ON 5 June 2026, Quetta’s Civil Hospital became the site of yet another act of gendered brutality. Dr. Mahnoor Nasir, a young physician, was attacked with acid by a hospital staff member inside the orthopedic ward. Her assailant fled immediately, leaving her severely injured. This was not merely an assault; it was a grave act of gender-based violence and workplace insecurity, emblematic of the perilous conditions women face in Pakistan. The attack on Dr. Nasir is part of a continuum of violence that stretches across Pakistan’s social fabric. In June 2025, TikTok influencer Sana Yousaf was shot dead in her Islamabad home, hours after celebrating her 17th birthday. In 2021, Noor Mukadam was beheaded by her Pakistani-American boyfriend after rejecting his marriage proposal, a case that sparked nationwide outrage. In 2016, law student Khadija Siddiqui survived being stabbed 23 times by a former boyfriend. Each of these cases underscores the same reality: women who assert autonomy are met with violence, often fatal and almost always shielded by impunity.
The events of January 2026 exposed judicial complicity in perpetuating this crisis. Pakistan’s Supreme Court reduced a rape conviction to fornication, cutting a 20-year sentence to five years and reducing the fine, reinforcing systemic reluctance to confront gender-based violence. Conviction rates for domestic violence, rape and so-called honour killings remain in the low single digits. In abduction cases, the rate is a dismal 0.1 percent. The judiciary’s failure is not incidental; it is structural, reflecting a broader reluctance to challenge patriarchal norms and tribal authority. One of the most harrowing examples of honour-based violence emerged on July 21, 2025, when a gruesome video from Quetta went viral. It captured the execution of a young couple, Ehsan Samalani and Bano Satakzai, for contracting a love marriage without family approval. Local “elders” pronounced a death sentence, luring the couple back under the pretext of a lunch invitation. In the video, Bano’s final words in Brahvi: “You are allowed to shoot me, but nothing more than that” echoed dignity amid terror. Moments later, she was shot three times, apparently by her own brother, followed by her husband’s killing.
This ritualized execution, carried out with calm precision and filmed without shame, underscores the lethal power of honour codes and the impunity shielding perpetrators. Approximately 1,000 women are murdered annually in Pakistan in the name of honour, with 405 cases officially recorded in 2024 alone. Many more go unreported, their deaths erased by tribal allegiance and societal complicity. The abduction of Asma Jattak from Balochistan on February 5, 2025, illustrates another dimension of systemic abuse. Seized by Zahoor Jamalzai, a man with deep tribal and political connections, Asma was targeted after years of harassment. Zahoor had allegedly murdered her fiancé in 2012 and demanded her hand in marriage. Despite public protests that eventually secured her release, Zahoor remains free, shielded by powerful Sardars.
Similarly, Mishal Rasheed, abducted at gunpoint in 2022, was sexually assaulted, forcibly converted to Islam and married to her abductor. These cases reveal how forced conversions and abductions are not isolated crimes but entrenched practices, normalized by tribal councils and tolerated by the state. The scale of Pakistan’s gender-based violence crisis is staggering. In 2025, Sahil reported 7,071 GBV cases nationwide, a 34 percent increase from the previous year. These included 1,546 murders, 1,345 abductions, 1,169 torture cases, 877 rapes, 680 suicides, 449 injuries, 316 harassment cases, 284 honour killings and 41 acid attacks. Acquaintances were responsible for 32 percent of cases, strangers for 18 percent and husbands for 12 percent.
The Pakistan Demographic and Health Survey recorded physical intimate partner violence at 57 percent in Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa the highest of any province, with Balochistan close behind. Punjab and Sindh fared little better. In rural areas, the numbers are worse, reflecting the deep entrenchment of patriarchal violence in everyday life. Pakistan’s normative legal framework appears robust on paper. Over the past two decades, amendments to the penal code have recognized honour crimes as criminal offences and introduced laws on rape, domestic violence, sexual harassment, forced marriage and deprivation of inheritance. Yet weak implementation and ineffective response mechanisms render these laws hollow.
The Domestic Violence (Prevention and Protection) Act, 2026, passed after fifteen years of political resistance, signals progress. But whether it translates into protection depends less on its passage than on enforcement. Without dismantling discriminatory norms and confronting tribal councils, laws remain symbolic gestures rather than instruments of justice. Pakistan ranks 148th in the Global Gender Gap Report, 2025, underscoring its perilous standing for women. Economic participation has deteriorated, literacy parity remains below 75 percent and structural inequalities persist. Harmful customary practices honour killings, forced marriages, custodial abuse are cloaked in religious or cultural justifications, perpetuating subjugation.
Violence against women is embedded in Pakistan’s formal and informal institutions, upheld by Jirgas, tolerated by the state and reinforced through media narratives. The normalization of abuse reflects hostility toward female autonomy. Punitive measures alone cannot dismantle this system; Pakistan must challenge patriarchal norms and prioritize survivors’ experiences. International obligations lose significance when justice is replaced by silence. Low conviction rates, state reluctance to confront Jirgas and media complicity sustain impunity, leaving women vulnerable and unprotected.
— The writer is an educator, based in Sindh.
