HOW many more Noors, Zainabs, Qandeels and Sanas have to lose their lives to the entitled will of men before the issue is addressed? Are we not sick of these women turning into hashtags that are momentary social media outcries in an amnesiac nation?

What are we protesting anymore? Today, Noor should have been a force in her office, driving home safely to her family later in the day. Little Zainab, who should have been enjoying her summer vacation, would be starting secondary school, where she would be knee-deep in social studies and algebra books. Qandeel would have made a podcast, taking us through her adventurous life, and walking red carpets. Sana should be here, uploading another TikTok video — young, funny, and free.

In the broader context of life, we often forget that these women and girls had lives, souls, and futures. They had stories they were meant to live out but could not — because the men around them, rabid and foaming at the mouth, decided they would not.

The act: Sana Yousaf’s life was allegedly taken by the 22-year-old suspect Umar Hayat, who watched her videos celebrating Chitrali traditions, female autonomy and community upliftment. He could not comprehend how this 17-year-old could refuse his advances. Umar Hayat, although now in custody, is just one of the millions who did not consider his act a crime — he saw it as inevitable if his demands were not met.

Why do the Umar Hayats and Zahir Jaffers of this world not see the enormity of their actions? There is no point in including statistics or blaming an institution. What good will come of quoting a statistic? For how much longer will we have to cite a UN survey before our courts, governments, and civilians acknowledge that femicide is taking place in Pakistan?

Women have minds, courage and dreams, and they are meant to live out their aspirations. They have much to give and be valued for; instead, so many lose their worth simply by existing. Femicide does not have to be inevitable.

Women are meant to live out their dreams.

The reaction: Unfortunately, peopleare often quick to overlook these facts. ‘This happens all over the world, not just in Pakistan!’ they say. They brush aside discussion, saying that putting out the facts would ‘ruin Pakistan’s image’. These facts are not ruining Pakistan’s image; people who can’t overcome their murderous instincts are the problem.

Along with the general public’s complacency, misinformation, underrepresentation and underreporting as well as social ostracisation have added to the growing instances of femicide in the country. Besides, victim-blaming, an age-old practice in this country, can be witnessed not only in society but in legal proceedings and journalistic coverage as well: ‘What was she doing?’, ‘Where was she going?’, ‘Why was she there?’, ‘What was she wearing?’, ‘What time was she out?’

Famously, in Zahir Jaffer’s trial, Noor’s father was questioned whether his daughter’s actions aligned with ‘our moral values’. Though convicted, Zahir Jaffer and his family did not appear to be subjected to the same line of inquiry.

Is anything changing? Is death not enough of a price? What do women have to do before someone takes another life? We are often not finished protesting one case before another appears. The scourge is systemic and encouraged by institutional approaches. Over the last 10 years, domestic violence cases have been publicised thanks to social media and organisations such as Aurat March that fight for justice as women plead not to be killed. How­ever, these cases are only a fraction of a much larger number that will remain unreported. The issue is much larger than calling for an end to femicide, holding courts accountable for delays in (questionable) justice, and marching for the victims on a list that continues to grow longer.

The plea now is to look beyond gender and view women as people — to talk of killing people as a bad thing.

According to architect and activist Arif Hasan, “The moment you see women as human beings, the killing becomes real and one realises the damage inflicted by the misogynist values that Pakistani society is unwilling to change — obstructing the evolution of a more equitable and just future.

Not only for women but also for men. To tackle it, one needs to first understand and accept that it exists, in spite of oft-quoted references regarding the progress women have made.”

Women do not want to be hashtags anymore. They don’t want vigils or social media eulogies. Women want to live, to walk outside, to go to work. They don’t want to be owned, pursued or murdered. They don’t want to be statistics. Why is it so easy to take a life then?

The writer is an architect and social activist.

Published in Dawn, June 21st, 2025