
By Rumisa Malik
A young bride from Gujranwala has become the latest casualty of a brutal and entrenched custom: she was allegedly killed by her in-laws because her dowry did not meet their expectations. What began as simmering tension following her marriage escalated into violence, and despite being rushed to hospital, she did not survive. Another life lost, another family shattered, and yet the haunting question remains: how many more?
This tragedy is not an anomaly. It is the continuation of a practice that has long inflicted profound human and social costs across Pakistan. The dowry system, legally restricted and religiously discouraged, remains firmly embedded in both rural and urban communities, cutting across wealth and class lines. What may once have been intended as a gesture of goodwill—a symbolic gift to help a young couple start their life together—has been transformed into a transactional demand. In this perverse distortion, marriage becomes a contract contingent on wealth, and women are reduced to commodities whose value is measured in money, jewellery, and property.
The consequences are devastating. Families bear immense burdens to meet these demands, often selling land, taking loans, and depleting savings just to secure a marriage for their daughters. And yet, even meeting these expectations does not guarantee safety or respect. Dissatisfaction from in-laws can escalate from emotional manipulation to physical abuse, and in too many cases, to murder. Shabana from Sadhan was electrocuted in 2015 for “insufficient dowry.” Shakeela, just 18, from Kehna, was strangled by her in-laws. In June this year, a woman in Sahiwal was set ablaze over a dowry dispute worth Rs 2.2 million. These are not distant tragedies from another era—they are happening today, in homes we consider respectable and in communities that pride themselves on tradition and family honor.
Silence compounds the problem. Victims often remain quiet out of fear, shame, or societal pressure. Families, eager to protect what they see as “honor,” frequently avoid seeking justice. Even when women speak out, the law offers little protection. Pakistan’s Dowry and Bridal Gifts (Restriction) Act of 1976 caps dowry at Rs 5,000, with wedding costs limited to Rs 2,500, yet enforcement is negligible. Reforms, including a 2017 initiative in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, have failed to produce meaningful change. Courts rarely impose stringent penalties, and police are often reluctant to register complaints or pursue investigations vigorously. The law exists, but its reach is painfully limited, and its deterrent effect is almost nil.
The problem is as much cultural as it is legal. Dowry perpetuates the idea that daughters are burdens, their value measurable in material terms rather than character, knowledge, or abilities. It entrenches inequality and vulnerability, sending a message to every girl from birth that her worth is transactional. Families who cannot meet dowry demands risk humiliation; daughters whose families cannot pay the expected sums risk abuse or even death. This toxic system reinforces patriarchal hierarchies, where power, wealth, and gender intersect to produce preventable suffering.
Addressing dowry-related violence requires more than legislation. Authorities must enforce existing laws rigorously, treating all reports of dowry harassment, abuse, or murder as serious criminal matters rather than domestic disputes to be mediated quietly. Police, prosecutors, and judges must recognize the deadly consequences of non-enforcement, and they must act with urgency and impartiality. Religious leaders also have a crucial role to play. Islamic teachings emphasize simplicity, compassion, and fairness in marriage; faith-based advocacy must challenge extravagant wedding practices and the cultural obsession with dowry, reaffirming that women are not commodities.
Communities and schools have a responsibility as well. Education should challenge entrenched beliefs that equate a woman’s value with her financial contribution to a marriage. Community organisations and media outlets must elevate stories that highlight families rejecting dowry as examples of moral courage, rather than glorifying wealth and material transactions as markers of social standing. Public campaigns can expose the human cost of dowry and foster social attitudes that celebrate dignity over display, character over commodity.
The broader challenge is societal transformation. Ending dowry-related violence requires a shift in collective consciousness, a reimagining of marriage as a partnership grounded in respect, trust, and mutual care, rather than negotiation over wealth and assets. Families must recognize that their daughters’ security, happiness, and lives matter far more than social prestige or material gain. Until society internalizes these values, tragic stories like that of the Gujranwala bride will continue to repeat themselves.
Each life lost is a reminder of the stakes involved. Every woman killed or abused in the name of dowry represents a failure not just of law, but of culture, morality, and conscience. The question is not merely how to legislate against dowry but how to dismantle a system that commodifies human life and entrenches gendered violence. Pakistan faces a moral imperative: to protect its daughters, uphold their dignity, and challenge traditions that devalue women.
(The writer is a student and a social commentator, can be contacted at news@metro-morning.com)