Beyond the Shadow of Silence: Pakistan’s Holistic Revolution in Survivor Support and the Fight Against Gender-Based Violence
For Nadia*, a dedicated young tutor living in the bustling metropolis of Karachi, life was defined by the quiet rhythms of education and community. Like millions of other young professional women in Pakistan, her digital life was an extension of her social one—a tool for connection and work. However, that sense of security began to erode with a single notification on her phone. It was a WhatsApp message from a neighbor, a man she had known and trusted for years. What began as a series of seemingly innocuous check-ins quickly devolved into a persistent stream of invasive, personal, and deeply uncomfortable messages.
Nadia’s experience is a textbook example of how digital harassment often serves as a precursor to physical violence. She found herself trapped in a modern dilemma: she felt the weight of the discomfort but lacked a clear roadmap for reporting a crime that existed only on a screen. In a society where digital boundaries are often blurred and female privacy is frequently undervalued, she didn’t know where to turn.
The situation reached a horrific breaking point one afternoon when the neighbor escalated his digital stalking into physical reality. He forced his way into her home, transforming her sanctuary into a crime scene. “He overpowered me,” Nadia recalls, her voice carrying the weight of a trauma that millions of women across the globe share but few discuss openly. “I was paralyzed by fear and blacked out.” When she finally regained consciousness, she was in a hospital bed, facing the daunting prospect of a future reshaped by assault.
Nadia’s story is not an isolated incident; it is a reflection of a systemic crisis. Data from the last five years indicates that approximately 1.8 million women in Pakistan have fallen victim to cyber-crimes, ranging from blackmail to non-consensual image sharing and harassment. Despite the scale of this digital epidemic, the path to justice remains obstructed; only 3.5 percent of perpetrators are ever convicted. In 2023 alone, the Digital Rights Foundation’s Helpline recorded nearly 2,500 complaints, with the majority coming from women harassed via platforms like WhatsApp and Facebook.
While Pakistan’s Prevention of Electronic Crimes Act (PECA) of 2016 was designed to criminalize these actions—carrying penalties of up to three years in prison—the reality on the ground is often different. Weak enforcement, a lack of public awareness, and the crushing weight of social stigma continue to act as deterrents, keeping survivors from stepping forward.
However, the tide is beginning to turn, fueled by a transformative approach to survivor care. On the day of her attack, Nadia’s journey toward healing began not just with medical treatment, but with empathy. Her parents, breaking through the traditional silence that often surrounds such incidents, brought her to Pakistan’s first Anti-Rape Crisis Cell (ARCC) in Karachi.
Established in 2023 through a strategic partnership between UN Women and the U.S. Embassy’s Office of International Narcotics and Law Enforcement (INL), the ARCC represents a paradigm shift in how the state handles sexual violence. Traditionally, a survivor would have to navigate a fragmented system: visiting a hospital for medical care, a police station for a First Information Report (FIR), and a separate laboratory for forensic evidence, often facing skepticism or secondary victimization at every stop. The ARCC changes this by providing medical treatment, psychosocial counseling, legal guidance, and forensic support under a single roof, available 24 hours a day.
For Nadia, the integrated nature of the ARCC was lifesaving. Through intensive therapy and supportive counseling, she began the difficult work of dismantling the “victim-blaming” narrative that many survivors internalize. “For the first time since the attack, I felt I wasn’t alone,” she explains. “The Anti-Rape Crisis Cell gave me my voice back. I have the strength to demand justice—not just for me, but for every woman who has been silenced.”
The urgency of these cells cannot be overstated. Statistics from the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan reveal a grim reality: in 2023, 6,624 rape cases were registered nationwide. This averages out to one woman being raped every 45 minutes. Yet, the conviction rate remains abysmal. This failure of justice is attributed to a combination of factors: inadequate police training, poor forensic preservation, judicial delays, and a culture of impunity that protects the powerful.
The catalyst for legislative change was a moment of national reckoning in 2020. Following a horrific gang rape on a major highway, public outrage erupted, specifically targeting officials who had publicly blamed the victim for traveling late at night. This collective anger paved the way for the Anti-Rape Act of 2021. This landmark legislation mandated the creation of ARCCs and standardized the medical and legal procedures for handling sexual assault cases.
But as experts note, a law is only as effective as its implementation. With the support of the INL, UN Women has worked closely with the Pakistani government to ensure these cells are not just bureaucratic entities, but functional, well-funded sanctuaries. Dr. Summaiya Syed, the Chief Police Surgeon in Karachi, has seen the impact firsthand. “Over the years, we have witnessed countless cases of sexual violence in Pakistan,” she notes. “The concept of the crisis cell is transformative. It brings together all essential services—medical and psychological support, evidence collection, and legal aid—ensuring survivors receive justice with dignity.”
The success of the Karachi pilot has led to a rapid expansion. Today, six ARCCs are operational in major hubs including Islamabad, Lahore, Multan, and Rawalpindi. These cells are strategically located within government hospitals and maintain direct links to police reporting centers. The impact in 2024 alone has been significant: the cells provided essential services to 437 survivors, more than half of whom were children.
One of the most critical gaps the ARCCs are closing is the quality of legal evidence. Chaudhary Muhammad Jahangir, Director General of the Centre for Professional Development of Public Prosecutors, points out that many cases previously collapsed because medical and legal officers were not properly trained in drafting forensic reports. By staffing these cells with specialized, trained professionals, the integrity of the evidence is preserved, significantly strengthening the prosecution’s case against perpetrators.
Nadia’s story, while born in tragedy, is moving toward a conclusion of empowerment. Her perpetrator was arrested and charged under the Anti-Rape Act. While the legal proceedings are ongoing, Nadia has reclaimed her life. She has returned to her vocation as a teacher and has stepped into a new role as a community advocate. She now uses her experience to guide other women through the system, ensuring they know that help is available. “No woman should ever endure what I went through,” she says. “But if they do, I want them to know they are not alone.”
As Pakistan approaches the milestone of the Beijing+30 commitments, the expansion of the ARCC network stands as a testament to the country’s progress in protecting women’s rights. This initiative aligns with the global “16 Days of Activism against Gender-Based Violence,” a campaign that runs from November 25 to December 10. This year, the focus is sharpened on the digital frontier under the theme #NoExcuse for online abuse.
The message from leaders like Jamshed M. Kazi, UN Women Representative in Pakistan, is clear: the ARCCs embody hope and resilience. By building systems that prioritize the survivor’s dignity and integrate justice with care, Pakistan is creating a blueprint for a future where the digital and physical worlds are safe spaces for all women. The goal remains steadfast: to ensure that for every survivor like Nadia, there is a path from the darkness of assault to the light of justice and recovery.
*The survivor’s name has been changed to protect her identity and privacy.
