Honour killing: Why always women?

Mehmoona Batool THE recent murder of Khalida Chandio in Khairpur, sanctioned by a jirga for the “crime” of choosing her life partner, serves as a chilling reminder of the archaic, extra-legal forces that continue to dictate life and death in Pakistan. While the Constitution guarantees the fundamental right to life, dignity and equality, parallel justice systems remain operational, disproportionately targeting women with near-total impunity. “Honour killing” is a dangerous misnomer; it is neither about honour nor cultural heritage. It is a calculated tool of patriarchal control. Whether a woman decides to marry of her own free will, seeks a divorce or even refuses a forced union, her assertion of autonomy is perceived as a threat to the family’s “reputation.” In this twisted worldview, a woman’s identity is reduced to a vessel of communal prestige, making her life disposable the moment that “vessel” is perceived as tainted. The statistical reality is harrowing. While underreporting masks the true scale, data consistently shows that honour-based violence spans the country—from the rural landscapes of Sindh and Punjab to the urban centers of Rawalpindi. From the high-profile murder of Qandeel Baloch in 2016 to the recurring tragedies across Balochistan and the KP in 2026, the pattern is relentless. These are not isolated incidents; they are systemic failures. Legally, Pakistan has made progress, notably through the Criminal Law Amendment Act 2016, which aimed to prevent perpetrators from escaping justice via family “pardons.” However, the gap between legal theory and ground-level enforcement remains cavernous. The influence of local power structures often supersedes state writ, as victims are frequently silenced by threats, economic pressure or the normalization of “private settlements.” Furthermore, this practice finds no shelter in the true spirit of Islam. The Quranic injunction that the killing of one innocent life is equivalent to the destruction of all humanity l