Exhibit A. Drawing room.
Some time between 8pm and 11pm, a father is dying. The family has gathered around him to settle what he is about to leave behind. The lawyer remains unreliable, and the sons keep talking about the house. The daughters, on the contrary, are gentle and decide whether they want to take the share in cash or give it to their brothers. Since the daughters are already married off, they have to waive their share. As time passes, the pressure increases, and by the end of the night, papers have been signed, and an agreement has been reached.
This scene is repeated in various drawing rooms across Pakistan, which is quite ironic for a country whose laws are influenced by Islamic Sharia Law.
It’s worth stating that the law isn’t the problem. Islam gives daughters a fully defined, non-negotiable share. It’s not a gift; it’s what she is entitled to. By law, daughters receive half of what their brothers inherit. A woman is entitled to her share as soon as the parent dies. The Muslim Family Laws Ordinance, the Punjab Land Revenue Act’s protections against forced transfers, and the 2021 amendments clearly criminalise coercion in the transfer of inheritance by force. These laws have existed for decades; they are just not acted upon. It’s a simple matter, made so complicated, that if a woman insists on getting her share, she sets the family dynamics on fire.
The Social Cost
As expected, Pakistani households have hidden codes for when a daughter demands what is rightfully hers. “She gifted it to her brother”, “she has no need for it”, “her husband is well-settled”, “she is a good daughter”; none of this comes across as language of loss, but rather a title for her ability to keep family united and in harmony. She is also guilt-tripped: “what will the neighbours think”, “your brother is the family you have left”, “that’s what a good daughter is supposed to do”, “don’t go against your own blood”.
All of this comes with a cost: estrangement.
It can be called another form of dowry, disguised as a sophisticated claim. A misogynistic claim that family inheritance is for males.
The pressure to give in intensifies sharply if land is included. Cash can easily be divided and handed over. Land, on the other hand, requires giving a woman, or her husband, a permanent, generational stake in land. In rural Pakistan, women cannot assert dominance or claim family land. It can easily go south for women, as often they are ostracised; even worse, violence takes place.
Family’s Honour
In rural areas, a narrative that gets pushed around a lot is family honour. There are many documented cases in which the woman didn’t commit anything scandalous; she asked for what was owed to her. While in urban areas, the same thing is done, but with elegance. She will get drafted, power of attorney is signed, her share is said to be reserved, while in reality it’s just inaccessible.
Why this keeps working
The system thrives when enforcers ensure that the emotional and financial costs of pursuing justice outweigh the actual value of her inheritance. Another reason is that women often uphold this system. Mothers raise their daughters to give up shares; sisters-in-law keep a close eye on the agreement. It’s an example of patriarchal norms thriving under the legal system.
Is there any hope left?
Change wouldn’t come from appeals or movements. There is a need to remove the negotiations.
Removing every mechanism that involves negotiation or blind trust in the system, hoping that one day her claims will be heard. When a woman stops depending on negotiations and starts demanding, she will receive it.