Zia Ullah Marwat
THE way a nation treats its children—especially those in conflict with the law—reveals its moral compass.
Pakistan likes to claim the moral high ground as a signatory to the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child. On paper, it has the Juvenile Justice System Act (JJSA) of 2018, which promises rehabilitation, legal aid and diversion programs. But in practice, our system still treats children as criminals first and humans later.
Walk into a police station or a prison and the gap between law and reality is glaring. Children accused of petty theft or street fights are often thrown behind bars with hardened adult offenders. Many do not even know why they were arrested or how to defend themselves in court. Instead of being rehabilitated, they are brutalized—emerging from the system more damaged than when they entered.
The JJSA defines juveniles as anyone under 18 and calls for separate courts, observation homes and probation officers. But where are they? Most districts have none. Probation officers, where present, are poorly trained. And the biggest loophole—age determination—remains unresolved. Without proper birth registration or medical verification, police and courts often “guess” a child’s age, leaving many to be tried as adults. For them, bail is denied, punishments are harsher and jail becomes a training ground for crime.
The human cost is devastating. Detention strips children of education, tears them from families and leaves lifelong psychological scars. Communities stigmatize them, while employers shut doors. Instead of second chances, they face permanent exclusion. Unsurprisingly, many end up reoffending—not because they are incorrigible, but because society gave them no alternative.
Other countries show there is a better way. Norway houses young offenders in open rehabilitation centres, prioritizing education and counseling. India’s Juvenile Justice Act established specialized boards and child protection homes. The UK relies on Youth Offending Teams to coordinate social services. Even parts of the United States—despite its reputation for tough justice—have adopted diversion programs and trauma-informed care. The common thread: children are treated not as criminals, but as individuals capable of change.
Pakistan must catch up. First, we need a foolproof, scientific system of age verification. Juvenile courts and rehabilitation facilities must be established in every district. Police, prosecutors and judges must be trained in child rights, not just criminal codes. Legal aid should be available from day one. Diversion programs, restorative justice and community-based rehabilitation should replace jail cells as the default.
Most importantly, post-release support is non-negotiable. Vocational training, education and psychological counseling must be built into reintegration. Civil society and media can help shift public attitudes: a 14-year-old caught stealing bread is not a threat to society, but a child in need of care.
Juvenile justice is not about being “soft” on crime; it is about being smart on rehabilitation. The real test of our justice system is not how harshly it punishes children—but whether it gives them a chance to return as productive citizens. Until Pakistan can answer that with honesty, our prisons will remain factories of broken lives.
—The write is a lawyer based in Islamabad.
