Who protects the vulnerable? Reframing role of Police in preventing gendered harassment in Sri Lanka

Women, children, and vulnerable families are not statistics waiting for a crisis to unfold

By Vidushi Aloka 

In Sri Lanka, the word protection carries weight. It is a promise embedded in the mandate of State institutions, especially the Police. It is a word that should evoke safety, trust, and accountability. Yet, for many women and children, especially in vulnerable domestic contexts, protection remains an unfulfilled expectation, marked by inaction, bias, and systemic disregard. This raises urgent questions about the role of the Police and women’s units in addressing, preventing, and responding to gendered harassment in its early forms. 

What we are witnessing is not the absence of law, but the selective application of it. Criminological theory teaches us that early intervention is critical. The “Broken Windows Theory” suggests that if minor acts of social disorder are ignored, more serious crimes will follow. But in Sri Lanka, early signs of harassment peeping, intimidation, psychological manipulation are too often dismissed as private matters or trivial nuisances. This culture of non-response fuels escalation. It is in these early stages, where the harm may not yet be physical, that State intervention is most needed. 

Power dynamics at play

Sociologically, we must interrogate the power dynamics at play. The offenders in many of these cases are older men, often embedded within tight-knit communities. Age, gender, and social position grant them unspoken immunity. Victims, often women with children, the elderly, or disabled family members in their care, are isolated and structurally silenced. When a woman approaches a police station to report harassment or intimidation, she is frequently met not with procedural support but with scepticism, discouragement, or outright dismissal. 

Psychologically, the institutional response further retraumatises victims. Police officers especially those stationed in so-called “women-friendly” units are expected to provide empathetic, trauma-informed support. Instead, many victims report being told not to pursue complaints because it may worsen their domestic situation. This is not protection. This is avoidance. It is a passive endorsement of male aggression, cloaked in concern. It sends a dangerous message to both perpetrator and victim that silence is safer than justice. 

This pattern has been observed in numerous incidents where single mothers or women without formal tenancy agreements face aggression from male landlords or neighbours. When they turn to the Police, the absence of paperwork is used to discredit their complaint. But a lack of legal documents does not negate a woman’s right to safety in her own home. In practice, the Police become gatekeepers of justice, deciding who is worthy of protection based on social respectability, marital status, or class. 

Male comfort over female safety

The question must be asked, what is the function of the Sri Lankan Police in these community spaces? What does it mean to serve and protect when women are told not to escalate complaints, when early warnings of harassment are ignored, and when the mere presence of a uniform fails to act as a deterrent? These failures are not merely administrative oversights. They are rooted in deeper cultural norms that prioritise male comfort over female safety. 

It is time to re-evaluate the role of Women and Children’s Desks in police stations. These units must be more than symbolic. They must be empowered, well-trained, and independent from local community politics. Officers should be educated in gender psychology and basic victimology. Protocols must be enforced to ensure that every complaint is recorded, followed up, and taken seriously regardless of how minor it may seem at the outset. 

Additionally, public trust in police institutions depends on visible, impartial action. The perception that certain men are untouchable because of age, reputation, or neighbourhood connections must be actively dismantled. Criminologists point to the deterrent power of consistent policing when even minor offences are addressed promptly, larger crimes become less likely. This principle is especially vital in gender-based issues, where silence in the early stages creates space for violence later. 

Ultimately, protection must not be reactive. It must be preventative. It must mean something tangible to the people who seek it. Women, children, and vulnerable families are not statistics waiting for a crisis to unfold. They are citizens with a right to dignity, security, and a police force that recognises the early signs of danger and responds with resolve. 

Until this becomes the norm, the word protection will remain a promise broken at the doorstep of those who need it most.