The echoes of shrieks for life haunt the alleys of Pakistan. Yet, we look away. The eyes are shut, and hands are tied to misery.
According to Sahil’s Six Months Cruel Numbers Report, a total of 3,172 cases of gender-based violence (GBV) were reported nation-wide during the first half of 2026. These are astounding statistics that place Pakistan to the bottom of the recognised list on gender disparity gap. If your reaction to this was absent-mindedly looking over the data or worse even, it doesn’t bother you that the woman that walks by suffers from systemic violence and hatred- it’s time you reflect on your values. For your fragile ghairat to feast upon innocence by your vulture minded arrogance provokes self-reflection that has evidently become a barrier towards peace. The boasting of principles as a nation has struck its own self. We are nothing but a shallow society.
When you hear a story- ‘a case’, it’s someone’s whole life. She lives the nightmare you scroll away from. And the conscience that looms to a grave is what shatters your humanity. But what can we do? In a country that refuses access rather than fixing the flaws- what can you and I even do? Report your uncle to the police? The loopholes get him away. Post the neighborhood creep online? Two days and people will overlook it. Reject a stalker? You just invited yourself to a death sentence. So what, I ask once more, can we even do?
The framework that pursues lifelessness intersects with deeply entrenched patriarchal structures, flawed institutional mechanisms and the maneuvering of honour- or ghairat. It musters its way up to envelope the entirety of Pakistan in a strengthened haze of zombie-like passion that devours the essence of humanity. Men configure their status that stands upon the souls of their women that are forcefully obliging to the puppeteering. Female autonomy is a threat, and its cost is extreme retaliation. So a controlled life that discovers muffled existence as ‘ghairat’ reflects and makes its way to the entire institutional apparatus. The shaky borders of public and private spheres continue to halt the footprints of women. To face a harrowing horror behind the doors where your raj is unquestioned poses the reciprocal mirroring where your liberty is suffocated. The officer dismissing you based on baseless foundations is the prevalent ghost of systemic failure. It doesn’t end here.
The helplessness stems from the minute expressions to the scales of justice. If you are to report, the system ensures you don’t. Officers may refuse registering complaints on socio-cultural shields, victim-blaming to devalue lived experience and the staggering delays. They don’t care. Then you and I don’t matter. So what is the point anymore? The attack on the victim shatters their choices and it reinforces the exclusion of female presence. You and I are bound for utter disbelief. Why would we go to the platform that disregards despair and balances mere survival as inconvenience?
Ghairat also eclipses the out-of-court settlements. You can never go to court. You can never ask for help. If you do, you will be pressured to betray your stance. The system supports it. The coercive nature by the apparatus to opt for Qisas and Diyat alleges understanding that pardon is the ideal possibility and that other solutions are unavailable. And by evading cohesive responsibility and displacing it from the perpetrators reiterate the sick ideology that our society fanatically preaches, follows and performs. Even the system doesn’t know what to do anymore. Why is it that the woman should veil what she faced? How can the demands be as hypocritical and heart-shattering as what is exhibited in our society? Why do the structured beliefs and integrity standards claw around to oppress? We are dancing upon the foolery that exists. The moral corruption deems and compels us to refer to us as the apathetic society. You would say it’s easier said than done. The element of learned helplessness- or helplessness indeed- is a dilemma that designs reality. Yet, you go ahead to benefit from the systemic failure; it does in fact favour you. The selective morality you base your identity to costs what may be everything to a soul.
We ask again, what can we do? The easy answers we seek are devoid of implementation. The political policies shift to empowerment, though configuring discourse of falsehood. To seek the ‘common’ citizen and comprehend intersectionalities requires active awareness and dialogue. Listen to your women, educate yourselves. Pay heed to the existing suffering, call for accountability. Demand questions, seek procedural reforms. To honestly manage your duty perhaps hollows your success, but the cognizant collective conduct can prove revolutionary.
The ghost of ghairat is ubiquitous that appears for protection but is a concept that aches to strike. Until we call it out as the grotesque illusion, the masquerade of dignity continues to be the executioner’s blade. How can it be that a woman’s breath, her voice and her very personhood is the anxiety that is confessed by the ghastly ghairat’s desire to be bloodthirsty.
Nothing can justify the ghairat that manifests in wretchedness. Nothing. Do not sit idle, or you are the next story.
