There’s something deeply broken in any idea of honour that can be washed clean with blood Because honour in its real sense should mean dignity integrity humanity not control not possession not punishment And yet in many places including Pakistan the word has been bent into something unrecognisable It has been tied to bodies mostly female bodies as if a human being could become a container for someone else’s reputation
A girl is born and before she even understands language she is already assigned a role in someone’s idea of family honour She grows up hearing invisible rules how to sit how to speak how to dress how to exist without causing shame And if she dares to step outside those invisible lines if she chooses someone she loves if she refuses a marriage if she dreams differently suddenly she is not a person anymore She becomes a problem
But who decided that love is a crime
Who decided that a girls heart belongs to everyone except herself
It is strange how society talks about honour as if it is fragile glass sitting inside a girls chest as if one decision she makes can shatter generations of ego But if honour is so easily broken was it ever real Or was it just control disguised as tradition
A human being choosing their own partner is not betrayal It is not rebellion against family It is not an insult to culture It is simply life happening the most basic human experience of connection and choice And yet in some homes that choice becomes dangerous Not because it harms anyone but because it refuses to obey
And this is where the contradiction becomes unbearable
Because the same society that demands honour from women often stays silent when men commit real harm Violence exploitation harassment these are often ignored excused or buried But a girl loving someone becomes the headline of shame A girl running away from fear becomes dishonour A girl saying no becomes criminal
Why is a mans freedom seen as natural but a womans freedom seen as destruction
Why is control called protection when it is done to her but freedom called danger when she chooses it herself
The most painful part is not just the violence itself it is the belief behind it The belief that a girls life is not her own That she is a symbol A reputation A thing that can be lost saved or destroyed depending on her actions
But a human is not a symbol
A human is not a familys certificate
A human is not a reputation walking around in skin
She is a mind She is emotions She is fear and hope and curiosity and dreams that do not always fit inside walls built by someone else
And when those dreams are crushed in the name of honour what is really being protected
Not dignity
Not morality
Not religion in its truest sense
Only ego Only control Only the fear of being questioned by society
And society that silent audience is often the most powerful force of all Because it rewards obedience and punishes difference It whispers approval when someone keeps control and stays quiet when someone loses their life That silence becomes permission That permission becomes repetition And the cycle continues
But a question always remains underneath all of this impossible to erase
If honour requires a death is it honour at all
Or is it just fear wearing a respectable name
A girl who loves who speaks who chooses who refuses to shrink herself she is not a threat to honour She is a reminder that control is not love That silence is not respect That obedience is not virtue
And maybe the real dishonour is not in a girl choosing her life
Maybe it is in a society that believes it has the right to end it
Hiba Sohail Mir