A newly married couple was shot dead a short distance from the Malir courts in Karachi this week. It was a case of ‘honour killing’.
So what? Learning about it, one may simply feel an uncomfortable mix of sadness and disapproval. Tut-tut. That it happens again and again has diminished the sense of shock and outrage that a particular incident of ‘karo kari’ would arouse. The media has always had other headlines to make a fuss about.
In fact, I am myself a bit uncertain about making this news the focus of this column because it is something I have been writing about for so many years. There have been some gruesome episodes in this saga. There were occasions to grieve over the plight of the young, mainly the women, in a society that is largely governed by conservative and obscurantist passions.
But I have my reasons for writing about the murder of 20-year-old Nadia Aslam and 25-year-old Najeebullah Aziz. To some extent, I see this as an extension of my column last week – ‘A desert in young minds’ – that had underlined the challenges confronted by the youth of Pakistan.
For that matter, I had expressed my concerns for the dilemma of being young in the Pakistani society at this time against the backdrop of sensational revelations attributed to Pinky, the ‘cocaine queen’. (‘Pinky in wonderland’: May 17, 2026).
In any case, I was only able to touch upon the issue of honour killings in my column last week. The point I made was that the young women and men across large segments of society are literally not allowed to fall in love. It actually means that a majority of the young in this country do not have the freedom, and hence the capacity, to live their own lives. Young women are particularly suppressed in a noxious, patriarchal culture.
There was this astounding example of how far relatives of a girl who had eloped with a person she wanted to marry would go to protect what they believed was their ‘honour’. An entire village was set on fire in the Jacobabad district. Yes, there were reports of how the police arrested some of the culprits. But the fact that this major assault by scores of armed persons was possible is an indication of which way the wind is blowing. At least in that rural setting, they are marching backwards and are proud of what they do.
Now, it was in Karachi that Nadia and Najeeb were gunned down. As prescribed in such affairs, Nadia’s own brother was the main suspect. The police claimed to have arrested him the next day. But the big question that bothers me is why he was not checked by the police when he pursued the couple, with his accomplices, after the couple had left the courts?
My point here is that the murder of Nadia and Najeeb could be prevented if the authorities were more alert and fully aware of their responsibilities. That they did not apparently care about the precious lives of two young persons may also be an example of the moral degradation of the Pakistani society.
Here is the story as reported. After Nadia had left her house to marry Najeeeb, her family filed a complaint with the police, claiming that she had been abducted. On Monday, she presented herself before a Malir court to record her statement. She said that she had married Najeeb, who was present, of her own free will and presented her nikahnama.
A senior police official was quoted as saying that when the couple left Malir courts in a rented car, armed assailants on a motorcycle followed them and in the Saudabad area of Malir, they intercepted the car and fired multiple shots. Nadia and Najeeb were killed on the spot.
Considering the circumstances in which the couple had come to the court, why did the police not suspect the possibility of ‘honour killing’? After all, there is a record of similar murders after the victims had left the premises of a court. If the police officials had been watchful, they might have identified the angry brother.
It is heartbreaking to see how these star-crossed lovers, who had shown great courage in defying the primitive values of a family, were brutally murdered. Were they not, in some ways, betrayed by their state, by their society, and by law enforcement authorities who should have seen it coming? Who else stands guilty for this monstrous crime? Are our police officials properly sensitised to deal with these issues?
Essentially, we have to contend with fundamental questions about the process of social change and the values that would set its direction. Would the emancipation and empowerment of women be part of the idea of progress in Pakistani society?
It may be assumed that ‘honour killings’ are mostly prevalent in the tribal and feudal backwaters of Pakistan. A cosmopolitan city like Karachi should supposedly provide a refuge for those who feel suppressed in their traditional, isolated communities. But incidents of ‘honour killings’ and subjugation of women in Karachi and other major cities could be a sign of tribalisation of our urban growth.
We often boast about the values embedded in our family structures compared with those in Western societies. Where is the logic, then, of denying the daughter of the family even her right to live if she dares to fall in love and to wish to be married to that person? It is hard to imagine that a father or brother or some other close male relative would, in a state of frenzy, pitilessly murder a beloved member of the family in the name of honour.
But within certain circles, it has continued to happen. Campaigns against this practice, run by social activists and women’s organisations, have not made much of a difference. And those who sit at the high table of authority do not seem worried about it.
The writer is a senior journalist. He can be reached at: [email protected]
