante who wants to enforce their narrow interpretation of modesty on women through intimidation. Orna-man is not just one person. They are everywhere -- on the street, on social media, in our home. They relentlessly patrol public spaces to “fix” the society by terrorizing women and dictating what they should wear. Their battle cry starts with “orna koi.”
Recently, a 25-year-old bookbinder at the DU library was arrested for harassing a female student in public. The incident led to a huge social media fiasco. Later, a group of people identifying themselves as “Tawhidi Janata” besieged the police station for around eight hours demanding his release. The harasser was not only released but also hailed as a hero by the group for showing women their rightful place.
This incident unfolds a troubling reality, that misogyny remains deeply rooted within segments of Bangladeshi society and street harassment is framed as a “duty” of Muslim men as a means of policing women’s bodies.
Not too long ago, a young woman was assaulted by a mob led by another woman at Narsingdi rail station because they disapproved of what she was wearing.
I have lost count of the number of times I have been told to wear an orna by random strangers -- both men and women. The recent political shift has sparked debates about women’s safety on the street, however, can we be honest and acknowledge that Bangladeshi society has been fundamentally misogynistic?
This is particularly true when it comes to women’s bodily autonomy. Sit down with any woman and she will tell you, Bangladesh has been fundamentally hostile towards women on the streets. This section of society will manifest their power in public spaces because they get moral support from the majority.
What gives me hope is that these orna-men are not always getting away unchallenged. Our girls are fighting back -- with a growing sense of solidarity.
What if women refuse to let these orna-men dictate their rights to be in the public place the way they want to be?
Bangladesh is no stranger to mass uprisings when its people were pushed to the edge. What if the women and girls in Bangladesh led a revolution as a rightful citizen of the country-demanding respect, dignity, and a public space free of harassment?
Perhaps then these orna-men will learn their lesson and shut up for good and maybe give me the inspiration to come up with creating a Bangladeshi superhero character.
Kohinur Khyum Tithila is a PhD student at University of Massachusetts,Boston.
