Upholding the life sentence of a man convicted of murdering his wife in Karachi, the Supreme Court described domestic homicide as a “crime of difficult proof.” Such deaths occur in spaces often controlled by the alleged perpetrator, where evidence may disappear, and murder can be presented as suicide, accident or intrusion. Investigators who approach these cases carelessly, the court said, should face consequences.
The judgment reaches far beyond one conviction.
Pakistani society places enormous moral weight on the sanctity of the home. Yet the same idea has often protected violence from scrutiny. Bruises are dismissed as marital disputes. Threats become anger. A daughter who returns home after being beaten is advised to think of her children and save her marriage. Families that would fight for her education can suddenly become champions of endurance when the danger comes from a husband.
Sahil documented 3,172 reported cases of gender-based violence in the first six months of this year, including 644 murders and 514 cases of torture. More than half occurred inside victims’ homes. Earlier national data put the conviction rate in reported domestic-violence cases at only 1.3 per cent.
Recent cases explain the court’s concern. Hina Javaid was found dead in her Rawalpindi home last month with her hands tied and injuries on her body. Police eventually treated the case as murder rather than suicide. In January, the Supreme Court considered the killing of Gulshan Bibi, who had earlier left an abusive marriage but returned after family elders pushed for reconciliation. She was later killed.
These are familiar patterns to anyone who has followed violence against women for years. Murder is often preceded by control over money, movement, phones and friendships; by threats, humiliation and isolation; by repeated attempts to send a frightened woman back into a home she has already said is unsafe.
The court has also rightly warned against character assassination after death. Too often, discussion shifts from what happened to a woman towards what sort of wife she was, why the marriage was troubled or why she wanted to leave. Such prejudice becomes dangerous when it seeps into police work.
Pakistan has laws, commissions, shelters and helplines. The greater weakness lies in what happens when a woman reaches a police station, needs somewhere safe to stay or fears the social cost of pursuing a case. Provincial police forces should now translate this judgment into investigation protocols, training and accountability.
