IN 2023, I wrote an article titled ‘Why Must the Aurat March?’ In 2024, I followed up with ‘Why Must the Aurat Still March?’ And now, in 2025, I find myself compelled to write once more, not as a woman experiencing this reality firsthand, but as a man who refuses to look away. The march was never meant to be a tradition; it was never meant to be an annual reminder of the violence and injustices women face. And yet, here we are, forced to raise our voices yet again, forced to demand what should have already been theirs: safety, dignity, and equality.
Another year has passed in the blink of an eye – one moment, it is January 1st and we wake up with new resolutions, promising drastic changes. We commit to healthier habits, crowded gyms, and disciplined water intake, only to realize, before we know it, that two months have passed and we are approaching March.
For some, the new year may have brought change. But for most, life and business continue as usual. We return to our old selves, despite the hopeful affirmations declared at midnight on December 31st, amidst fireworks that light up the skies and momentarily fill us with optimism.
March is here again, bringing with it World Wildlife Day, Ramadan and Pakistan Day on the 23rd. And, among these significant dates, March 8th marks International Women’s Day. In Pakistan, this day has, over the past few years, become synonymous with the Aurat March—a gathering of women from all walks of life, marching together in solidarity, in protest and in hope for change. And, as expected, this same collective action once again compels the likes of Khalil-ur-Rehman Qamar and various Muftis to emerge on television screens, questioning its purpose, branding it as ‘inappropriate,’ and relentlessly asking: ‘Why must the Aurat March?’
Pakistan has long treated its women and the white on its flag, with callous disregard. The nation has witnessed the horror of Zainab’s case, the trauma of Kasur’s child abuse scandal, the brutality of the motorway incident and the chilling murder of Noor Mukadam. Yet, the same question persists: Why must the Aurat March?
To those who still ask, perhaps 2023’s rape case in the heart of Islamabad serves as a reminder. Or perhaps, if that is not enough, then a look at the incident in Lahore’s Ichhra Bazaar, where a woman was violently attacked by a mob for wearing a dress with Arabic scripture mistaken for Quranic verses serves as another testament. If neither of these incidents provides an answer, then consider this year’s reports: the murder of a 13-year-old domestic worker in Rawalpindi, or the horrific cases of honor killings that persist without pause – a list way too long to mention here.
The F-9 Park in Islamabad, named after Fatima Jinnah, serves as a cruel irony. It is one of the city’s most recognizable public spaces, a place of leisure, of art and of community gatherings. For years, it has hosted study circles, poetry readings, and even the Aurat Azadi Jalsa, a protest against misogyny and patriarchy. And yet, in 2023, a woman was brutally raped in this very park, reinforcing the unrelenting message to women: they are not safe. What followed was not outrage against the crime but the same old victim-blaming rhetoric, reminiscent of the motorway incident, where a woman was raped in front of her children, and instead of demanding justice, society debated why she was travelling at night.
This is not just about one park or one case. This is about a nation where men can travel freely at any hour, but women are told to stay indoors after dark. It is about a society where the rich can celebrate poetry within the barbed wire of their private spaces, while the poor have no safe public spaces. It is about a culture where a young girl in Lahore can be mobbed for merely existing in a way that some find objectionable. And most importantly, it is about a system that teaches men entitlement, so much so that after committing rape, the perpetrators of the F-9 Park assault had the audacity to give their victim Rs. 1,000 and a lecture on morality.
Women in this country struggle to find safe accommodation, secure transportation and fundamental dignity in public spaces. The Aurat March is not just an event; it is a movement demanding accountability from a society that enables and perpetuates violence. It is a day—one day in 365—when women reclaim public space, but it is also a day for men to stand beside them, not in sympathy, but in solidarity. And yet, every year, as the banners are raised and the slogans are chanted, a counter-narrative emerges, claiming that it is the women who are responsible for the destruction of the ‘socio-cultural fabric’ of the Islamic Republic.
In 2022, religious fanatics attacked the Aurat Azadi March, proving that women claiming public space—even on a day meant to celebrate them—is intolerable. In 2023, the rape in F-9 Park reinforced that message. In 2024, the mob attack in Ichhra Bazaar, the continued honour killings, the abuse of domestic workers and the ever-rising cases of sexual violence proved that nothing had changed. And now, in 2025, we continue to see women silenced, abused and denied their most basic rights.
So why must the Aurat March yet again? You may ask. The answer is written in the lives lost, in the injustices suffered, in the violence endured and in the voices that refuse to be silenced.
Until the struggle continues, the march must continue. Happy Women’s Day!
—The writer is associate editor and digital team lead at Pakistan Observer
