By Sardar Khan Niazi

In Pakistan, child marriage is often defended with familiar words: tradition, culture, protection, honor. But behind these justifications lies a harsher reality — the quiet surrender of a girl’s childhood, education, health, and future. Every year, thousands of girls across South Asia are married before they turn 18. In Pakistan, despite legal reforms and public awareness campaigns, the practice continues in rural districts and urban settlements alike. Poverty, social pressure, weak law enforcement, and gender inequality continue to feed a cycle that many communities have normalized for generations. But normalization does not make injustice acceptable. A child is not prepared for marriage simply because society says she is. A girl who should be in a classroom is instead expected to manage a household, bear children, and navigate adulthood before understanding herself. The emotional and physical consequences are devastating. Early pregnancies increase health risks for both mothers and children, while school dropout rates among married girls remain alarmingly high. What begins as a “family decision” often becomes a lifelong sentence of dependency and limited opportunity. The tragedy is not only personal; it is national. No country can genuinely pursue economic progress while systematically removing millions of girls from education and employment. Pakistan already struggles with literacy gaps, maternal health challenges, and low female workforce participation. Child marriage deepens each of these crises. It ensures that poverty reproduces itself across generations. The contradiction is glaring. Politicians speak of youth empowerment and development while lawmakers hesitate to establish a uniform minimum age for marriage across the country. Religious arguments are repeatedly used to resist reform, despite the fact that Islam places immense emphasis on justice, consent, dignity, and protection from harm. Reducing religion to a shield for harmful customs does a disservice both to faith and to society. Legal reform alone, however, will not solve the problem. Many families marry daughters early because they fear harassment, insecurity, or economic burden. In areas where schools are inaccessible and employment opportunities are scarce; marriage is seen as the safest available option. That perception cannot be changed through punishment alone. The state must invest in girls’ education, community safety, healthcare, and financial support systems that make delaying marriage both possible and practical. At the same time, silence from society must end. Teachers, religious scholars, media organizations, and local leaders all shape public attitudes. When child marriage is treated as a private family matter, accountability disappears. The issue demands the same moral urgency with which society confronts violence or exploitation because that is precisely what it is. There are encouraging signs. Young activists, women-led organizations, and survivors themselves are increasingly speaking out. Some provinces have taken legislative steps. More families now recognize the long-term value of educating daughters. But progress remains fragile when social resistance is stronger than political will. Pakistan must decide what future it wants for its girls. A nation that forces children into adulthood cannot call itself just modern, or compassionate. Childhood should not be negotiated away in the name of custom. It should be protected — firmly, universally, and without compromise.