Designing safety into the city

Cities reveal themselves through movement.

In the short walk between home and transport.

In the pause at a bus stop.

In the quiet decision to take one street rather than another after dark.

For many women, these small moments shape how the city is experienced. Routes are chosen based on light and activity. Waiting spaces are judged by their visibility. The presence, or absence, of other people becomes a quiet form of reassurance. Yet these decisions are not abstract. According to a 2023 survey by ActionAid Bangladesh, 87% of women have experienced sexual harassment in public spaces, shaping how they navigate streets, transit stops, and public environments.

Safety in cities is therefore not only a question of enforcement. It is also a question of design.

The safest streets are not necessarily the most controlled ones. They are the most inhabited.

The character of public infrastructure, how a street is lit, where a bus stop is positioned, whether a space feels visible or isolated, often determines whether people feel comfortable occupying it or instinctively avoiding it. This matters because women rely heavily on everyday urban infrastructure. World Bank research shows that women depend more on public transport and walking than men, and in countries like India as many as 84% of women’s work trips are made using public transport, intermediate transport, or non-motorised modes. Mobility barriers such as safety and accessibility therefore disproportionately affect women.

Across the world, cities have begun to recognise this relationship between safety and the built environment, introducing design interventions that make everyday urban spaces more visible, active, and inclusive. Barcelona’s reorganisation of neighbourhoods into “superblocks” slowed traffic and returned interior streets to pedestrians. As cars moved outward, people gradually moved back in. Cafés, benches, and trees transformed streets into social spaces rather than transit corridors. With activity returned, visibility increased and the street itself became safer.

Other cities have approached the same challenge at a smaller scale, rethinking the everyday pieces of infrastructure that shape how public space is experienced. In Seoul and Singapore, bus stops have evolved from simple shelters into visible civic elements, designed with strong lighting, transparent structures, and real-time information that reduce the uncertainty of waiting. In Tokyo’s Shibuya district, the redesign of public toilets treated sanitation infrastructure as civic architecture, commissioning architects to create facilities that are visible, dignified, and integrated into the life of the street.

Taken together, these examples suggest a simple idea: safety rarely emerges from a single dramatic measure. More often, it is built gradually through the accumulation of thoughtful design decisions.

Yet importing these models directly would miss something essential. Cities function differently because cultures of public space are different.

Dhaka, for example, is already one of the most socially active urban environments in the world. Tea stalls, roadside vendors, rickshaw stands, and neighbourhood shops create a continuous layer of human presence that extends well beyond formal business hours. These elements are often described as informal. From a design perspective, however, they are also a form of social infrastructure.

A tea stall on a street corner can provide more comfort than a perfectly designed but empty plaza. A rickshaw stand can create visibility where formal transit infrastructure sometimes fails to do so.

Rather than removing these patterns of urban life, the question becomes how design can strengthen them to create safer streets.

One opportunity lies in rethinking the bus stop. In Dhaka, many bus stops are little more than a sign on the roadside. Waiting often happens on narrow sidewalks or directly in the street. A new generation of bus stops could instead function as safety nodes; small public spaces that combine seating, strong lighting, transparent structures, and surrounding activity. Integrating tea stalls or small vendors nearby would ensure that waiting takes place within an active environment rather than in isolation.

Lighting represents another powerful intervention. Much of Dhaka’s street lighting is designed primarily for vehicles rather than for the people who move through the city on foot. A women-centred lighting strategy would prioritise pedestrian paths, crossings, and neighbourhood connectors, the routes people actually walk. Even modest improvements in lighting design can dramatically change how safe a street feels.

Along these corridors, small spatial interventions could further strengthen the environment. In many neighbourhoods, the humble rickshaw stand already functions as an informal meeting point, a place where drivers wait, neighbours pause, and street life quietly gathers. With thoughtful design incorporating lighting, seating, shade, and clear visibility, these stands could evolve into small safety anchors within the urban fabric.

Similarly, small parkettes or pocket parks can introduce visible social spaces along dense urban streets. When combined with good lighting, benches, and everyday activity, these micro-spaces provide places where people can pause, gather, and remain present in the public realm.

Their value is not only ecological or aesthetic. They also help ensure that streets remain active and visible, two of the most important ingredients of urban safety. When positioned along pedestrian routes and near bus stops, these spaces can become part of a larger network of everyday urban infrastructure that supports movement, waiting, and rest across the city.

A third opportunity lies in sanitation infrastructure. The absence of safe public toilets limits how freely women can move through the city, particularly during longer journeys. Well-designed facilities located in visible, active areas, near transport hubs or markets could transform this experience. Tokyo’s Shibuya project demonstrates how sanitation infrastructure can be treated as architecture rather than an afterthought.

None of these ideas are monumental. They are modest interventions: bus stops, lighting systems, public toilets, street corners, and pocket parks. Yet together they can reshape how a city feels after dark.

Cities evolve gradually, through many small decisions that accumulate over time.

Designing safer streets for women is not about imposing control on the city. It is about shaping environments where visibility, activity, and dignity become part of the urban fabric.

A city that women feel comfortable moving through, at any hour, is usually a city that has been designed with care.

Cities that feel safe for women are almost always cities that work better for everyone.

Rayana Hossain is the Founder and Managing Director of ISHO and a Director of Dekko ISHO 
Group. She is an architect by training and holds a master’s degree in Landscape Architecture 
from Harvard University, focusing on smart cities and decentralization.