Two horrific sexual abuse cases separated by geography and scale, but chillingly similar in structure. One involves a powerful political heir from Karnataka, the other – a young man from Goa with similar political connections. Both cases point to a deeply unsettling pattern – the cycle of power, abuse and silence; of sexual abuse sustained over long periods, weaponised through digital means, and exposed only when the system could no longer ignore it.
Soham Sushant Naik: Abuse Of Minor Girls Over 3 Years
At the centre of the latest controversy is Soham Sushant Naik, a 20-year-old from South Goa. Naik is accused of sexually exploiting 25–30 minor girls over a period of three years. Investigators say that the abuse was not just repeated, but recorded.
Videos were made to allegedly blackmail the survivors into silence. The case came to light – not because of action by authorities or through institutional vigilance – but after the accused himself flippantly flaunted the explicit videos to his friends at a get-together, after having a few drinks, triggering protests and demands for action.
The pattern is disturbingly familiar.
The Prajwal Revanna Template
Prajwal Revanna, the grandson of former prime minister HD Deve Gowda, and a former MP from Hassan, Karnataka, was arrested in 2024 after hundreds of explicit videos showing him assaulting and abusing women surfaced. The scale of abuse was staggering. Reports indicated thousands of photos and videos involving multiple women, including his own house help.
Following public outrage, a Special Investigation Team (SIT) was formed, and Revanna – who had fled abroad as the case came to light – was eventually arrested upon returning to India. In 2025, a special court convicted him in one of the cases, sentencing him to life imprisonment for rape and abuse of power.
But beyond the legal outcome, the case exposed something deeper: the systematic use of recording devices to document abuse, and then using that as leverage to buy survivors’ silence.
The allegations against Soham Naik follow a strikingly similar pattern – prolonged abuse, digital recording and coercion through blackmail. The survivors, many of them minors, were trapped in a cycle of abuse, where the very tool that could have been used as proof of abuse became the weapon to perpetuate it.
The timeline also raises troubling questions. Like in the Revanna case, the abuse is alleged to have continued for years before surfacing. The trigger, once again, was accidental exposure, and not vigilance – videos being shared, rumours spreading, and public outrage forcing action.
Power, Access And Impunity
Another common link is the access – whether it is derived from political lineage or social standing or local influence. In both cases, questions are being raised how the perpetrators could operate with impunity for years. In both cases, authorities failed to detect and prevent crime, and the public outrage came after exposure, rather than before.
Perhaps the most unsettling question is this: how do such patterns persist for years? Part of the answer lies in fear. Survivors, especially minors or those in vulnerable socio-economic positions, are often silenced through intimidation, stigma, and the threat of public exposure.
Another factor is institutional lag. Despite existing laws such as the POCSO Act, enforcement remains reactive rather than preventive. Systems respond when cases explode – not when early warning signs emerge.
There is also a societal dimension. In both cases, the accused reportedly appeared “normal” in everyday life – a reminder that predatory behaviour often operates beneath the surface, unnoticed or ignored.
A Pattern That Demands Attention
There are many parallels between the two cases that are difficult to ignore: prolonged abuse, recording the acts, using videos to coerce or blackmail survivors, delayed detection, and public outrage as the trigger for action.
The conviction of Prajwal Revanna marked a significant victory, but it did not end the pattern of such cases of abuse. Soham Naik’s case shows that the underlying conditions that enable such crimes still remain intact.
Stricter laws exist but there are gaps in enforcement. Investigative mechanisms exist, yet there are gaps in detection, surveillance, and digital regulation.
If anything, these cases underline a hard truth: sexual violence in India is evolving, and systems are struggling to keep pace. From Karnataka to Goa, the pattern is clear. And the silence around it, even clearer.
