From beautiful bride, to victim of marital rape, this is the story of Shanti, a 19-year-old whose husband has been charged under the Domestic Violence (Prevention and Protection) Act of 2013.
By Zofeen Ebrahim
KARACHI, Pakistan, Jul 30 2025 – “The last thing she asked for was a sip of water,” recalled Najma Maheshwari, referring to 19-year-old Shanti, a newlywed who died last week after brutal sexual violence allegedly inflicted by her husband, who is now in custody.
“Then she closed her eyes and never opened them again,” she said quietly, her voice steeped in sadness.
Najma, a social activist from Shanti’s neighborhood, accompanied her brother Sayon to the government-run Shaheed Benazir Bhutto Trauma Centre. “Her insides were torn, she was bleeding profusely from her anus and writhing in pain. Hospital visitors urged us to move the gurney outside, complaining the stench was unbearable.
“While cleaning her, medics removed worms from her gut—her injuries were that severe. I’ve seen much in my work, but never such horror or pain,” Najma told IPS by phone from her home in Lyari, an informal settlement in Karachi.
Najma Maheshwari, the social activist who was with Shanti when she died.
After two weeks at the hospital and a day trip to attend Shanti’s funeral in her village, 38-year-old Najma—mother of four—was deeply shaken. “I can’t eat, and the indescribable stench still haunts me,” she said.
According to the complaint lodged by Sayon with the police, Shanti’s husband, Ashok Mohan, had “inserted a metal pipe” followed by his “hand and arm” in her anus two days after her marriage. Not content, he bit her on her breasts and neck and threatened to kill her if she disclosed the act to anyone.
“They were engaged for two years before we married her off; she was very happy during the celebrations,” recalled Sonya, Shanti’s sister-in-law, adding the groom, 25, lived just a few lanes away and seemed like a good match.
The sexual violence, just three days after her marriage, led Shanti to bleed heavily from the anus. When the bleeding wouldn’t stop, her in-laws took her to two health facilities, but when the doctors gave up, they brought her home.
“We went to see her… she lay motionless, and her mother-in-law claimed it was just diarrhea and her period, so we left, not realizing how serious it was,” said Sonya.
Two weeks later, as Shanti’s condition worsened, her in-laws called her brother. Seeing her state, he rushed her to the hospital—but it was too late.
“There was clear evidence of anal trauma caused by sexual violence,” confirmed Dr. Summaiya Sayed, Karachi’s chief police surgeon, saying Shanti was brought in “comatose” and placed on a ventilator. Her injuries worsened as she continued passing stool, leading to her death three weeks later.
“This is a clear-cut case of marital rape,” said Syeda Bushra, a lawyer at Karachi-based Legal Aid Society, which provides free legal aid. She has handled sexual violence cases for nearly a decade.
While no specific law currently defines marital rape, the Domestic Violence (Prevention and Protection) Act of 2013 holds husbands accountable as violators.
“Though the law may not explicitly mention marital rape, its broadened definition under Section 376 of the Pakistan Penal Code allows prosecution of husbands,” explained Bushra.
This marks a significant shift from Section 375 of the PPC, which previously exempted marital sex—an exemption removed in 2006 by the Protection of Women (Criminal Laws Amendment) Act.
Bushra described marital rape as “undeniably a form of domestic abuse” but noted it remains rarely reported. Many women choose divorce instead, as marital rape is still taboo and often not even recognized as such.
Government surveys reveal grim realities: the Pakistan Demographic and Health Survey (PDHS) reported that 47 percent of respondents in 2012–2013 considered wife-beating justifiable—a figure that only slightly declined to 43 percent by 2017–2018. The World Economic Forum’s 2023 data paints an even darker picture, showing that 85 percent of married women in Pakistan experience physical or sexual violence—far higher than Bangladesh’s 53 percent and India’s 29 percent.
Islamabad-based gender and governance expert Fauzia Yazdani highlights how religious texts and traditions are often deliberately misinterpreted to justify abuse. Supporting Yazdani’s view, lawyer Bushra notes that women brave enough to seek justice frequently face defense attorneys citing selective Quranic verses to defend their husbands. “It’s not just disturbing—it’s deeply problematic,” Bushra said.
While activists challenge these harmful narratives, legal experts push for accountability within the justice system.
“The cruelty of the act that led to Shanti’s death means her husband may face charges of both rape and murder, setting a vital precedent for criminalizing marital rape,” said Bahzad Akbar, a lawyer at the Legal Aid Society who has specialized in gender-based violence cases for four years.
In 2022, Akbar secured Sindh’s first-ever marital rape conviction, where the husband was sentenced to three years’ imprisonment and fined Rs 30,000 (USD 106) for sodomy. But it took two years for the verdict.
Najma (center), Sonya (wearing yellow on Najma’s left), and their brother (on Najma’s right) were sitting on the pavement outside the trauma center where Shanti was fighting for her life. Credit: Seema Maheshwari
Today, with the 2021 Anti-Rape Act having established special courts, Akbar is hopeful for a swift trial and justice in Shanti’s case.
“Shanti’s case will be a test for society,” he said, “Offering hope to women enduring sexual abuse in marriage that justice is possible.”
Tragically, Shanti’s case did not spark widespread outrage.
“That’s because she was a woman, and in this society, women are seen as disposable,” explained Yazdani.
According to her, gender-based violence is rarely recognized as a crime in Pakistan’s collective mindset, which is why it remains inadequately addressed within institutions.
“There’s still no official definition for misogyny and patriarchy; there are no local terms capture these concepts,” she said, holding the government, the judiciary, the police, the country’s opinion makers, and even independent oversight bodies responsible for failing the Pakistani women “over and over again.”
This disconnect between societal attitudes and institutional responses, she argued, creates a void that even robust laws struggle to bridge.
Legal experts acknowledge that while Pakistan has strong laws protecting women, enforcement remains weak.
“When laws are made in a social vacuum, what do you expect; they will remain ineffective,” observed Yazdani.
That disconnect between law and lived reality is starkly visible in the experiences shared by healthcare professionals.
“I meet smart, accomplished women who still believe they have no right to refuse their husbands. Many see sex without consent as their marital duty,” said Dr. Azra Ahsan, a senior gynecologist and obstetrician based in Karachi.
After years of hearing young, married women quietly confide their pain—often long after the damage was done—Dr. Ahsan became convinced that sexual and reproductive health (SRH) education is crucial to raising awareness about reproductive health, including marital rape.
To fill this gap, she and a group of like-minded doctors at the Association for Mothers and Newborns (AMAN)*—the implementation arm of Pakistan’s National Committee for Maternal and Neonatal Health—developed Bakhabar Noujawan (Informed Youth), an online SRH program endorsed by the Ministry of National Health Services, Regulations and Coordination, launched in 2023.
“We’re trying to introduce it in colleges, but convincing faculty is an uphill battle—they first need to grasp the course’s importance,” she said.
Covering over two dozen culturally sensitive topics—from premarital counselling, child and cousin marriage, domestic violence, STIs, to teenage pregnancy—the programme doesn’t shy away from tough conversations. “We’re now developing a module on marital rape,” says Ahsan, head of AMAN. “The first draft is nearly complete.”
Alongside SRH education, Sayed emphasized the need for mental health and emotional wellness programs.
“Too many young people carry the trauma of childhood sexual abuse,” she said. “As they grow, that buried pain can manifest in troubling ways—some develop sadistic or masochistic behaviors, especially when exposed to unchecked pornography. It doesn’t heal them; it deepens the harm.”
Lawyer Akbar, who has handled nearly two dozen child sexual abuse cases over the past four years, said 70% involved incest. At Karachi’s three medicolegal centers, Sayed reports 4–8 sexual violence cases daily, yet only three alleged marital rape cases were recorded in 2024—underscoring severe underreporting.
Experts say this silence stems from deeply entrenched norms conditioning women to endure abuse rather than speak out.
“Even today, parents tell their daughters at marriage, ‘Your husband’s home is your final home—you should only leave it in death’,” said Yazdani, adding that Pakistani society remains bound by social mores that consistently deny women their rights. “She is compartmentalized and viewed only through the lens of relationships, her duty simply to obey the men around her—father, brother, husband, even her son.”
* The writer serves on the executive committee of this nonprofit in a voluntary capacity but had no part in the development of the SRH course.
IPS UN Bureau Report
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