EVERY time another woman is murdered in Pakistan because she chose whom to marry, sought a divorce, rejected unwanted advances, or simply exercised her right to live independently, the nation reacts with outrage—until the next tragedy replaces it. This cycle of violence and collective amnesia has turned femicide into one of Pakistan’s gravest human rights crises.
Femicide—the intentional killing of women and girls because of their gender, is not confined to so-called “honour killings.” It also includes murders arising from domestic violence, intimate partner abuse, forced marriages, and deeply rooted misogyny. These crimes expose the dangerous intersection of patriarchal attitudes, weak law enforcement and a justice system that too often fails to protect women.
The statistics are alarming. According to information presented to Pakistan’s National Assembly, more than 7,500 women were murdered between 2021 and 2024, including 1,553 women killed in the name of “honour.” Independent monitoring also recorded over 2,000 cases of domestic violence, more than 500 honour killings and over 5,000 reported rape cases during 2024, while conviction rates for these crimes remained below two percent. Experts believe the true numbers are significantly higher because many families never report violence against women due to stigma, fear or social pressure.
Recent events demonstrate that the crisis is far from over. The recent horrific acid attack on Dr. Mahnoor Nisar, a young female doctor at Civil Hospital Quetta, is not merely another criminal incident – it is one of the most barbaric manifestations of violence against women in Pakistan. The brutal murder of Noor Mukadam in 2021, the honour killing of Farzana Parveen and Qandeel Baloch and numerous other women who have been killed by relatives, partners or rejected suitors, reflects a deeply disturbing pattern of femicide in the country often after victims seek separation, education, employment or the freedom to make personal choices. In another disturbing reminder of the vulnerability of women, Pakistani police recently rescued a French woman who alleged she had endured more than a decade of domestic abuse at the hands of her husband in KP, highlighting the broader epidemic of violence occurring behind closed doors.
Pakistan has enacted important legislation, including reforms aimed at closing legal loopholes that once allowed perpetrators of honour killings to escape punishment through family pardons. Yet laws alone cannot eradicate a mindset that treats women as property and family honour as more valuable than human life. Weak investigations, delayed trials, poor witness protection and social acceptance of gender-based violence continue to undermine justice.
The consequences extend beyond individual victims. Every woman killed leaves behind devastated children, traumatised families and communities where fear replaces freedom. The economic cost is equally severe, as violence limits women’s participation in education, employment, entrepreneurship and national development. No country can aspire to prosperity while half of its population lives under the constant threat of violence.
Ending femicide requires far more than stronger legislation. It demands swift prosecution of offenders, effective policing, better shelters and legal aid for survivors, gender-sensitive education in schools, responsible media coverage and sustained public awareness campaigns. Religious scholars, educators, civil society and community leaders must unite to challenge cultural norms that excuse violence against women.
A society is judged not by how loudly it condemns a murder after it occurs, but by how effectively it prevents the next one. Pakistan cannot build a just and progressive future while its daughters continue to lose their lives to hatred masquerading as honour. Every woman has an equal right to live safely, freely and with dignity. Protecting that right is not merely a legal obligation—it is a moral imperative for the entire nation.
—The writer is digital media manager, Pakistan Observer.
