Acid and impunity

Sabra Sultana. Raheela Raheem. Noreen Jabbar. Iqra Parveen. Naila Farhat. And now Dr Mahnoor Khan Nasar. These are only some of the names of the thousands of acid attack survivors in Pakistan. Some dared to reject marriage proposals from men who couldn't stomach a simple 'no'. Some were targeted because their husbands couldn't bear the thought of being left. Each name carries a story of unimaginable pain - and each story holds up a mirror to a society that has repeatedly looked away.

While Dr Mahnoor's case is still under investigation, it goes beyond doubt that nothing she – or any other woman for that matter – has done could warrant behaviour as heinous and calculated as an acid attack. For any sane person, assaulting someone with a corrosive substance capable of destroying a life physically, mentally, socially and financially is an unimaginable crime. The depravity of an acid attack goes beyond pardon. Yet countless men roam free after subjecting women to such horrors - some protected by power and some by sheer state negligence.

Dr Mahnoor's case reflects our collective failure as a society. When someone who has pledged their life to healing others can be targeted in such a brutal manner, the community that has shaped and nurtured the perpetrator has no moral leg left to stand on. And as dismal as it is, Pakistan has a sordid history of nurturing these brutal men. The memory of Fakhra Younus still lives in our minds - a woman who suffered an acid attack allegedly by a prominent political figure in 2000 and ended up taking her own life at 33.

These stories should shake us to the core and shame us into action. Enforcing the ban on unauthorised acid sale and tightening regulations is the absolute bare minimum that this country owes its women. This time, we must not look away.