Acid is unforgiving. It does not simply burn skin; it erases identities, reshapes futures and leaves survivors carrying visible reminders of violence long after their wounds have healed. For many victims, the attack lasts only seconds, but its consequences unfold over a lifetime—through painful surgeries, social isolation, psychological trauma and a frustrating search for justice.
Earlier this year, the country watched in horror as Dr Mahnoor Nasir, a young doctor in Quetta, suffered severe burns after acid was allegedly thrown at her by a colleague who had reportedly persistently harassed her. The attack left her with critical injuries, forcing her transfer to Karachi for specialised treatment, and reignited national outrage over a crime many believed had become less common.
But for those working with survivors, Mahnoor's case was not an isolated tragedy. It was a stark reminder that acid violence continues to devastate lives, often in circumstances rooted in rejection, coercion and gender-based abuse. For Mahnoor Omer, a human rights lawyer and gender consultant, acid attacks are among the most extreme manifestations of gender-based violence because their purpose is not simply to injure but to erase identity, autonomy and social standing.
"Acid attacks disproportionately target the face, and that is not incidental—it is deliberate," she said. "One survivor I interviewed in Rawalpindi told me, 'I wish he would have just killed me instead.' That has stayed with me because it reflects how many survivors experience the attack as something worse than death."
For a gender conditioned to scrutinise every mirror they pass in pursuit of aesthetic perfection, the sight of a disfigured face becomes nothing short of a nightmare. Raised in a misogynistic culture where even an occasional acne mark can invite public ridicule, many survivors spend years undergoing reconstructive surgeries while coming to terms with the possibility that they may never look the way they once did.
According to a Karachi-based mental health expert, who is also a professor at a leading medical university, the psychological damage of an acid attack often extends far beyond the survivor. “Families absorb the trauma, communities internalise the fear, and other women, above all, receive a chilling message about the cost of existing in public. For some victims, there is no recovery because we, as a society, disown them in ways we shouldn’t.”
Despite successive legal reforms and increasingly stringent provincial laws, acid attacks remain a grave threat to women in Pakistan, with wide disparities in reported cases pointing to a troubling gap in documentation and enforcement. According to NGO data, Pakistan records an average of 150 to 200 acid attacks annually, though experts believe many cases go unreported.
Figures compiled by the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (HRCP) show 28 incidents affecting 31 women in 2025, with 27 reported in Punjab and three in Sindh, while 11 cases were recorded in the first four months of 2026, all in Punjab. However, Sindh Police reported five cases in 2025 and one more in early 2026, highlighting inconsistencies in official data.
In Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa, police recorded only three cases in 2025 and two in early 2026, a strikingly low figure for a province of over 40 million people, reinforcing concerns that many attacks go unreported rather than prevented.
Following the recent attack on Dr Mahnoor, the Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa Commission on the Status of Women drafted a new provincial law on acid and burn-related crimes. However, lawyer Mehwish Mohib Kakakhel noted that Pakistan’s key challenge is no longer legislation but implementation, as weak investigations, limited legal support and out-of-court settlements continue to undermine justice.
When justice ends on paper
Pakistan strengthened its legal response to acid violence through the Criminal Law (Second Amendment) Act, 2011, recognising acid attacks as a distinct offence under Sections 336-A and 336-B of the Pakistan Penal Code. The law introduced punishments ranging from 14 years’ imprisonment to life, along with substantial fines.
More recently, Punjab introduced the Punjab Acid Control Act 2025, making the sale of acid without a licence a non-bailable offence and requiring vendors to maintain purchaser records. Yet for survivors, the existence of laws has not always translated into justice.
Legal expert Abdullah Malik believed that while Pakistan’s legal framework is comparatively strong, its implementation remains the biggest obstacle. Weak investigations, difficulties in collecting evidence and prolonged court proceedings often prevent survivors from receiving timely justice.
"Investigative shortcomings and prolonged court proceedings often prevent victims from receiving timely justice," he said, noting that some studies place conviction rates in acid attack cases at only 17.3 per cent.
Lawyer Mehwish Mohib Kakakhel, who represents acid attack survivors before the Peshawar High Court, explained that many victims are forced to abandon legal battles because they lack access to legal assistance and support services. "Both the federal and provincial governments have enacted strong legislation, but implementation remains the biggest challenge," she said.
According to Kakakhel, survivors are often pressured into out-of-court settlements, allowing offenders to avoid meaningful punishment. Weak police investigations further damage cases before they even reach trial, while the availability of corrosive substances continues to raise concerns.
According to Zulfiqar Abbasi, in-charge of the Human Rights Cell of Sindh Police, most reported cases in Sindh continue to originate from Karachi. Rights advocates argue that the continued accessibility of acid remains a major factor behind these crimes.
A chemical trader in Karachi’s Saddar area, speaking anonymously, informed that corrosive substances are commonly purchased for household cleaning and agricultural use. "People buy acid to clear blocked sewer lines or remove stains from floors and surfaces. How can shopkeepers refuse to sell it?" he said.
However, Qazi Khizar, Vice Chairman of the Sindh Chapter of the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan, argued that the issue is not the absence of regulations but their weak enforcement.
Under the Acid Control and Acid Crime Prevention Act, 2011, sellers are required to obtain licences and maintain purchaser records, while offenders can face life imprisonment. "The problem is implementation. If existing laws had been enforced properly, many of these attacks could have been prevented," Khizar said.
For this reason, Omer believed prevention requires more than criminal penalties. “While Pakistan has strengthened punishments for acid attacks, implementation remains inconsistent, particularly in regulating the sale of corrosive substances across provinces. Licensing regimes similar to those introduced in Punjab should be enforced nationwide, backed by strict monitoring and meaningful penalties for illegal sales,” said Omer.
Long-term prevention, however, requires confronting the attitudes that give rise to such crimes. Omer advocated integrating education on gender equality, consent and respectful relationships into school curricula, arguing that preventing violence begins with challenging harmful notions of ownership and control during childhood rather than after they manifest in adulthood.
She pointed to initiatives in countries such as the United Kingdom that incorporate healthy relationships and violence prevention into school education, alongside Bangladesh's experience, where tighter regulation of acid sales combined with sustained advocacy contributed to a significant decline in attacks.
Violence rooted in ego
Behind the brutality of acid attacks lies a consistent logic of control—an effort to punish women for refusal, erase their autonomy and mark their bodies with lasting consequences.
Omer noted that researchers have described acid violence as a form of "social death" because the objective extends far beyond physical injury. By permanently disfiguring a woman's face, attackers seek to strip away her identity and fundamentally alter the course of her life.
According to Omer, the choice to target the face reflects deeply rooted gender norms in which a woman's social standing, marriage prospects and economic opportunities often remain closely tied to her appearance. In many communities, survivors not only face lifelong medical complications but also exclusion from education, employment and marriage, compounding the trauma long after their physical wounds begin to heal.
"The calculation by attackers is deliberate," she said. "They understand that disfigurement carries lifelong consequences that extend beyond the physical injuries. It is intended to rob a woman of her confidence, dignity and place in society."
The attacks frequently follow rejected marriage proposals, refusal of romantic advances, domestic disputes or attempts by women to exercise autonomy over their own lives. In such cases, Omer said, acid becomes a weapon of punishment and control rather than impulsive violence.
"It is almost as if the perpetrator is saying, 'You said no to me, so I will ensure no one wants you again,' or 'You won't be able to say no again,'" she said. "The attack is meant to leave a permanent mark—not only on the survivor's body but on her future."
She argued that these crimes are symptoms of broader patriarchal attitudes that normalise male entitlement over women's choices and bodies. "These attacks are not isolated acts of individual rage. They are enabled by socialisation that teaches some men they should never accept rejection, particularly from a woman."
Omer pointed to cases, including those documented in the Academy Award-winning documentary, Saving Face, where family members actively participated in attacks, illustrating that such violence is often reinforced within households rather than committed by perpetrators acting alone.
She also called for earlier intervention before violence escalates. Many survivors, she noted, report experiencing threats, harassment or coercion before the attack itself. Better reporting mechanisms, accessible helplines and awareness campaigns—particularly in rural and underserved communities—could enable authorities to identify high-risk cases before irreversible harm occurs.
Omer also warned against the cycle of public outrage that follows many high-profile incidents before quickly dissipating. "We react with shock, grief and discussion, but once the news cycle moves on, so does public attention," she said. "Structural change requires sustained civic pressure, not periodic bursts of outrage."
For survivors, she added, the attack is designed to inflict far more than physical pain. "An acid attack is an assault on identity. It seeks to force women out of public life, employment, education and even their own sense of self. That is why prevention must address not only the weapon, but the beliefs that make someone think they have the right to use it."
Social activist Rashida Qureshi described acid violence as one of the most extreme forms of gender-based violence, linking attacks to rejected marriage proposals, domestic disputes, property conflicts and attempts to control women’s choices.
“An acid attack doesn’t end when the physical wounds begin to heal. It can forever fracture a woman’s sense of safety, identity, and trust in the people around her. Many assume that recovery happens when they undergo reconstructive surgery. But recovery happens when we help survivors reclaim the belief that they deserve to be seen, valued, and free from fear,” added a Karachi-based psychologist.
Beyond mere survival
Acid violence does not end when the flames fade or when a court case concludes. For survivors, the aftermath often means years of surgeries, psychological recovery and rebuilding a life shaped by trauma. The scale of this struggle is visible at the Civil Hospital Karachi Burns Centre, the only dedicated public-sector burns facility in Sindh and a major referral centre for Balochistan.
According to Dr Khalid Bukhari, Medical Superintendent of Civil Hospital Karachi, the centre treated 20,542 patients suffering from acid attacks and other burn injuries between January 2005 and May 2026. During this period, 7,804 patients died, while 10,768 recovered. The facility also carried out 62,452 surgical procedures and treated 312,569 patients through its outpatient department.
Among them were 448 acid attack survivors treated between January 2007 and May 2026, including 290 men and 156 women. Although acid attacks represent a smaller proportion of overall burns, doctors emphasise that their impact is uniquely destructive because they are often deliberate attempts to permanently alter a person’s appearance.
Dr Summaiya Tariq, Police Surgeon Karachi, described acid violence as one of the most devastating crimes because of its lasting physical and psychological consequences. "Survivors often require months or years of reconstructive treatment. Many continue to experience fear, anxiety and loss of confidence long after their wounds heal," she said.
"For unmarried women, the social consequences can be especially severe, as disfigurement may affect marriage prospects and acceptance within communities," added Dr Tariq, who further revealed that in 2025, the Karachi Police Surgeon’s Office recorded 54 acid attack victims treated at Civil Hospital Karachi, Jinnah Postgraduate Medical Centre and Abbasi Shaheed Hospital.
Former Burns Centre head and plastic surgeon Dr Ashraf Ganatra explained that acid injuries are chemical burns capable of destroying skin, tissue and eyesight within moments. While some injuries occur accidentally, he said deliberate attacks often target the face with the intention of causing permanent damage.
"When acid comes into contact with the eyes, it can severely damage the cornea and lead to partial or complete blindness," he explained. He stressed that immediate washing of the affected area for at least 30 minutes can reduce damage, although many survivors still require repeated surgeries and long-term treatment. The psychological consequences are equally significant.
According to Dr Chooni Lal, Head of the Psychiatry Department at Jinnah Hospital, acid attacks affect a survivor’s confidence, personality and quality of life. Depression, anxiety and social withdrawal are common, with many victims avoiding public spaces because of fear of judgement. "Psychological treatment can help survivors recover and rebuild confidence," Dr Lal said, adding that recovery requires long-term counselling and support.
Meanwhile, Hina Pervaiz Butt, Chairperson of the Punjab Women Protection Authority claimed that the Punjab Acid Control Act 2025 aims to prevent such crimes by regulating acid sales through mandatory licensing and purchaser records. Selling acid without a licence is punishable by up to three years’ imprisonment and a fine of Rs500,000.
SSP Investigation and former AIG Gender Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa Ayesha Khan rejected suggestions that law enforcement treats such offences lightly.
"Cases involving violence against women are among our top priorities. Whenever an incident is reported, an FIR is registered on the basis of facts and evidence. Whether it is an honour-related crime, domestic violence, or an acid attack, police investigations are conducted strictly in accordance with the law," she said.
While Pakistan has made progress through stronger laws and greater awareness, experts agree that legislation alone cannot eliminate acid violence.
Until enforcement is strengthened, hazardous substances properly regulated, and survivors given sustained medical, psychological and social support, acid attacks will continue to lay bare how violence rooted in control, entitlement and punishment of women’s autonomy outpaces legal protections.
With additional reporting by Ahtesham Khan and Mahnoor Tahir