KARACHI – As Pakistan mourns 17-year-old Sana Yousaf, the painful truth remains: her murder was not a shocking exception, but another chapter in a long, tragic story of unchecked femicide. Like many women before her, Sana’s life was stolen by male entitlement—this time because she rejected a boy’s so-called friendship.
Social media erupted in grief and anger after the brutal killing. But soon, sympathy gave way to judgment. As always, people began questioning why she was on TikTok, where her parents were, and what she might have done to “invite” the attack. Despite the obvious cruelty of her death, the conversation quickly shifted from justice to moral policing.
This disturbing pattern isn’t new. Time after time—be it the Noor Mukadam, Zainab Ansari, or Qandeel Baloch cases—we express outrage, post heartfelt captions, and demand justice. Yet, behind the tears and hashtags, society often blames the victim and overlooks the real issue: the deep-rooted rot of misogyny and victim-shaming.
The problem spreads beyond social media. Even courtrooms and celebrities often offer passive responses or deflect attention to girls’ behavior rather than confronting male violence. Justice Ali Baqir Najafi recently used Noor’s case to warn against “live-in relationships,” ignoring the brutality she faced. This shift in narrative silently excuses the crime and blames the victim.
Moreover, this mindset seeps into homes. Family conversations often suggest that girls must stay quiet, cover up, or stay indoors to remain safe. While such remarks are presented as concern, they subtly imply that the victim was somehow responsible, which only deepens the harm.
In truth, Pakistan’s grief has become performative. We light candles, share tributes, and then forget—until the next name trends. But mourning without action achieves nothing. The culture that killed Sana has always been here—loud, visible, and unchallenged. And until that changes, grief will never be enough.