wat, which has been described as Pakistan’s Switzerland, is known for its lush valleys, rushing rivers and snow-capped peaks. On the surface, life here seems peaceful. Tourists visit, markets remain busy and children play in the streets. Yet beneath this veneer of normalcy, hundreds of women face a reality marked by violence, fear and silence. In 2025, the district witnessed gender-based violence on a disturbing scale. Much of it was hidden or normalised. Rarely was it punished.

According to The Awakening, a women’s rights organisation, at least 36 women lost their lives in Swat during 2025. Of these, 17 were killed in the name of so-called honour, 17 succumbed to severe physical violence and two died by suicide after prolonged domestic abuse and social pressure. Activists stress that these figures represent only the visible portion of a much larger crisis. Many cases remain unreported.

Police statistics acknowledge 11 honour killings and nine suicides, exposing a gap between civil society documentation and government data. Rights advocates say this discrepancy highlights systemic underreporting, weak institutions and entrenched social norms that protect perpetrators while silencing victims.

Violence begins at home

For many women in Swat, danger begins at home. Most cases involve husbands, brothers, fathers or other close relatives. This violence is frequently justified in terms of discipline, tradition or a matter of family honour.

Zainab*, a 28-year-old GBV survivor from Matta, recounts years of abuse at the hands of her husband. “He beat me for not bringing expected dowry, for talking to neighbours, for asking for medical treatment,” she says. “When I complained to my parents, they told me to be patient. They said a woman belongs in her husband’s house.”

Zainab’s case reached the police only after she was hospitalised with internal injuries. Her in-laws attempted to negotiate a private settlement. “They said, ‘Why ruin the family name?’” she recalls. “My life was not important to them.” Cases like hers underline the social pressures that force women to silently suffer abuse silently.

Honour killings

So-called honour killings remain one of the most brutal forms of gendered violence in Swat. Mere suspicion of disobedience—speaking to a neighbour, pursuing education or resisting forced marriage—can trigger murder. Local elders, mediators and relatives often frame such killings as moral corrections rather than crime. Families frequently refuse post-mortem examination, pressure witnesses and settle cases through jirgas, leaving many murders unreported or misclassified.

Human rights lawyer Samreen Hakeem, who is based in Mingora, says: “The so-called honour is a cultural shield. It protects perpetrators and stigmatises victims. There is a law against this, but the society resists its application. Families often settle these cases privately. Police are powerless after witnesses withdraw crucial statements.”

“Many cases die before they become statistics. This means countless survivors suffer in silence, and many perpetrators walk free.”

Suicide as silent protest

Suicide, often recorded as an isolated incident, is closely linked to sustained domestic abuse, forced marriage and social isolation. According to The Awakening, at least two women in Swat ended their lives in 2025 after enduring sustained violence. Some reports suggest higher numbers.

Psychologist Maria Subhan, who works with survivors in the district, warns that many deaths are misclassified. “When a woman jumps into a river or consumes poison, investigations rarely explore her history of abuse,” she says. “Suicide then becomes the final, invisible consequence of violence. Many of these women see no escape from humiliation, neglect and social pressure.”

Data gaps and underreporting

The gap between NGO and police data is not accidental. Families avoid legal action to preserve social reputation, women fear retaliation or economic abandonment and police investigations often rely on complainant cooperation, which may be withdrawn. Informal dispute resolution mechanisms frequently override formal law; medical evidence is often poorly preserved.

Hakeem notes, “Many cases die before they become statistics. This means countless survivors suffer in silence and many perpetrators walk free.”

Institutional weakness

Despite progressive legislation on ‘honour’ killings and domestic violence, implementation remains weak in Swat. Conviction rates remain low and survivors often lack access to sustained legal and psychological support. Shelters are limited and under-resourced, witness protection is virtually absent. Women who return home frequently face renewed violence, social exclusion and economic hardship.

Police argue that they act on formally reported cases but are constrained when families agree to compromise. “Our hands are tied if families withdraw complaints,” a senior officer says. Rights organisations allege that police often discourage registration, treat domestic violence as private matter and fail to pursue investigations with urgency. Gender desks and women facilitation centres remain understaffed, particularly in rural areas where female officers are scarce.

Normalised abuse

Cultural narratives in Swat continue to prioritise family honour over women’s safety. Silence is framed as a virtue. Endurance is treated as morality. Survivors repeatedly voice fears:

“If I complain, I will lose my children.”

“The community will boycott my family.”

“No one will marry my sisters.”

“The police will not protect me.”

These fears are not unfounded. Several women have reported threats after filing FIRs. Some have been forced to withdraw cases under jirga decisions.

Voices from the ground

In interviews across Swat, survivors paint a picture of fear and isolation. Women describe being trapped in abusive relatives, societal stigma and ineffective institutions. “I cannot speak,” one survivor said. “If I do, my children will suffer. No one will listen to me.”

For women like Zainab, survival itself is an act of resistance. “I do not want revenge,” she says. “I want my daughters to live without fear.”

The writer is a freelance journalist from Swat and a PhD Scholar in media and mass communication. Email: [email protected]