BY: Syeda Amnah Batool
Member, National Assembly of Pakistan
(Published by ANI )
There are tragedies that shock us for a day, and there are tragedies that force us to stop and examine the society we have created. The death of Hina Javed is one such tragedy.
According to the First Information Report and initial police findings reported in the press, Hina Javed was found dead in the bathroom of her Rawalpindi apartment. Her hands were reportedly tied, her mouth gagged, and a wire fastened around her neck. The preliminary postmortem examination found a strangulation mark and severe injuries. Her husband and a domestic worker were taken into custody, while the role of another family member remains under investigation. A seven-member police team has been constituted, and the final cause of death will be determined once the complete forensic report is received.
These allegations are deeply disturbing. At the same time, because the matter is under investigation, the accused are entitled to due process, and the courts must determine criminal responsibility. Justice for Hina will not be served through rumors, sensational claims, or social media trials. It requires a professional investigation, reliable forensic evidence, an independent prosecution, and a fair, timely judicial process.
Yet while respecting the legal process, we must confront the larger reality. Hina’s death is not only the story of one household; it raises a profound question: why does violence continue to enter our homes, leaving women unsafe among those supposed to protect them?
The identity, education, or professional position of an accused person must never diminish the seriousness of an allegation. Domestic violence is not confined to uneducated or economically deprived households. An academic title, respectable profession, comfortable residence, and polished public image do not guarantee respect or safety within the home. Education imparts knowledge, but it does not automatically produce empathy, self-control, or moral responsibility.
Such cases are frequently misunderstood because society tends to search for visible explanations. People ask why the woman remained, why she did not complain louder, or why her family failed to intervene earlier. These questions unfairly place the burden on the victim rather than the perpetrator. The honest questions are different: Did she have a safe place to go? Did she believe she would be taken seriously? Was she financially or emotionally dependent? Was she afraid that reporting abuse would escalate the danger? Did those around her treat repeated threats or physical assault as an ordinary domestic matter?
Available data illustrates the silence surrounding domestic abuse. According to UNFPA Pakistan, 34 percent of ever-married women have experienced physical, sexual, or emotional violence by a spouse. Crucially, 56 percent of women who faced physical or sexual violence neither sought help nor spoke to anyone about it. This silence is not consent; it is produced by fear, financial vulnerability, social pressure, concern for children, and lack of faith in the legal response. What begins as controlling behavior or humiliation often escalates into threats, isolation, physical assault, and, ultimately, death.
The national scale of the crisis is alarming. The Sustainable Social Development Organization’s 2024 report, based on official police and prosecution data, recorded 32,617 reported cases of gender-based violence, including 5,339 rapes, 24,439 abductions, 2,238 domestic violence cases, and 547 honor killings.
Conviction rates expose the greatest weakness in the justice system: just 0.5 percent for rape, 0.5 percent for honor killings, and 1.3 percent for domestic violence. These figures point to a system where cases collapse due to weak investigations, flawed evidence collection, complainant intimidation, delayed trials, and poor coordination among police, prosecutors, and medical examiners.
Passing laws is essential, but never enough on its own. Parliament took an important step through the Domestic Violence (Prevention and Protection) Act, 2026, affirming that domestic abuse is a public violation requiring legal protection, rehabilitation, and accountability. The real test is implementation.
Federal and provincial governments must establish an integrated emergency response system. Every police station requires trained personnel capable of conducting domestic homicide risk assessments. When a woman reports strangulation, death threats, confinement, weapons access, or escalating physical abuse, her complaint must never be treated as a routine marital dispute.
Protection orders must be prompt and accessible. Police, hospitals, prosecutors, shelter homes, and legal aid providers must operate through a unified referral system so survivors do not have to recount their trauma at multiple offices to receive assistance.
The Ministry of Human Rights operates Helpline 1099, which provides vital legal advice, counseling, and referrals. However, many citizens remain unaware of it. Information regarding Helpline 1099 and local protection services should be widely displayed in hospitals, universities, police stations, courts, workplaces, and transit hubs. Furthermore, state-funded shelters must offer comprehensive support—including trauma counseling, medical treatment, legal aid, child protection, and pathways to financial independence—so leaving abuse does not mean choosing destitution.
The justice system must modernize its evidentiary procedures. Police need specialized training in coercive control and domestic homicide, while digital communications and witness statements must be preserved immediately. Transparent public reporting—publishing annual data on complaints, protection orders, prosecutions, and convictions—is vital to ensure institutional accountability.
Universities, workplaces, and community leaders also have a duty. Academic institutions must teach ethics and nonviolent conflict resolution while providing confidential reporting channels. Prevention efforts must actively engage men and boys, challenging the belief that marriage grants ownership or control over another human being. Possessiveness is not love, and humiliation is not discipline. Religious scholars, educators, and families must stop advising women to endure abuse for the sake of appearances.
The media must report on cases like Hina Javed’s with dignity, avoiding sensationalism and tracking proceedings until their conclusion. As parliamentarians, our responsibility goes beyond issuing condemnation; we must ensure laws are enforced and protection mechanisms function effectively.
Hina Javed’s death must not disappear into bureaucratic files and statistics. Every woman deserves the certainty that if she is in danger, someone will intervene before it is too late. The true measure of our society is the safety guaranteed to a woman when she closes her front door. Justice for Hina means building a Pakistan where danger signs are recognized, institutions perform their duties, and no woman is forced to remain silent where she fears for her life.
A dilemma of our society