NCSW Presses Pakistani Police: A New Pulse in the Fight Against Gender-Based Violence

When National Commission on the Status of Women (NCSW) Chairperson Noureen Bano Lehri sat down with senior police officials from across Pakistan, the atmosphere in the meeting room was as heavy as a dressing room after a painful defeat. But this was not a football match; this was the fight against gender-based violence that thousands of Pakistani women face every day. Lehri, with a calm but determined voice, issued a series of clear directives: enhanced patrolling, tighter surveillance, establishment of special courts, and monitoring of educational institutions. This was not just an administrative meeting — it was a signal that the system is trying to find a new pulse for a deeply entrenched problem. The context of this meeting cannot be separated from the names that have become symbols of pain: Hina Javed, Ayat Noor, Asma Jattak, Kulsoom Mohammed Qasim, Aizal, and a nine-year-old girl in Shikarpur. Each name is a case, a fate, a silent accusation against a system that has repeatedly failed to protect them. NCSW, as the human rights watchdog, could no longer stand by. The meeting with police was an effort to turn outrage into concrete action, to move from empty rhetoric to measurable change. At the core of the directives Lehri issued was the improvement of investigation and prosecution processes. Police were asked to increase patrols in high-risk areas, use digital surveillance to track suspects, and coordinate more closely with prosecutors to ensure cases are brought to trial quickly. The establishment of special courts for gender-based violence cases was a key highlight — it acknowledges that the current judicial system is overloaded and slow, forcing victims to wait years, even decades, for justice. This is a structural change, not just a temporary measure. However, the most interesting — and least noticed — aspect was the directive to monitor educational institutions and madaris. This shows that NCSW understands that gender-based violence is not just a police and court issue; it is rooted in social norms taught and reinforced in schools, in religious classrooms, in spaces where children form their understanding of gender. Bringing education into the anti-violence strategy is a bold step, as it touches culturally and religiously sensitive areas. But without changing mindsets at the root, all police efforts are just patching a cracking wall. Based on my experience following matches, I have seen how football teams react under pressure — and government institutions are the same. When a team changes tactics mid-game without changing the dressing room culture, the result is often chaos. Players may run more, contest more fiercely, but if they don't believe in the system, if they don't understand their role in the bigger picture, all efforts are futile. Similarly, NCSW's directives may create a new wave of activity from police, but without a change in each officer's approach — if they still view gender-based violence as a 'family matter' or 'private issue' — then increased patrol numbers are just for show. What many outsiders misunderstand about this meeting is that they think it is just a political move, a way for NCSW to show its presence. But the reality is far more complex. NCSW faces a paradox: they have the authority to make recommendations but no direct enforcement power. They depend on police and the judicial system to turn those recommendations into reality. So this meeting was not just about issuing directives; it was about building trust, creating an alliance between those with different powers. This is a process of internal diplomacy, where patience and tact matter more than rigidity. Another counterintuitive perspective is that focusing on special courts could inadvertently create a two-tier system, where gender-based violence cases are prioritized over other crimes. This could cause resentment within the judicial system, with judges and prosecutors feeling discriminated against. But on the other hand, it also sends a clear message that society values this issue enough to warrant a separate mechanism. In football, we often see teams create specialized units for set pieces — free kicks, corners — and that usually yields better results than letting everything flow generically. Similarly, a specialized court could develop deeper expertise in handling gender-based violence cases, better understanding victim psychology and complex evidence. The biggest issue I see through the lens of someone who has followed many institutional reforms is the lack of independent monitoring mechanisms. Police can report that they have increased patrols, but who will check the quality of those patrols? Who will assess whether cases are actually processed faster or just paperwork moves faster? In football, we have data — xG, pressing numbers, successful pass counts — to evaluate a team's effectiveness. But in governance, data is often vague and easily manipulated. NCSW needs to establish an independent tracking system with clear indicators: number of cases resolved, average time from report to trial, and conviction rates. Without these numbers, every meeting is just promises on paper. Another point I want to emphasize is the role of educational institutions. The directive to monitor schools and madaris is a double-edged sword. On one hand, it can help detect early signs of abuse and intervene timely. On the other hand, it could be seen as an intrusion into the privacy of religious organizations, causing backlash from the community. This requires a nuanced approach, not top-down imposition. In football, we talk about 'reading the game' — knowing when to press high and when to drop deep. Similarly, NCSW needs to read the social context, know when to be firm and when to negotiate. Imposing a rigid policy on a culturally sensitive environment can backfire. From a comparative perspective, I recall how other countries have handled similar issues. In India, after the Nirbhaya case in 2026, the government established fast-track courts to handle rape cases. The results were mixed — some cases were tried faster, but conviction rates remained low due to lack of evidence and pressure on victims' families. In South Africa, which has the highest rate of gender-based violence in the world, Thuthuzela Care Centres were established, combining police, health, and justice under one roof. This model has shown effectiveness in reducing psychological trauma for victims and increasing prosecution rates. Pakistan can learn from these models but must adapt them to local contexts. What worries me most is the lack of sustainability. High-level meetings often create a short-term wave of activity, but then everything returns to the old trajectory when media attention fades. I have seen this in football — a team after a heavy defeat will have intense training sessions, but after a few weeks, they revert to old habits. Real change requires a long-term process, with commitment from multiple parties, not just one meeting. NCSW needs to establish regular meetings, progress reports, and most importantly, an open communication channel with civil society organizations — those working directly with victims and understanding best the gaps in the system. Another aspect I want to address is the role of media. In football, we talk about 'creating pressure' — when media continuously covers an issue, managers are forced to act. Similarly, Pakistani media has an important role in maintaining attention on gender-based violence. But media can also harm if they report sensationally, invade victims' privacy, or create a climate of fear. NCSW can work with journalists to develop sensitive reporting guidelines, ensuring victims' stories are told respectfully and accurately. In the days of empty stadiums, I hear the team's breath clearly – and it still beats. Similarly, in the months after this meeting, I will listen to see whether NCSW's directives truly create a new pulse in Pakistan's police system. There will be reports, numbers, statements — but what I care about is whether women in Shikarpur, in Karachi, in Lahore feel safer. Whether they believe that when they go to a police station, they will be heard, protected, and given justice. A team is not just about victories; it has its own heartbeat, and I am the one recording that rhythm. In this context, NCSW is trying to create a new heartbeat for Pakistan's justice system. But that heartbeat can only survive if all parts — police, courts, schools, media, and above all, the community — beat in unison. This meeting is a start, but a start alone is not enough. It requires persistence, continuous monitoring, and the willingness to admit mistakes and adjust. There are trophies that cannot be lifted, but they still feel heavy in the heart – those are the honors of those who stayed. For Pakistani women who have lost, no trophy can soothe the pain. But for those who are alive, who fight every day, this meeting could be a sign that they are not forgotten. And that, in the fight against gender-based violence, might be the most important thing: the feeling that the system is listening, that their voices do not fall into the void. I will continue to follow this story, not as a sports journalist, but as someone who has learned that every struggle — whether on the pitch or in the meeting room — requires tactics, patience, and above all, the belief that change is possible. NCSW's meeting with Pakistani police is a step on a long road, and I will be here to record every step, every heartbeat, until justice is truly served.