Because they can

What enables a man to walk into the abyss of taking the life of a living, breathing individual — and call it victory? Revenge? Honour? Ego?

Let me not beat around the bush and come straight to the point: what made a 22-year-old man named Umer kill a 17-year-old girl just because she said no to his proposal? Let's call this what it is — murder, fuelled by entitlement and enabled by a system that rewards silence and punishes resistance.

We've seen this pattern before. We saw it when Noor Mukaddam was held hostage, butchered like an animal, and decapitated by a man who came from privilege and power. It was an open-and-shut case — the evidence was not circumstantial; it was visual, loud, grotesque. CCTV footage. Witnesses. Graphic forensic detail. Zahir Jaffer cut her head off.

And yet, the burden of proof fell on her grieving parents to prove that their daughter was a Muslim, that she went for Hajj, that she was 'good enough' to deserve justice. Why? Because even in death, a woman's character must be dragged through the mud.

In Bakr Jamali, Sindh, a young lecturer and mother of three was murdered by her husband in what was proudly declared an 'honour killing'. Her crime? Being a woman who earned and succeeded. Her reward? A brutal death, and a murderer who admitted it with ease.

In Mandi Bahauddin, over 40 girls were abducted and sexually assaulted in July 2024 alone. Cases filed. Eyewitnesses silenced. Headlines faded. Quratulain's own brother killed her. The parents forgave him under qisas and diyat. The law was satisfied. The sister? Dead.

So what makes them kill? Because they know they can. Because they know there's no consequence, no noose, no societal outrage loud enough to override tribal silence, class privilege, or patriarchal pride. Because in Pakistan and many parts of the world, a woman's no is not heard as a boundary. It's heard as rebellion. And rebellion must be silenced. Swiftly.

Psychologically, this is a power game. From childhood, boys are taught that they are entitled to authority, to submission, to obedience, especially from women. If a boy throws a tantrum, we reward it. If a girl speaks out, we shame it. This is Operant Conditioning — the psychological theory that behaviours are shaped by their consequences.

In our society, violence is rewarded, not punished. A man kills and walks free. Another man watches and learns. "I can do that too". And so the cycle continues. 

The brain's reward centre, when repeatedly told that violence brings power, not prison, starts to enjoy it. That's how sadism takes root when men don't just kill but begin to feel pleasure in the power it brings. You kill once and get away with it. You feel powerful. You do it again. And again. Unless you are stopped, not by hashtags, but by legal consequences.

Speaking of social imprinting, Let's be clear: this is not just a legal failure. This is a societal disease. From police officers to family elders, everyone plays a part. When a woman is killed, society doesn't ask "Why did he kill her?" They ask, "What was she wearing?", "Was she dating him?", "Why was she out so late?".

This power play is ingrained. This is patriarchy in its rawest, darkest form. Even our laws, like Section 302 of the Pakistan Penal Code, say clearly: murder is punishable by death or life imprisonment. So why are trials stretched over years, dragging families through hell just to prove one fact: that their daughter is dead? Have we not seen enough corpses yet?

In a society where religion should be a source of compassion, it is often misused as a tool of control. 

Let's revisit Al-Maidah 5:32: "Whoever kills a soul unless for a soul or for corruption [done] in the land — it is as if he had slain mankind entirely. And whoever saves one — it is as if he had saved mankind entirely."

What is unclear here? Which verse gives men permission to kill women for love? For ego? For revenge? None. And yet, self-declared custodians of honour will twist verses to justify bloodshed. This is not Islam. This is patriarchy wearing religion as a disguise.

Until every Umer, Zahir and Quratulain's brother knows that murder equals punishment, we will keep adding names to the graveyard. We don't need more thoughts and prayers.

We need fast-tracked trials. Implementation of laws correctly. Police training on gender sensitivity. Protection for whistleblowers and families. Raising better sons. Most of all, we need a collective moral awakening that saying 'no' is not a death sentence.

Sana Yousaf didn't die because of love. She died because of entitlement. Because she dared to say no. And the least we can do — the very least — is to not let her death be forgotten in silence.

The writer is a freelance contributor.

Disclaimer: The viewpoints expressed in this piece are the writer's own and don't necessarily reflect Geo.tv's editorial policy.

Originally published in The News