The statistic is chilling and universal: a child is abused, often by someone they know, every hour of every day. In Pakistan, Sahil’s reports underscore this crisis with brutal clarity: over 90% of perpetrators are known to the child. This epidemic thrives on silence, stigma, and a systemic failure to prioritise child safety.
But in Punjab, a glimmer of change finally appears.
Under Chief Minister Maryam Nawaz’s “Safe Children, Safe Punjab” initiative, the Home Department has launched a landmark child protection campaign. Uncharacteristically bold for a provincial government program, it sets a precedent other regions would do well to follow. At its heart is an animated series featuring Haya and Bahadur-two child characters teaching children to distinguish “Good Touch” from “Bad Touch.”
Make no mistake, for this is no lightweight cartoon. It marks a seismic shift in how we speak to children about personal safety. The message-“We won’t fear those who attempt a bad touch; we’ll confront them”-is both an act of linguistic defiance and a tool of empowerment. It signals a long-awaited pivot: from victimhood to self-advocacy.
The need could not be more urgent. For decades, Pakistan’s approach to child protection has been reactive, if not outright neglectful. Abuse remains cloaked in cultural taboos, enabling predators to paralyse victims. Against this grim backdrop, Punjab’s initiative breaks new ground by raising awareness and embedding it within a broader policy ecosystem. Home Secretary Noor ul Amin Mengal’s directive to integrate abuse awareness into school curricula is a critical step toward institutionalising prevention.
Yet, legislation and campaigns are only half the battle.
For this initiative to succeed, society would have to respond in kind. While parents shed their discomfort, educators also need to integrate campaign content into classrooms with honesty and empathy. And most importantly, the media must move beyond episodic outrage to become sustained advocates for child safety.
That abuse does not end with the act, and need not be said out loud. We all know how it metastasises across lifetimes, shaping how survivors trust, learn, and live. If we are to shield our children, we must do more than tell them they are safe.
Punjab’s campaign does not claim to end abuse. But it dares to confront it. And in a society where silence has too long been the norm, that may be the loudest hope we’ve had in years.
