By Laiba Zafar
In South Asia’s richly woven yet deeply conflicted societies, women continue to struggle between tradition and autonomy. While countries like Pakistan, India, Bangladesh, and Afghanistan celebrate cultural vibrancy and rising female icons, they also remain deeply hostile environments for women who dare to choose for themselves. One of the most brutal forms of this hostility is honor killing—a gender-based crime in which women are murdered by family members for allegedly bringing shame upon the household. These “crimes of honor” are often triggered by actions such as marrying someone of choice, refusing arranged marriage, seeking divorce, dressing “inappropriately,” or even being a victim of sexual assault. The control over women’s bodies and choices lies at the root of these murders, rather than morality or family integrity.
In Pakistan, the Human Rights Commission reports approximately 1,000 honor killing cases annually. One of the most shocking cases in 2025 was that of Bano Bibi from Baluchistan, who was murdered for marrying on her own choice—her death was brushed aside by many as a “family issue” (Dawn News, May 2025). In India, especially in rural areas like Haryana, Uttar Pradesh, and Rajasthan, traditional village councils known as Khap Panchayats still influence decisions that sanction violence against couples who defy caste or community norms (Human Rights Watch, 2024). Meanwhile, in Afghanistan, particularly in areas controlled by the Taliban, honor killings are sometimes socially or even state-sanctioned, where women may face stoning, flogging, or execution for as little as refusing a forced marriage or stepping out without a male guardian. In Bangladesh, while the number of reported honor killings is relatively low, other forms of gender-based violence—such as acid attacks, forced marriages, and dowry-related deaths—continue to threaten women’s rights and autonomy in everyday life.
Although most South Asian countries have laws on the books that criminalize honor killings, justice is rarely served. In Pakistan, the 2016 Anti-Honor Killing Bill aimed to prevent family pardons that often allowed murderers to walk free. Yet, according to the Aurat Foundation’s 2024 Gender Data report, over 70% of perpetrators still go unpunished, either due to lack of witnesses or family-forced settlements. In India, honor killings fall under the general murder clause (IPC Section 302), but there is no specific legislation to address such crimes, and trials often stretch for years with minimal convictions. Afghanistan’s legal system under Taliban rule barely acknowledges women’s basic human rights, and honor-based violence is rarely reported, let alone punished. The core issue lies in the mindset: where sons’ romantic choices are accepted—or even joked about—daughters’ agency is demonized. Often, it’s not strangers but fathers, mothers, or brothers who act as executioners. As a social worker in Lahore put it: “When a girl chooses love, she’s impure. When a boy does it, it’s called passion. What kind of honor is that?” Despite this darkness, rays of resistance remain. Organizations like Aurat March in Pakistan, Breakthrough India, and South Asian Women in Media (SAWM) are raising awareness, training journalists, and supporting legal reforms. Social media campaigns such as StopHonourKillings, and JusticeForWomen have amplified survivor voices and mobilized youth across the globe.
However, mainstream media still fails to humanize victims. Headlines like “Girl elopes, killed by family” reduce a gender-based murder to a sensationalist story. Films and documentaries, such as “A Girl in the River” by Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy, have played a vital role in awakening public discourse and pushing legislative change. Moving forward, it is imperative that honor killings be recognized not as cultural exceptions but as hate crimes, and that swift justice, public education, and protection for survivors become central to dismantling this tradition of violence masquerading as virtue.
There are some serious questions; that are yet to be addressed and are of immense importance.
If honor and dignity are the issue, then why is it always the woman?
The same woman who is a mother, a sister, a wife, a daughter — isn’t respect the same for all?
When your son brings home someone’s daughter, do you not remember then that it’s also someone’s honor?
Why doesn’t your sense of honor awaken at that moment?
If your son can marry by his choice, why can’t your daughter?
If a son has this right, why not a daughter?
Is a daughter only meant to be sacrificed in the name of honor?
Doesn’t she have the right to live her life by her own will?
Or is the right to make life decisions reserved only for men?
The writer is the student of Communication and Media Studies department at Fatima Jannah Women university Rawalpindi Pakistan.