The silence that kills

"Sometimes, far away in the night, a wolf howled. Then he came nearer and howled again. It was a scary sound. Laura knew that wolves would eat little girls." — From Little House in the Big Woods.

In her classical children's book, Laura Ingalls Wilder used these words to describe the monstrous inclination among wild carnivores to attack defenceless little girls in the anarchic forests of the 1870s in pre-modern America.

More than a century later, the landscape has changed, but the fear has not. To our utter dismay, little girls in modern, heavily policed Pakistan still face predators—only now, they are not wolves in the wilderness, but members of their own species, hiding in the shadows of supposedly civilized society.

Once again, the nation confronts the devastating consequences of failing to teach boys the most basic lesson of humanity. The alleged rape and murder of an 18-month-old baby girl, Aizel, by a close relative in Karachi’s Qayyumabad area has shattered public conscience and highlighted a painful reality: for many girls, the greatest danger comes from the very spaces and people they are taught to trust.

Yet there is another disturbing reality that accompanies these tragedies: the alarming ease with which we as a society have become desensitised to such unthinkable horrors. Reports of children being abducted, sexually assaulted and murdered appear with such alarming frequency that each new case risks becoming another headline, another social-media outrage and, eventually, another forgotten story.

What should horrify society into action has instead become part of the daily news cycle. The repetition itself is a warning—not only about the scale of the problem, but about our growing inability to sustain outrage long enough to demand meaningful change.

The Aizel case came months after the appalling case of seven-year-old Muntaha Zahra—but just days before the abduction, sexual assault and murder of five-year-old Ayat Noor miles away in Haripur. These devastating events have reignited a difficult question: how can children be protected before abuse turns into another tragedy?

Every afternoon, after returning from preschool, four-year-old Ayesha Khan settles beside her mother on the living room floor. Instead of beginning with the alphabet or counting numbers, her lesson starts with a different conversation—one her mother never imagined she would have with a child so young.

"Your body belongs to you," Shagufta Bibi gently tells her daughter. "If anyone tries to touch you in a way that makes you uncomfortable, you should say no, move away and tell Mama immediately." The conversation lasts only a few minutes, but for the 35-year-old mother from Peshawar, it has become one of the most important lessons she teaches.

"I pray that my daughter never experiences such a situation," she says quietly. "But if she ever does, I want her to know she has the right to say no and that she should never remain silent." Her fears reflect those of countless parents across Pakistan, where child sexual abuse remains one of the country's most disturbing yet least discussed crimes. Behind every reported case lies another childhood interrupted, another family devastated and, experts believe, many more incidents that never come to light.

According to the latest half-yearly report by an Islamabad-based watchdog that documents child abuse, 1,914 cases of violence and abuse against children were reported across Pakistan between January and June 2026. On average, around 11 children were reported as victims every day. Sexual abuse remained the most prominent category, with 1,015 cases, followed by 558 cases of child abduction. The report recorded 101 missing children and 35 child-marriage cases.

It also documented 98 cases of child pornography linked to sexual exploitation and 49 incidents involving infants found abandoned. Girls accounted for 58 per cent of reported victims and boys 42 per cent. In child pornography cases, however, boys accounted for 59 per cent of victims compared with 41 per cent girls.

Punjab reported nearly 80 per cent of the total cases, Sindh 15 per cent, while the remaining incidents came from Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa, Balochistan, Islamabad, Azad Jammu and Kashmir and Gilgit-Baltistan. Faisalabad topped the district list with 337 cases, followed by Multan 185, Lahore 121, Gujranwala 111, Kasur 110, Rahim Yar Khan 97, Rawalpindi 78, Vehari 70, Sialkot 64 and Toba Tek Singh 61.

Data released by the Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa Child Protection and Welfare Commission (KPCPWC) shows that hundreds of children across the province were affected by a wide range of protection concerns. The commission recorded 402 cases involving 33 different forms of abuse, violence and neglect, including 40 cases of sexual abuse, 40 missing children, 26 children who ran away from home, 17 cases of child labour, 16 incidents of forced begging, 14 cases of corporal punishment, 13 reports of physical torture, seven child murders and two cases involving child pornography.

Breaking the silence

For generations, silence has surrounded conversations about children's safety. Parents avoided difficult questions, families feared social judgement and many children grew up without the words to describe when something felt wrong. In a country where abuse cases continue to emerge, silence can itself become dangerous.

Shagufta once believed discussions about personal safety and private body parts were meant for older children. That belief changed after a steady stream of heartbreaking reports describing young children who had been sexually abused, assaulted or murdered.

"I used to think children were too young to understand these things," she says. "But every time I saw another story on television about a five- or six-year-old child being abused, I realised predators do not wait for children to grow up. They target innocence."

Like thousands of parents across Pakistan, Shagufta has reached a difficult conclusion: teaching children about body safety is no longer optional. It is becoming as essential as teaching them how to cross a busy road, avoid strangers or call for help in an emergency.

One major misconception is the confusion between "sex education" and "body safety education". While the former can trigger cultural resistance, the latter focuses on giving children the knowledge and confidence to recognise unsafe situations and seek help.

Body safety education teaches children that their bodies belong to them, explains private body parts and personal boundaries, and encourages them to identify trusted adults. Experts say these basic lessons can help children recognise inappropriate behaviour and speak up.

Yet such conversations remain difficult in many Pakistani households. Parents may fear they conflict with cultural or religious values, while others simply do not know where to begin because they were never taught these concepts themselves.

Child rights activist Imran Takkar believes this lack of awareness continues to expose children to unnecessary risks.

"Most reported victims are between five and 10 years of age," he says. "Children at this age often cannot understand abusive behaviour or explain what has happened to them. This makes them particularly vulnerable."

Takkar says Pakistan has made encouraging progress over the past decade.

"There was a time when families preferred to hide such incidents because of social stigma. Today more parents are speaking out, more cases are being reported and awareness has increased. While the rising number of reported cases is alarming, it also shows that more survivors and families are finding the courage to seek justice."

However, he warns that society must move beyond reacting after a tragedy.

"Our focus must shift from responding to abuse to preventing it. That means educating children before they become victims, supporting parents and training teachers to recognise warning signs."

Takkar says Pakistan has child protection laws in every province, but implementation remains inconsistent. He calls for coordinated action involving government departments, schools, police, healthcare professionals, religious scholars, media and local communities, while awareness campaigns should respect cultural and religious values.

Religious scholar Mufti Adnan Khan believed protecting children's dignity, privacy and safety is entirely consistent with Islamic teachings. Teaching children to protect themselves from harm, he says, should not be confused with promoting inappropriate behaviour; safeguarding children is a moral and religious obligation.

When protection falls short

Pakistan has introduced child protection laws and institutions, yet experts say the gap between legislation and implementation continues to leave vulnerable children without adequate protection.

Education specialist Dr Basharat Hussain, Chairman of the Department of Criminology at the University of Peshawar, says schools must play a greater role.

"Our curriculum teaches mathematics, science and languages, but it does not adequately teach children how to protect themselves," he says. "Body safety education should become part of age-appropriate learning in schools."

He says such lessons can respect Pakistan's social, cultural and religious sensitivities.

"People often assume that body safety education means discussing explicit sexual matters. That is simply not true. Young children only need to understand that some parts of their bodies are private, that nobody has the right to violate their personal boundaries and that they should immediately tell a trusted adult if something makes them uncomfortable."

Dr Hussain also believes parents need practical guidance.

"Children should be encouraged to communicate openly instead of being taught blind obedience. When a child believes adults must always be obeyed, they may remain silent even after abuse."

Advocate Mehwish Mohib Kakakhel believes Pakistan's greatest weakness lies not in legislation but enforcement.

"The real challenge is not the absence of legislation but the poor enforcement of existing laws," she says. "In many cases, influential individuals exploit weaknesses in the system, while poor investigations prevent victims from obtaining justice."

For many families, seeking justice is lengthy, expensive and emotionally exhausting. Low-income families may struggle to afford lawyers and repeated court appearances, while community pressure can force them to withdraw FIRs or accept settlements.

"In several cases, victims' families are pressured into withdrawing cases because they simply cannot continue the legal fight," Kakakhel explains. "Unless investigations are professional, transparent and free from outside influence, many offenders will continue to escape accountability."

She calls for stronger police investigations, better prosecution and speedy trials.

Ijaz Khan, Additional Director of the Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa Child Protection and Welfare Commission, says many children fail to recognise abuse because they have never been taught their basic rights or personal boundaries.

"Many victims simply do not understand that what happened to them was wrong. If children are never taught about personal safety, they often cannot identify abuse or know whom to tell."

The commission has established child protection centres in Peshawar, Mardan, Charsadda, Swabi, Abbottabad, Kohat, Bannu, Buner, Swat, Upper Dir and Chitral, with additional centres planned in Nowshera, Malakand, Shangla, Mansehra and Dera Ismail Khan.

The centres provide temporary shelter, legal assistance, counselling, psychological support and referrals. However, specialists say the network remains insufficient for a province with millions of children, particularly in remote areas where trained psychologists, social workers and child protection officers remain scarce.

Beyond the crime

Sexual abuse can leave lasting psychological scars. Children may develop anxiety, depression, fear, shame, guilt, low self-esteem, sleep problems and difficulty trusting others. Some may also experience behavioural or academic changes.

Dr Hazik Ali, consultant psychiatrist at Lady Reading Hospital Peshawar, told The Express Tribune that age-appropriate sex education helps children understand body boundaries, private body parts, safe and unsafe behaviour, consent and how to seek help.

"Children should know they have the right to say "No", move away and tell a trusted adult. Such education can also reduce vulnerability to grooming by helping children identify secrecy, manipulation, inappropriate requests and boundary violations," noted Dr Ali.

However, Dr Ali stressed that preventing abuse remains the responsibility of adults and education alone cannot guarantee a child's safety.

He recommends that parents and teachers discuss these issues calmly and in age-appropriate language. Children should understand the difference between safe, appropriate contact and behaviour that violates boundaries, and be reassured that they are never to blame for abuse or punished for speaking up.

Shah Nawaz Khan, a lecturer at Islamia College Peshawar, says teachers are often among the first adults outside the family to notice changes in a child's behaviour.

"Unexplained fear, declining academic performance, aggression, withdrawal or reluctance to attend school can all signal that something is wrong."

Yet teachers receive little training on recognising warning signs or responding when a child discloses abuse.

"Every school should establish child protection policies, train teachers regularly and create confidential reporting mechanisms where children feel safe seeking help."

He says schools can incorporate age-appropriate lessons about personal boundaries, trusted adults, unsafe situations and emergency reporting into existing life-skills education.

An official of the Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa Education Department, speaking on condition of anonymity, says the department has incorporated age-appropriate lessons on good touch and bad touch into the school curriculum and trained teachers to deliver them.

"Our primary objective is to ensure that children are aware of personal safety from an early age and are able to recognise inappropriate behaviour," the official says. "By educating students about good touch and bad touch, we aim to protect them from abuse and help them develop the confidence to report any uncomfortable or unsafe situations."

The official says progress has been made but more comprehensive child-protection and personal-safety lessons, teacher training and public awareness are needed.

While Pakistan has strengthened child protection laws and awareness has improved, experts agree that legislation alone cannot keep children safe.

Until families feel empowered to have open conversations, schools make body safety education routine, institutions enforce existing laws and survivors receive timely psychological and legal support, child sexual abuse will continue to expose the gap between protection on paper and protection in practice.

Safeguarding children begins not after abuse occurs, but by giving every child the knowledge, confidence and trusted support needed to speak before silence becomes tragedy.