For Nadia*, a young tutor living in the bustling metropolis of Karachi, the digital world was once a tool for professional growth and community connection. That changed with a single notification on her phone. What began as a routine WhatsApp exchange with a long-time neighbor—a man her family had trusted for years—devolved into a persistent campaign of invasive messaging. The tone shifted from neighborly pleasantries to uncomfortable personal inquiries, leaving Nadia trapped in a state of mounting anxiety. Like many women in Pakistan, she found herself at a crossroads of uncertainty, unsure of where the line of legality was drawn or how to report a threat that felt both invisible and deeply personal.
The transition from digital harassment to physical violence was abrupt and devastating. One afternoon, the neighbor forced his way into Nadia’s home, transforming her private sanctuary into a crime scene. “He overpowered me,” Nadia recalls, her voice steady but the memory still sharp. “I was paralyzed by fear and blacked out.” When she regained consciousness, she was in a hospital bed, facing a reality that thousands of Pakistani women endure every year—a reality often met with silence, shame, and systemic indifference.
The statistics surrounding gender-based violence in Pakistan paint a sobering picture of a national crisis. According to data from the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan, 6,624 rape cases were officially registered in 2023 alone. This figure translates to a horrifying frequency: one woman is raped every 45 minutes across the country. Yet, these numbers represent only the tip of the iceberg, as many cases go unreported due to the crushing weight of social stigma and the fear of retaliation.
In the digital realm, the danger is equally pervasive. Over the last five years, an estimated 1.8 million women in Pakistan have been targeted by cyber-crimes, ranging from harassment and blackmail to the non-consensual sharing of private data. In 2023, the Digital Rights Foundation’s Helpline recorded 2,473 complaints, with nearly 60 percent originating from women who reported harassment via platforms like WhatsApp and Facebook. Despite the existence of the Prevention of Electronic Crimes Act (PECA) of 2016—which carries penalties of up to three years in prison and million-rupee fines—the conviction rate for these crimes remains a dismal 3.5 percent. The gap between the law on paper and justice in practice is often bridged by weak enforcement and a lack of public awareness.
For Nadia, the path to healing began with an unprecedented shift in the way the state handles survivors. Her parents, breaking the cycle of silence that often follows such trauma, brought her to Pakistan’s inaugural Anti-Rape Crisis Cell (ARCC) in Karachi. Established in 2023, this facility represents a paradigm shift in survivor support. Developed through a partnership between UN Women and the U.S. Embassy’s Office of International Narcotics and Law Enforcement (INL), the ARCC is designed as a “one-stop” facility.
Historically, a survivor in Pakistan would have to navigate a grueling gauntlet of disparate institutions: a police station for a First Information Report (FIR), a government hospital for a medical exam, and a separate forensic lab for evidence collection—all while facing potential judgment from untrained staff. The ARCC model collapses these barriers, providing medical treatment, psychosocial counseling, legal guidance, and forensic support under a single roof, available 24 hours a day.
“For the first time since the attack, I felt I wasn’t alone,” Nadia says of her experience at the cell. The integrated approach allowed her to receive therapy and supportive counseling that focused on a crucial realization: the attack was not her fault. This psychological intervention was vital in restoring her sense of self and security. “The Anti-Rape Crisis Cell gave me my voice back,” she explains. “I have the strength to demand justice—not just for me, but for every woman who has been silenced.”
The creation of these cells was not an overnight development but the result of a hard-won legislative battle fueled by public outrage. In 2020, a gang rape on a major motorway sparked nationwide protests, particularly after high-ranking officials engaged in victim-blaming by questioning why the survivor was driving late at night. This “Me Too” moment for Pakistan led to the passage of the Anti-Rape Act of 2021. The Act introduced more stringent protections, standardized medical-legal procedures, and mandated the establishment of ARCCs.
However, as advocates often note, laws are only as effective as their implementation. With the support of the INL, UN Women worked closely with the Pakistani government to develop the standard operating procedures necessary to make these cells functional and sustainable. Today, ARCCs are mandatory in government hospitals, ensuring that the infrastructure of justice is as accessible as the infrastructure of healthcare.
Dr. Summaiya Syed, the Chief Police Surgeon in Karachi, has spent years on the front lines of this crisis. She views the ARCC as a transformative evolution in the medical-legal field. “Over the years, we have witnessed countless cases of sexual violence,” she explains. “The concept of the crisis cell is transformative: it brings together all essential services—medical and psychological support, evidence collection and preservation, forensic analysis, assistance in FIR registration, and legal aid—under one roof, ensuring survivors receive justice with dignity.”
One of the most significant hurdles in securing convictions has historically been the quality of evidence. Chaudhary Muhammad Jahangir, Director General of the Centre for Professional Development of Public Prosecutors, points out that legal cases often crumble because medical and legal officers lack the specific training required to draft airtight reports. “In many cases, medical/legal officers are not properly trained on drafting reports,” he notes, explaining how this weakness allows perpetrators to evade justice. The ARCCs address this by staffing each unit with specialized, trained professionals who understand the nuances of forensic evidence and the legal requirements of the Anti-Rape Act.
The success of the Karachi pilot has led to a rapid expansion. By 2024, six ARCCs were operational in key urban centers, including Islamabad, Lahore, Multan, and Rawalpindi. These centers are strategically linked to police reporting centers to ensure a seamless transition from medical care to legal action. The impact is already measurable: in 2024 alone, these six cells provided life-changing services to 437 survivors, a staggering 219 of whom were children.
Jamshed M. Kazi, the UN Women Representative in Pakistan, describes the cells as embodiments of “hope and resilience.” They represent a move away from a reactive system toward a proactive, survivor-centric framework. For Nadia, this system worked. Her perpetrator was arrested and charged under the Anti-Rape Act. While the legal proceedings continue, the power dynamic has shifted. Nadia is no longer a victim hiding in fear; she has returned to her career as a tutor and has taken on a new role as a community advocate. She now uses her experience to guide other survivors toward the resources they need to reclaim their lives.
“No woman should ever endure what I went through,” Nadia says. “But if they do, I want them to know they are not alone.”
As Pakistan prepares to mark the 30th anniversary of the Beijing Declaration and Platform for Action (Beijing+30), the expansion of the ARCC network serves as a concrete milestone in the country’s commitment to gender equality. The initiative also aligns with the global “16 Days of Activism against Gender-Based Violence,” which runs from November 25 to December 10. This year, the campaign’s focus on the theme “#NoExcuse” highlights the urgent need to address online abuse.
Digital spaces, which should serve as platforms for empowerment, have too often become minefields for women and girls. The UNiTE campaign emphasizes that digital violence is not a “lesser” form of abuse; it is often the precursor to physical harm, as seen in Nadia’s case. By integrating digital crime awareness with physical protection services, Pakistan is building a comprehensive defense against the spectrum of violence.
The journey toward a society free of sexual violence is long, but the establishment of Anti-Rape Crisis Cells marks a point of no return. By prioritizing the dignity of the survivor and the professionalization of the justice system, Pakistan is sending a clear message: there is no excuse for violence, and there is no longer a place for perpetrators to hide behind the veil of systemic neglect.
*The name of the survivor has been changed to protect her identity and ensure her continued safety.
