"Mother's Plea: Listen to Heer's Story"

Sakrand's Tragedy: When Will We Protect Our Children?

The subcontinent trembles — not from natural disasters, but from failures to protect its most vulnerable. Once again, a child's life is lost, and we are left asking: when will we finally act?

On a seemingly ordinary day in Sakrand, seven-year-old Heer, daughter of Lalo Bagarhi, disappeared from Station Road in the Bagarhi neighborhood. What began as frantic hours of searching by her family and local community ended in unspeakable horror. Late that night, around 11 PM, Station House Officer Ali Akbar Channa discovered the child's mutilated body in an under-construction site. According to medical reports, both her ears and one arm had been severed—a level of brutality that defies comprehension.

The case now sits in the investigative phase, with SHO Channa assuring the media that authorities "will reach the perpetrators, God willing." But such assurances ring hollow when we examine the pattern of violence against children in Sindh and across Pakistan. Heer's murder is not an isolated incident—it is the latest in a devastating continuum of failures to protect our most vulnerable citizens.

"Mother's Plea: click to Listen to Heer's Story"

Sindh's Recurring Nightmare

Heer's case tragically echoes another horror from Sindh. In August 2021, seven-year-old Priya Kumari disappeared while serving sherbet to a Muharram procession near her home in Sangrar. Despite years of protests by her grief-stricken parents and civil society, despite Joint Investigation Teams and government assurances, Priya remains missing. Her case exposed the systematic vulnerabilities faced by minority children in the province and the state's failure to protect them.

While the circumstances differ—Heer murdered, Priya still missing—both cases reveal the same underlying crisis: children in Sindh, particularly girls from vulnerable communities, face dangers that our institutions consistently fail to address. These are not merely individual crimes but symptoms of institutional rot. When seven-year-olds can vanish or be murdered in public spaces without swift resolution, we must acknowledge that we have created the conditions for such atrocities to occur.

The Infrastructure of Danger

Walk through Sakrand, or indeed most Pakistani towns, and you will find under-construction sites abandoned for months, unguarded and unmonitored. These spaces become deadly traps. Heer's body was found in exactly such a location—a site that should have been secured but instead became a crime scene.

Beyond physical infrastructure, we lack the systems that might prevent such tragedies. Station Road, where Heer was last seen, reportedly has inadequate street lighting and no surveillance cameras. There is no robust community policing, no child safety protocols, no immediate response system when a child goes missing. We have essentially left our children unprotected in public spaces, then express shock when predators exploit these vulnerabilities.

Police and Legal System: Broken Links

While SHO Channa's personal involvement in the search deserves acknowledgement, we must ask harder questions. Why did it take hours to find a child in a relatively small area? Does Sakrand police have protocols for missing children cases? Was the Zainab Alert, Response and Recovery Act of 2020—specifically designed for such situations—properly activated?

Pakistan's police forces lack specialized training for crimes against children. Investigation techniques, forensic capabilities, and coordination mechanisms that are standard elsewhere remain inadequate here. Even when perpetrators are caught, our legal system often fails to deliver timely justice. Cases languish in courts for years. Evidence is compromised. Witnesses disappear.

The Priya Kumari case exemplifies this dysfunction. Despite years of investigation, protests, and government assurances, a seven-year-old girl remains missing with no resolution in sight. When the system fails so consistently, it emboldens criminals and devastates families.

The Silence That Kills

We must also confront uncomfortable truths about community complicity. Child predators rarely operate in complete isolation. They are often known to neighborhoods, their suspicious behavior noticed but unreported. Our culture of silence—prioritizing family honor over child safety, dismissing complaints to avoid "scandal"—provides cover for abusers.

In cases involving minority children like Priya Kumari, this silence is compounded by power imbalances and communal tensions. Families feel helpless against influential perpetrators, and complaints are often dismissed or ignored by authorities more concerned with avoiding controversy than delivering justice.

We teach children to respect elders unconditionally but fail to educate them about bodily autonomy and the right to refuse unwanted attention. We need community-level interventions that break this code of silence: accessible reporting mechanisms, awareness campaigns, and most importantly, assurance that complaints will be taken seriously.

A National Disgrace

Pakistan lacks a comprehensive child protection system. While bodies like the Child Protection and Welfare Bureau exist in some provinces, their reach remains limited. There is no national database of child offenders, no centralized missing children registry, minimal coordination between provincial agencies.

Schools operate without basic safety protocols. Religious institutions function with virtually no oversight. Background checks for those working with children are rare. The result is a country where children are systematically vulnerable, and families have nowhere to turn for protection.

The Path Forward

Heer's murder and Priya Kumari's ordeal should catalyze immediate action:

Immediate Steps: Fast-track Heer's investigation with specialized forensic teams. Conduct safety audits of all under-construction sites, mandating proper security. Install surveillance systems and improve lighting in vulnerable areas. Ensure the Zainab Alert system functions effectively across Sindh.

Institutional Reforms: Establish specialized police units for crimes against children in every district. Create fast-track courts exclusively for cases involving minors. Develop a national sex offender registry. Mandate background checks for anyone working with children. Strengthen protection mechanisms for minority children, ensuring cases like Priya Kumari's receive urgent attention and resources.

Community Engagement: Launch widespread awareness campaigns about child safety. Establish confidential reporting mechanisms for suspected abuse. Partner with schools, religious institutions, and community organizations for safety education. Create support systems for affected families.

Legislative Action: Ensure rigorous implementation of the Zainab Alert Act with accountability for non-compliance. Strengthen penalties for crimes against children. Enhance investigation protocols for missing children cases, particularly those involving minority communities.

Beyond Grief

As Heer is buried and her family grapples with unimaginable loss, we must recognize that their tragedy is Pakistan's shame. We have failed Heer, Priya Kumari, Zainab, and countless others whose names never make headlines.

Each child's suffering should haunt us as a policy failure, an institutional breakdown, and a moral catastrophe. We cannot bring Heer back, but we can honor her memory by finally, decisively, acting to protect other children.

This requires political will that transcends party lines, resource allocation that reflects stated priorities, and a cultural shift that places child safety at our national core. The question is not whether we can afford these reforms—it is how many more children we are willing to sacrifice before we find the courage to change.

Sumair Ahmed Mahar is an intermediate student living in Sakrand, concerned with child protection and social reform.