Beyond the scars: From fighting acid to healing minds

There was a time in Bangladesh when the word "acid" didn't just describe a chemical, it described a nightmare. For years, acid violence was a terrifying tool of patriarchy used to silence women and destroy their lives. Today, those numbers have decreased from hundreds of cases a year to nearly zero. Monira Rahman made this revolution possible through her work.

A face without a name

Monira’s journey began in 1997 when she met Bina Akter. Bina had been a victim of an acid attack. "Her eyes were not in place, her nose was not in place," Monira recalls. "I was deeply shocked and terribly frightened. But I also saw an incredible spirit in her. She wanted to turn her life around." That encounter changed everything for Monira. She realised that acid violence wasn't just about land disputes or rejected proposals; it was a display of power. It was the "if I can’t have her, no one can" mindset.

The impossible goal

In 1999, Monira helped establish the Acid Survivors Foundation (ASF). At the time, the situation was grim. By 2002, attacks were rising by 40 percent annually, with nearly 500 people victimised in a single year.

Monira and her team set a goal: reduce that number from 500 to 50. They wanted to make the country so safe that the foundation wouldn't be needed anymore. They were not after the growth of the foundation.

Gradually, through the emergence of new laws, medical support, and turning survivors into activists, they succeeded. In 2023, only eight incidents were reported. It is a success story that has inspired the entire world. Among many of the recognitions they got are: an Amnesty International Award, a Human Rights Defender Award, a UNFPA Award, and the World's Children's Prize.

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Invisible scars of mental health

While the physical wounds of acid attacks were being treated, Monira noticed a deeper problem. Survivors were struggling with trauma, depression, and thoughts of suicide. "The mind also gets burned," Monira explains. "The mind also gets wounded. What is the bandage for that?" This realisation led her to her next big chapter. In 2015, she founded the Innovation for Wellbeing Foundation. Her focus shifted from physical reconstructive surgery to "mental first aid."

Breaking the stigma

In Bangladesh, mental health is often a "taboo" topic. Monira points out that for a long time, the country operated under the "Lunacy Act of 1912", a law that treated mental illness as "madness" rather than a health condition.

Monira is working to change the language we use. Through initiatives like 'Mon Janala' and Mental Health First Aid, she is working to make people aware of how to identify signs of distress and provide support, just as they would for a physical injury.

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A life of meaning

When asked which of her many international awards means the most to her, Monira’s answer is humble. "When I see a person standing back up on their feet, that is my reward," she says. She tells the story of a young girl whose father threw acid on her. Today, that same girl is studying biochemical engineering at a top university. "Her body was burned by chemicals, and now she is going to be a biochemical engineer. What more could one ask for in a human life?"

Monira Rahman dreams of a society where mental health is treated with the same urgency as physical health, a society where empathy replaces violence. As she puts it: "Mental health is not just one person’s issue. If everyone is well, we can advance a long way."

Monira Rahman is more than a pioneer; she is a promise that even from the ashes of fire and acid, light and hope can grow.