Daily Times

Child sexual exploitation, the ugly reality no one wants to acknowledge, is deeply ingrained in our society, and it is high time we broke this unholy silence. Pakistan, a nation that prides itself on moral values and family structures, stands conspicuously silent on an issue that wreaks havoc on the lives of its youngest and most vulnerable.

Sexual abuse among children is not an isolated issue – it’s a widespread, systemic failure, one that forces society to confront its hypocrisies. Cases involving immediate family members – the very people meant to protect children – make up a considerable number of these horrifying incidents. According to global studies, up to 80% of child sexual abuse cases involve a family member or trusted adult. Yet Pakistan, in its selective morality, barely scratches the surface of this plague, shrouding it in shame, secrecy, and denial.

While we shout slogans about family honour and protection, the truth is that our society enables this abuse to flourish behind closed doors. When such abuse happens within the family, the victim often endures twice the trauma: once from the abuse itself and once from the imposed silence. Pakistani society operates on a twisted logic that preserving a family’s reputation is somehow more valuable than seeking justice for a young victim. Families hush the victim, tell them to forget, hide them away, or worse, they blame them, as if the fault could ever lie with a child. And society, witnessing all this, simply turns away, as though the stench of this rot can’t reach their doorstep if they ignore it.

In countries where child protection is prioritized, cases are investigated with vigour, and awareness campaigns educate children on recognizing and reporting abuse. But here, discussing this issue openly is still considered taboo, an irony so cruel that it practically writes itself. Pakistan refuses to introduce basic child protection education, citing reasons of morality, modesty, or simply an unwillingness to confront what lies beneath. Meanwhile, children are groomed, abused, and left with lifelong scars, all while society turns its back. In the United States, reports show that one in four girls and one in thirteen boys experience sexual abuse at some point in childhood. UNICEF’s reports suggest that globally, around 120 million girls under 20 years of age have been forced into sexual acts. Our lack of statistics on this issue doesn’t reflect a smaller problem; it reflects our willful ignorance.

For those children who experience sexual abuse, the trauma is incomprehensible. They are often left grappling with nightmares, depression, anxiety, and even post-traumatic stress disorder, scars that no amount of time can truly erase. The psychological damage inflicted on these young souls cannot be overstated. Society, by enforcing silence, amplifies the burden they carry. Victims live with the added weight of knowing they must keep this dark secret, that their pain is inconvenient, that justice is an illusion, a pipe dream no one will help them achieve. It’s a cycle of cruelty in which society not only fails to protect but actively punishes the abused for daring to be hurt.

Why does Pakistan remain silent on this issue? Why is there no urgency to educate children on personal boundaries, on recognizing and reporting inappropriate behaviour? What society chooses not to teach, predators are quick to exploit. Many nations begin education on boundaries as early as kindergarten, incorporating lessons about good touch, bad touch, and personal safety into their curriculums. But in Pakistan, any suggestion of such education is met with backlash, dismissed as inappropriate, and offensive to cultural or religious sensibilities. We claim to protect our children’s innocence, yet what innocence remains when they are left vulnerable, unprepared, and alone against predators?

Pakistan is hardly alone in grappling with child sexual abuse, but our refusal to act is uniquely appalling. The United Kingdom, for instance, has stringent child protection laws, regular safety education, and mechanisms in place that empower children to speak up. Sweden and Norway, which rank among the highest in child safety, focus extensively on education and early intervention. A report by the UK’s National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children (NSPCC) indicates that when children are educated about abuse, cases are reported more often, leading to better prevention. Pakistan’s lack of such initiatives does not indicate fewer incidents but a more deeply rooted denial, one that fosters a culture of unaccountability and ignorance, a nation content to leave its children defenceless while it clings to its outdated sense of propriety.

Pakistani society operates on a twisted logic that preserving a family’s reputation is somehow more valuable than seeking justice.

The reality is that child sexual abuse thrives in societies where silence is imposed, where victims are blamed, and where talking about prevention is discouraged. The trauma does not end with the act; for victims, it extends into every facet of their lives. Studies show that survivors of childhood abuse are at a higher risk of experiencing mental health issues, substance abuse, and even suicide. In Pakistan, we don’t even have comprehensive data on this issue, largely because survivors rarely speak up and the state rarely listens. The lack of documented cases, the absence of resources for victims, and the sheer neglect from authorities demonstrate a cold indifference that can only be described as criminal negligence. What justice is possible when society has already decided to forget?

Even in cases where survivors muster the courage to speak, they often face societal judgment, scepticism, and even outright hostility. We are quick to gossip about scandals, to fuel whispers about impropriety in others, yet when confronted with true horror in our own homes, we silence the victims. It is a sick contradiction – a two-faced society that professes to value honour but dishonours its children. We should be shamed by our hypocrisy. We scream about morality, yet our actions reveal nothing but cowardice and cruelty, a refusal to protect the innocent in favour of protecting our egos.

Internationally, child sexual exploitation is being tackled with stringent laws, awareness campaigns, and open dialogues aimed at eradicating abuse. A UNICEF study suggests that more than a million children are sexually exploited worldwide each year. These numbers are staggering, yet they only scratch the surface, as so many cases remain undocumented. In Pakistan, where do we even begin? The government talks about development, progress, and pride, but there is no pride in a nation that does not protect its young. Despite global progress, we remain anchored to our refusal, a stubborn ignorance that continues to cost innocent lives. Our children are taught to respect adults unquestioningly, yet when these adults betray their trust, we expect them to remain silent, to bear the trauma alone.

The silent suffering of these children is not just an individual tragedy; it is a national failure. Pakistan needs a child protection framework that not only criminalizes abuse but actively educates, empowers, and encourages children to speak out. It is not a matter of shame; it is a matter of survival. Imagine a Pakistan where children could confidently report abuse, where victims weren’t condemned but supported, and where predators faced justice instead of shelter behind closed doors and feigned respectability. In countries that address child exploitation head-on, cases decline because the stigma is shifted from the victim to the perpetrator, the burden of shame no longer crushing those who have already suffered enough.

Our society loves to debate morality, yet it remains blind to its immoral inaction. We speak of family honour, but what honour is there in protecting abusers and silencing victims? In a society where parents fear teaching their children about boundaries, where predators find safety in silence, child sexual abuse will continue to thrive. This is not a comfortable truth, but it is our truth. And until we face it, we are complicit in every act of abuse, every stolen childhood, every broken life. The onus is on us to change, to challenge, and to protect. Anything less is a betrayal of the very values we claim to uphold.

The children of Pakistan deserve better than this two-faced society. They deserve a future where their rights are defended, where their voices are heard, and where their innocence is not a currency society is willing to sacrifice for the sake of reputation. We owe it to them to create a Pakistan where they are protected not by silence but by an unwavering commitment to justice. The world has shown that change is possible, but it requires a society brave enough to confront itself. Are we that society? Or will we continue to turn away, to hush, to bury, while our children pay the price? Our response to this issue defines us as a nation. Let it be one of courage, not cowardice, of action, not apathy. It’s time we made a choice.

The writer is a journalist, TV presenter & column writer. She can be reached via her insta account @farihaspeaks