EACH time I write a column about yet another Pakistani woman killed because she was a woman, I think of the many others I have written eulogising before her. From when I first began to read this newspaper in primary school to when I began to write for it in graduate school and through the decade and a half since, there have likely been thousands killed in the name of honour. To clarify, honour here means specifically that she is killed by those closest to her — fathers, brothers, husbands, neighbours and even sons all get into the act in Pakistan. They offer all sorts of reasons to cover up their dastardly actions, all of which essentially mean the same thing: her refusal to acquiesce to the authority of a man. Fragile as the male ego is, this is by and large considered acceptable.
The story of Gulaan Bharo is a familiar one. Gulaan was a young mother of two who was being beaten and abused by her husband. For at least the past two years, Gulaan had been living at her father’s house. Afraid that she was going to be forced to return to her husband’s house, Gulaan went to a police station near Rohri railway station in Sindh. There she named the people responsible for her abuse and asked to be sent to the Darul Aman shelter. Bharo’s husband had declared her kari — meaning ‘marked’ or ‘stained’. The police began proceedings for a temporary protective order for her.
At a court hearing on her demand to be transferred to the shelter, Gulaan was confronted by her family, including her father. It is said that Gulaan did not at first agree to go home with them and insisted on going to the shelter. While in court, Gulaan met her family and her father allegedly put his turban at her feet and begged her to go home with him, assuring her she would be protected. Gulaan Bharo went back to the judge and said she was agreeing to be released to her family. In a video she says: “I know I will be killed. I am a mother of two children, but for the sake of my father’s dignity I will sacrifice myself and go back to live with him.” The date was April 24, 2026.
‘I know I will be killed,” she said.
That is exactly what happened. On May 2, 2026, her husband Sikki Lagau and his uncle Maula Buksh burst into her father’s house and killed her. So Gulaan’s name entered the list of the thousands of Pakistani women killed by the very men they are supposed to have loved and honoured. Her husband and his uncle have been arrested, but the local landlord allegedly complicit in the murder absconded. The men will likely be held until the news and outcry die down. They may then be granted bail and may even have the charges dropped against them. That is the system of this country where such crimes continue to happen.
Just one week before Gulaan fled and tried to get police assistance against her husband, another Sindhi woman’s body was literally desecrated. Khalida Chandio, also known as Rubina, was a married woman who was also declared kari. Khalida’s husband had been missing for over two years. Khalida wanted a divorce to marry another man. She allegedly attempted to elope with him but was found by family members within hours. As soon as she was recovered, her maternal uncle shot and killed her in public. This happened in Khairpur but was not reported until a video of the killing went viral on social media.
This was not enough vengeance against a young woman who did not want to live her life as an abandoned wife. The dead Khalida was dehumanised even more by not being bathed after death, and not being given a funeral shroud or even a namaz-i-janaza. It is worth noting that even murderers are granted these after they die, but an abandoned woman who had made the decision to marry another man was not considered deserving of these rites.
The people of Khalida Chandio’s village did not stop there. She was buried in a shallow grave. As investigations were going on, her grave was dug up by stray dogs. Authorities reported that 18 people, including her maternal uncle and grandfather, had been arrested. Others were allegedly involved in procuring weapons, filming the incident and facilitating her capture. Their numbers show just how widely known the plan was and how many people approved of what was done to her after she died.
The two cases reveal that it is not only life that is impermissible to women in Pakistan but that even a death with dignity is not available to them. The women who choose to protest are also brutalised, as seen in the actions of police against Aurat March activists demanding justice against such a situation.
Too many women in Pakistan think that such a crime cannot happen to them. They are advised to reflect on these cases and think again.
The writer is an attorney teaching constitutional law and political philosophy.
Published in Dawn, May 16th, 2026