Pakistani society is currently facing a silent yet deeply troubling crisis: the rising number of divorces and khula cases. On the surface, these appear to be personal decisions between two individuals, but in reality, they signal a broader failure of our social and family structures. The growing number of cases in family courts, the worried faces of parents, and the steady collapse of households all point to a painful truth: we know how to create relationships, but we shy away from the collective responsibility of sustaining them.
This crisis is no longer limited to major cities like Karachi and Lahore. Even Islamabad, often seen as a symbol of education, awareness, and refined living, is witnessing a sharp rise in divorce and khula cases. Hundreds of such cases are filed in the capital’s family courts each year, shattering the illusion that marital breakdown is confined to the uneducated or economically disadvantaged. The problem cuts across class, income, and education.
We often begin the conversation from the wrong place. We ask women why they sought khula and men why they gave divorce, but we rarely ask the more important question: who made marriage so fragile? The reality is that marriage has been reduced from a serious social contract to an emotional experiment, where expectations are unrealistically high and tolerance is dangerously low.
Our upbringing plays a central role. Sons are often raised with entitlement, comfort, and unchecked ego. They are rarely taught that being a husband requires emotional maturity, responsibility, decision-making, and conflict management, not just financial provision. Daughters, on the other hand, are raised on lessons of patience, silence, and sacrifice, and then pushed into marriages where their voices are often labeled as complaints or disrespect. When imbalance is built in from the start, the weight of marriage becomes unbearable within months.
Another critical but frequently ignored factor is the role of in-laws. Constant interference, unconditional defense of the son, blaming the daughter-in-law, emotional pressure, financial control, and phrases like “you came into our house” are normalized behaviors within households. Over time, these attitudes transform into legal disputes. In our culture, building a son’s home is not considered a duty, but “correcting” the daughter-in-law is treated as a social responsibility.
Perhaps the most painful aspect of this crisis is the silence of elders. Those who once acted as mediators and guides now step back, calling it a “personal matter.” This phrase may sound civilized, but in reality, it is an escape from responsibility. When a relationship is at a breaking point, when egos clash and misunderstandings deepen, silence is not wisdom; it is a costly mistake.
It is also true that today’s women are no longer willing to live as silent sufferers. Education, awareness, and legal knowledge have given them the courage to speak up, and this is a positive change. The real question is whether men have been mentally prepared for this shift. Have we taught our sons that marriage is about equality, dialogue, and shared responsibility rather than authority and entitlement?
The greatest victims of broken marriages are children, yet their suffering rarely features in our collective priorities. Custody battles, emotional trauma, psychological insecurity, and instability become the inheritance of the next generation, simply because adults failed to act responsibly at the right time.
Blaming modern times is easy, but the truth is that we allowed relationships to weaken. Until we take premarital mental preparation, marital counseling, balanced family roles, and accountability of in-law behavior seriously, family courts from Islamabad to Karachi will continue to overflow. Divorce and khula are not trends or fashions; they are cries of pain from a society that knows how to form relationships but has never learned how to nurture them.
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