From Kolkata's Galleries to Cox's Bazar's Ground: Women's Cricket's Real Independence Begins Inside the Boardroom

October 2026. Salt Lake Stadium, Kolkata. The FIFA U-17 World Cup final. England were beating Spain 5-2, and I stood with my hand on the press-box glass thinking — this city did not just host a tournament, it hosted a second independence. Outside the pitch, nobody was saying the one thing that circles my mind today: a country that can build stadiums and fill galleries, if it cannot remove fear inside the dressing room, that hosting remains incomplete.

Eight years later, last week in Cox's Bazar, a Bangladesh Cricket Board meeting moved that old thought to a different place. The BCB announced that an independent committee has been formed to address sexual harassment and abuse complaints from women cricketers — four members are now operational, the fifth seat reserved for a former cricketer remains unfilled. One hundred women cricketers are assembled in Cox's Bazar for domestic tournaments, and the committee launched at exactly that moment.

I do not read that as lucky coincidence. I read it as a stress test — the women's game's safeguarding architecture stood before real people for the first time, exactly when it was needed most.

Let me be clear at the outset: there is no score in this story, no innings, no bowling chart. This is an administrative item. But the reality of Bangladesh women's cricket is that administrative stories are the biggest cricket stories of this moment. Because the structure standing behind what we see on the field determines how many girls enter the game in the next ten years, and how many walk away midway.

Read the committee's composition, not just the announcement

The committee is chaired by Barrister Rashna Imam. With her are Barrister Nazia Kabir, Barrister Anita Gazi Rahman and Zarin Mahmud Hossain. The fifth seat is reserved for a former cricketer, not yet appointed.

I read that list twice. The first time, I thought — this is a legal committee. The second time, I thought — this is deliberately a legal committee. Three barristers, one named member, one former player. The board has decided that procedural defensibility and confidentiality matter more than cricketing familiarity.

I agree with that choice. Because I have watched for years that the biggest failure of board-run complaint mechanisms is conflict of interest. When the committee is staffed by the board's own people, a player never feels safe about her complaint. The BCB has done one big thing here — no BCB official sits on the committee. This is not just isolation, it is a message: even if the complaint is against the board, the process remains outside the board.

But here is my first doubt. Reports say the exclusion of BCB personnel is 'understood to be deliberate'. That is, the board has not put this on record. That ambiguity is not small. If the foundation of a safeguarding structure that must survive years rests on an understanding, then whether it survives the next board election is an open question.

A 2026 directive, a 2026 committee — the lag is the real story

While reading, one date stopped me. In 2026, the Bangladesh High Court directed that this committee be formed. That is, it took roughly sixteen years for a court order to become operational.

Sixteen years. A girl who was in school when that directive came down is today playing for the national team. In those sixteen years, how many women cricketers entered dressing rooms with fear, how many found no place to complain, how many left the game altogether — nobody has that count. What we have is a question: is the board building this structure on its own, or under judicial pressure?

I think the second. And that is not bad news, it is reality. South Asian cricket boards routinely lag on institutional reform, and courts, media or ICC pressure become the main engines of change. But reform done under pressure has a problem: when the pressure eases, the reform eases too.

That is the BCB's biggest test. Keeping the committee alive is not hard. Keeping it outside the board's electoral politics — that is the real challenge. Dig into the BCB's history and you will see administrative structures shift after every election. Whether a court-directed committee survives those shifts depends on board culture, not just policy.

One hundred players in Cox's Bazar, four members on the committee

Now my second doubt, which is a numbers question.

One hundred women cricketers gathered in Cox's Bazar for domestic tournaments. All hundred are potential complainants, witnesses or participants in the process. On the other hand, the committee has four members, with the fifth seat vacant.

I am not trying to point fingers at the member count. I am saying — understand the ratio. If a committee is procedurally strong but operationally thin, a player complains once, gets no response, and never complains again. And the most dangerous thing in a safeguarding system is player silence.

I have watched sports administration for years and seen one pattern repeat: the announcement of a committee, the photo, the press release — and then nobody tracks whether the committee actually works. The BCB has done some things right. The policy states confidentiality and fair process will be ensured. A website pop-up banner allows complaints to be filed. An education class has been held in Cox's Bazar and a workshop is planned.

That workshop and education class are the most concrete evidence in this story. Because announcing is easy, but bringing one hundred players together for awareness — that is work. The question is whether the class stops when the Cox's Bazar tournament ends, or continues year-round. If it stops, it is an event. If it continues, it is a culture.

Where I could be wrong

Everything I have said so far rests on one assumption: that good committee design produces good outcomes. In reality, that assumption does not always hold.

One big error of mine could be thinking legal composition is enough. The truth is, legal composition is only the first step. I have read safeguarding frameworks in the UK, Australia and New Zealand — the processes there are also legal, but the real difference is player trust. If players do not know where to complain, if there is fear that complaining will cost them their place in the squad, then three barristers change nothing.

Second, I could be wrong in treating the fifth member as a formality. I think it is not. A former women's cricketer on the committee is a bridge to players — someone who has played knows what happens in a dressing room. A lawyer understands process, but a cricketer understands experience. The combination is what makes the committee credible. As long as the fifth seat stays empty, the committee stands on one leg.

My third doubt is deeper. The measure of a safeguarding system's success is a rise in complaints. That sounds upside down, but it is true. A system with zero complaints either has no problem — or has problems nobody has the courage to report. In Bangladesh's context I think the second is more likely. So if complaint numbers rise over the next year, media should not frame it as 'the problem is growing' — it needs to be understood as the system working.

My closing word

In 2026 a court said this mechanism must be built. In 2026 it was built. That sixteen-year delay teaches us that change in sports administration never arrives quickly, and arrives mainly when pressure is applied from outside.

But this time pressure is also coming from within. One hundred women cricketers gathered in Cox's Bazar, and a door has opened before them. Whether they walk through it is the real question. Because wherever I stand — in Kolkata's galleries, in Moscow's fan zones, at the nets in Cox's Bazar — I believe one thing: the player who can play without fear is the one who is truly free. The rest we write on paper.

One more thing to keep in mind. As an ICC full member, Bangladesh's safeguarding policy is not only a moral duty but part of binding international obligation. A board that lags on this obligation may face pressure on hosting rights or development funding in future. That is not my personal opinion, it is institutional reality.

So when someone asks — what is the biggest achievement of Bangladesh women's cricket? I do not look at the scorecard. I look at the crowd of one hundred girls in Cox's Bazar, and beside it a four-member committee whose fifth seat is still empty. That picture says independence never comes in a day — it comes step by step, door by door. The only question now is — who opens the fifth door, and how soon.