By Sardar Khan Niazi

Every so often, a brutal headline pierces the numbed conscience of a nation: “Child trampled to death by employer,” “Girl burnt for spilling tea,” “Minor maid falls from balcony under suspicious circumstances.” These are not anomalies; they are symptoms of a deep, systemic rot. Behind each of these headlines are names we will never remember, lives extinguished before they truly began — Pakistan’s compressed, scorched, and collapsed children. It is easy, and I do not know comforting, to label these as isolated tragedies, acts of individual cruelty. However, that would be a lie. These children are not victims of mere cruelty — they are victims of a society that has normalized their suffering, dehumanized their labor, and abandoned its most sacred duty: to protect the vulnerable. Child domestic labor remains an unregulated, widely accepted reality in Pakistan. According to estimates by the International Labor Organization, over 3.3 million children are trapped in various forms of child labor in the country, many of them in homes where they remain unseen and unheard. Hidden behind walls and gates, these children cook our meals, sweep our floors, and rock our babies to sleep. In return, they are offered neither education nor safety — often not even basic dignity. Last year’s case of Rizwana — a 14-year-old girl tortured by her employer, a senior government officer’s wife — should have been a watershed moment. Her frail, broken body symbolized everything wrong with how we treat our domestic workers. Yet, little has changed. Public outrage flares briefly, social media hashtags trend for a day or two, and then we move on. The perpetrators rarely face serious consequences. The cycle resets. The language we use to describe these children also reveals our complicity. “Maid,” “servant,” “chhotu” — terms that strip them of identity and childhood. We forget they are children first, entitled to the same rights and protections as any other. That a child as young as eight can be “employed” should horrify us. Instead, we rationalize: “They’re poor, they need the work.” As if, poverty justifies violence. As if hunger cancels out humanity. The state, too, bears responsibility. Although the Constitution prohibits forced labor and promotes free, compulsory education, enforcement remains dismal. The 2020 Domestic Workers Act, meant to protect workers’ rights in Islamabad, has seen poor implementation. Sindh and Punjab have similar laws, but lack proper monitoring mechanisms and child-specific provisions. Meanwhile, the Child Protection Bureaus, often underfunded and overstretched, are more reactive than preventive. And where is the outrage from our religious and political leadership? When blasphemy laws are invoked, mobs appear within hours. But when a child is burnt with a hot iron or thrown off a balcony, silence. No sermons, no marches. Just apathy wrapped in piety. Changing this reality requires more than outrage. It demands structural reform and a cultural reckoning. Domestic child labor must be criminalized nationwide. Every household that employs a minor should face legal consequences. Schools need to expand outreach to vulnerable communities, and protection services must be strengthened and funded adequately. But most importantly, we — as individuals — must reject the social norms that allow this to continue. If you know a family that employs a child, speak up. If you see a child in danger, report it. Silence is complicity. The children who fall, who burn, who are crushed until their bodies give way — they are not nameless. They are not statistics. They are victims of our indifference. Until we choose to see them, hear them, and protect them, we will continue to read the same headlines. Moreover, each one will be a mirror, reflecting the moral collapse of a nation.