A young bride from Gujranwala has become the latest victim of a cruel and deep-rooted custom. She was allegedly killed by her in-laws because her dowry did not meet their expectations. Tensions had been simmering since her marriage. Arguments turned into violence. She was taken to the hospital in critical condition, but could not survive. Another woman is gone. Another family shattered.
And the question remains: how many more?
The dowry system in Pakistan continues to destroy lives. Though it is legally restricted and religiously discouraged, the practice remains firmly entrenched across the country—rural and urban alike, among the poor and the wealthy. What was once meant as a gesture of goodwill has turned into a transaction that puts a price tag on women and their marriages.
Families across Pakistan still struggle to meet these unreasonable demands. Parents sell land, take loans, and deplete their life savings just to see their daughters married. But even then, peace is not guaranteed. If the in-laws are dissatisfied, the bride often pays the price. The abuse begins with taunts and emotional blackmail, and in too many cases, ends in physical violence and death.
There are countless examples. In 2015, Shabana from Sadhan village was electrocuted by her husband for “not bringing enough dowry.” Shakeela, 18, from Kehna, was strangled by her in-laws. In June this year, a woman in Sahiwal was set on fire by her husband’s family over a dowry dispute worth Rs 2.2 million. These are not tales from another time—they are happening today, in homes we call respectable.
What makes the problem worse is the silence that surrounds it. Victims often stay quiet out of fear or shame. Families avoid pursuing justice to protect their “honour.” And when a woman dares to speak, the law rarely comes to her aid.
Pakistan does have laws to limit dowry. The Dowry and Bridal Gifts (Restriction) Act of 1976 sets a limit of Rs 5,000 for dowry and Rs 2,500 for wedding costs. But the law exists only on paper. No one enforces it. IIn 2017, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa tried to make some rules stricter by introducing a new law, which came after a decision made in 2010. But so far, there hasn’t been much change.
This isn’t just a legal problem—it’s also a cultural one.
The dowry system makes it seem like daughters are a problem, that their worth is only about things they own. It makes it harder for people to get married, limits what women can do, and puts them at risk of abuse all their lives. It tells every girl that her value isn’t in her learning or who she is, but in what she brings to her husband’s family.
To stop this unfair situation, just having laws isn’t enough.
Those in power need to make sure the rules are followed seriously. Police and judges should treat dowry-related violence as a big deal. Religious leaders should also explain that Islam supports simple weddings, not expensive ones. Schools, community leaders, and the media must challenge this mindset. And as a society, we must start honouring families that reject dowry, not those that demand it.
Dowry is not a tradition. It is exploitation dressed as culture. It takes lives, erodes dignity, and deepens inequality.
It must end—now.