BALOCHISTAN bleeds again.
A land long plagued by violence, this time it was not political terror, but terror in the name of “honour.” In June 2025, a young couple who married by choice was hunted down and executed by more than twenty armed men. Taken into the mountains, they were filmed as they were brutally murdered, a grotesque warning to others: love equals death here. This wasn’t a spontaneous crime. It was a premeditated, collective execution sanctioned by a Tribal Council and cloaked in the false garb of “honour.”
What was their crime? That they defied coercion and tradition to choose their own spouse. There was no legal complaint, no religious justification, no societal dispute, only bullets, poisoned customs and a deafening collective silence. The girl held a Qur’an. Her voice didn’t tremble. It held more conviction than fear: “Walk seven steps with me, then shoot me.” These words strike at the heart of a society that warns lovers to stay silent and dignifies killers with the title of “honourable.” This was not just the murder of two people, it was the assassination of love, autonomy, constitutional rights and the true spirit of Islam. Honour, meant to be linked with dignity and humility, has been replaced by brutality.
Islam, often misused to justify such cruelty, utterly rejects it. The Qur’an declares: “Whoever kills an innocent soul, it is as if he has killed all of mankind.” (5:32). The Prophet (PBUH) made a woman’s consent a condition for marriage, condemned tribal honour killings as remnants of ignorance (Jahiliyyah) and gave daughters the right to life. Those who commit murder in the name of religion are neither devout nor honourable, they are defending their own ignorance and fear.
Yes, Pakistan passed a law against honour killings in 2016. But laws without enforcement are just ink on paper. In regions like Balochistan, the State is a shadow. Police are powerless, courts silent and tribal councils glorify lawlessness as tradition. Power, perception and violence reign and a woman’s agency is treated as her greatest crime.
How long will we gasp at viral videos and then return to indifference? How long will we question victims while treating murderers as men of honour? How long will we accept savagery under the guise of faith? How long will those holding the Qur’an be helpless and those holding guns unchallenged? If the State is serious, it must go beyond token arrests. The video is irrefutable evidence. All involved must be tried under anti-terrorism laws in fast-track courts. The punishment must be public, swift and exemplary.
These tribal courts must be outlawed. Empowered, principled officers must be deployed who don’t bend to local strongmen. Religious scholars must go beyond condemnations. They must declare in their pulpits: this is not honour, it is sin. Educational institutions must teach that real honour lies in justice, not murder. Media must do more than report, it must lead national dialogue and awareness. And what about us? When another girl, holding a Qur’an, pleads for her life, will we still scroll past? Will we post hashtags and move on? Or will we finally accept that a woman’s agency is not dishonour, it is part of her honour?
That couple is buried now. But their eyes, their screams, their unanswered questions, they live on. Until we confront them, this crime will repeat. And if we remain silent, we are complicit, even if we never pulled the trigger, our silence will be soaked in blood.
—The writer is Barrister, Solicitor & Notary Public, Usman Law Professional Corporation, based in Canada.
