Before 18 is not a crime, after 18 is not a cure: rethinking

Amidst the fête of a so-called HerStoric moment not only by Pakistani feminists but anyone with simple common sense, I am once again mentioning the unpopular questions I have been asking since 2003, long before this issue of legal age of marriage aligned with donor-driven priorities or became fashionable in policy circles. In chorus, a relapsing outbreak of moral panic is being orchestrated by self-appointed sentries of Islam and selectively spread "ethics" that almost always concern themselves with the conduct, corpora and choices of women and girls.

The decree raises the legal age of marriage to 18 for both boys and girls in the ICT and mandates strict punishment most notably for the nikkah-khawan who solemnises such unions. This may provide symbolic relief to rights-based stakeholders. What remains concealed is the country's continued inability to address the issue of adolescent sexuality, social vulnerability and child protection with depth and context. A daring detailed reevaluation reveals that Pakistan is celebrating a partial fix for a deeply complex problem.

As of now, only two regions, Sindh and Islamabad, have enacted laws clearly setting the minimum marriage age at 18. Sindh led the way in 2014 with the Sindh Child Marriage Restraint Act. In contrast, other four regions maintain to manage under the colonial-era Child Marriage Restraint Act of 1929. Punjab could only amend the original 1929 Act in 2015, maintaining a minimum marriage age of 16 for girls. Meanwhile, Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa, Balochistan and Gilgit-Baltistan continue to operate under the outdated 1929 Act, with no substantial amendments to address child marriage.

In December 2015, a bill tabled by the Parliamentary Secretary for Law, calling for making marriages under the age of 18 illegal in Gilgit-Baltistan, was blocked by legislators who called it "un-Islamic", and "against divine law". After the strong opposition, the bill was referred to a select committee for review where it remains buried. Even today, nearly all provinces lack a determined drive toward legal and social protection of millions of children and adolescents.

Not all early marriages are child marriages. But what we are witnessing in many cases is not marriage at all; it is institutionalised child sexual abuse and a legitimised harmful ritual. When such unions are later nullified, these victims are shoved to carry the stigma of being divorced. Can our system handle that reality?

Do we have support mechanisms in place? The answer is no. The state institutions are not available to fathom the compounding trauma and there is no accountability on inaction. Entitling an underage and uninformed arrangement a "marriage" should itself be a cognisable crime.

Rethinking without donor-supported projects is among many other tabooed territories and forbidden fruits in Pakistan. No wonder people like myself never got powerful allies who could dare Rethinking the "Child" in Child Marriage. The term "child" itself needs exploration. Legally, children are under 18. But functionally, our own laws allow for layered maturity: one can get a learner's driving licence at 16, work part-time in informal sectors even earlier, and face adult-style accountability in many contexts before turning 18. From a public health lens, the 10-19 age bracket covers early and late adolescence, a group often left in a policy vacuum. They are not children, and not fully empowered youth either.

Adolescents have distinct sexual and reproductive health and rights (SRHR) needs, which neither laws nor public discourse are willing to acknowledge. This discarding stems from a toxic concoction of cultural abjuration, lack of sex education and fear of addressing "morality".

As per the WHO, pregnancy during adolescence can be associated with increased risks of preeclampsia, premature birth and other health complications. The real risk is pregnancy. Early marriage (post-18), if informed and consensual, is safer than delaying marriage while denying sexuality and reproductive rights. The social cost of delayed marriage in a selectively traditional society is high, particularly when there are no alternatives for safe relationships.

The call to action must extend beyond a single piece of legislation, because one law is neither a reform nor a revolution. If we correctly care about our children including adolescents, we must confront the root causes of child marriage and exploitation with a comprehensive, multi-layered approach. This includes introducing community-based, age-appropriate SRHR education; raising awareness about the safe age for pregnancy with a focus on reducing health risks; and guaranteeing compulsory education for all children for at least 14 years.

The burden should not fall on poor nikah-khawans alone, as scapegoating them ignores the systemic failure to prevent violence and protect children. We must promote responsible parenting, strengthen family and community-based support networks and provide helplines and counseling services for adolescents in distress.

Pakistan must develop and implement a strong national adolescent policy that addresses physical health, mental well-being, SRHR, education and livelihoods. And above all, the state must ban forced marriages at any age, because consent is not a comfort, it is a non-negotiable human right.

While fully regarding the hardwork of our legislators, especially the women lawmakers, it remains a fact that our legislators, largely from affluent backgrounds, have borrowed vision and continue to draft bills that reflect donor glossaries rather than ground realities. We must contextualise these issues within our own religious and socio-economic frameworks.

Islam does not oppose the safeguarding of public health through SRHR education and protection. These aspects deserve greater media attention, and the existing law should be expanded accordingly.

Do not call abuse "marriage". If Pakistan is to protect its young people not just from "child marriage" but from the embedded exploitation then we must build a society where sexuality is comprehended, not dreaded, and where rights are respected, not refuted.

A law in Islamabad is a (delayed) start. But justice for adolescents demands much more.