Secured, not safe

 

Strap: The sexual assault of a Korean woman at Bangalore airport exposes how authority can override women’s safety

Blurb:

The woman immediately alerted airport security. CCTV footage corroborated her account. The staffer was detained and later arrested. Air India SATS terminated his services, calling the incident ‘unpardonable’

Byline: Ravi Kiran

 

Kempegowda International Airport, often showcased as Bangalore’s global calling card, became the site of a deeply unsettling reminder this week: women’s safety remains fragile, even in spaces saturated with surveillance and “supposed” safeguards.

On Monday, a South Korean national was allegedly sexually harassed by a ground staff member at Terminal 2 during what she was led to believe was a routine security check. The accused, Mohammed Affan Ahamed (25), a contractual employee engaged with Air India SATS, has since been arrested.

According to police, the woman had completed her immigration formalities and was heading towards her boarding gate when the staffer approached her, claiming her luggage was emitting a “beep” sound. On the pretext of resolving a potential security issue, he persuaded her to move to a secluded spot near the men’s washroom. There, under the guise of a manual frisk, he allegedly touched her inappropriately multiple times and hugged her. The moment she resisted, he fled.

What followed was swift and revealing. The woman immediately alerted airport security. CCTV footage corroborated her account. The staffer was detained and later arrested. Air India SATS terminated his services, calling the incident “unpardonable” and announcing an internal inquiry to strengthen safeguards.

The woman, Kim Sung Kyung, who consented to reveal her identity, later explained why she complied. It was her first visit to India. The staffer wore an airline tag, spoke authoritatively about protocol and carried himself with confidence. Having already cleared immigration, she believed the checks were legitimate and linked to national security. “He explained everything very professionally and very seriously. I trusted him,” she said. That trust was violated; not in a deserted alley or an unlit street, but inside one of India’s busiest international airports.

Crucially, Kyung has said her experience should not be seen as a sweeping accusation of safety in India. What troubled her most, she told a news channel, was the power imbalance that exists in transit spaces like airports. Faced with someone who appeared to hold authority, she feared she might unknowingly be causing a serious security issue. Compliance, in that moment, felt safer than resistance.

The incident also revives uncomfortable memories. About 12 years ago, another South Korean woman was targeted while travelling; this time on a train. In that case, a 25-year-old man from Karnataka was arrested for alleged indecent exposure and an attempt to molest a South Korean tourist onboard the Puducherry–Mumbai Dadar Chalukya Express. The victim, Youngmi Kwon (38) from Incheon, was travelling to Yeswanthpur as part of a month-long research project on Indian culture.

Police said the accused, R. Thippeshi from Bhavanagori taluk, boarded the same coach. Late at night, in a nearly empty compartment, he allegedly approached her in an inebriated state, made obscene gestures, exposed himself and attempted to molest her, according to the complainant’s statement recorded by the Government Railway Police.

 

Surveillance without security

Two incidents. Two foreign women. Two controlled environments, an airport and a train, both meant to be secure. And here’s where the discomfort deepens.

Barely two weeks before the airport incident, a workplace culture consultancy had ranked Bangalore as India’s “top” city for women’s safety. On paper, it sounded reassuring. On the ground, it now reads uncomfortably hollow.

For many women in the city, this dissonance is familiar. Rankings promise comfort; lived experience demands vigilance. The Airport incident has reopened a wider conversation about how safety is actually experienced in a city like Bangalore.

For many women, danger does not always come from deserted streets. It often surfaces in moments where authority, urgency and protocol blur lines. Airports, stations and transit hubs are designed to feel secure, yet they operate on power hierarchies that leave little room for questioning.

“Safety is not just about having systems in place, but about how those systems are exercised. When environments depend heavily on compliance and authority, women are often forced to choose between speaking up and being seen as obstructive,” says entrepreneur Priya Gowda.

When clarity and accountability are missing, she says, women adapt instinctively. They comply, move on and process the discomfort later, because resistance feels riskier in the moment. That tension between visibility and vulnerability defines much of urban life. Women are present in public spaces, but presence alone does not guarantee protection.

PG student Samyukta Shetty believes Bangalore’s strength lies in its willingness to confront these issues openly. “There is a strong culture of debate and awareness around gender here. Women speak up, organise and push for change,” she says.

The gap, she adds, lies in follow-through. “Safety often depends on where you are and who is responsible in that moment. Fragmented systems mean accountability can slip through the cracks, and when it does, the burden falls back on women to protect themselves,” she adds.

The airport episode underlines a sobering truth. Infrastructure and surveillance are only as effective as the people operating them. Protocols can be misused. Authority can be impersonated. Trust, once broken, reshapes how safe a city feels.

Bangalore may pride itself on progress and openness. But leadership on women’s safety demands more than intent. It demands consistency, accountability and systems that protect without asking women to second-guess themselves.