Despite legislative advances like the Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Act, 2018, the reality for most transgender Pakistanis is far removed from legal promises.
From bullet-riddled bodies found on highways to harassment on the streets to rejection by landlords to dismissal at hospitals and police stations, transgender individuals are consistently met with suspicion, ridicule, and bureaucratic apathy. In Khyber Pakhtunkhwa alone, 267 cases of violence against transgender persons were recorded over five years up to 2024, with only one conviction. Presto, the law, though groundbreaking in its framing, has failed to translate into lived justice.
The colonial-era wrongs of criminalising transgender persons under the Criminal Tribes Act of 1871 set the stage for decades of marginalization. In 2011, the Supreme Court recognised the dignity of gender-diverse communities, urged NADRA to drop dehumanising labels and ended invasive medical verification.
This paved the way for the 2018 Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Act, which affirmed self-perceived gender identity. The 2020 Rules introduced the neutral ‘X’ marker, offering administrative recognition. But in 2023, the Federal Shariat Court struck down the principle of self-identification, reinstating medical verification and creating legal confusion. At the same time, victories like the Faiz Ullah vs PPSC, etc ensured the inclusion of a third gender category in public job advertisements. These shifts reveal how tumultuous Pakistan’s legal landscape can be for the transgender community, progress in one arena often clashes with backlash in another, leaving marginalised communities adrift.
Passed with the promise of recognition and dignity, the Act guarantees access to education, employment, health services and public spaces without any discrimination. It affirms the right of transgender individuals to self-identify and be recorded accordingly in state databases. Yet, seven years later, its practical enforcement is riddled with shortcomings and legal ambiguities have rendered key protections ineffective.
A glaring example is the Act’s failure to criminalise harassment against transgender persons; a non-punitive prohibition does not serve as a meaningful deterrent and thus perpetuates an endless cycle of abuse. While the legislation denounces discrimination, it fails to explicitly penalise harassment. Nevertheless, existing laws on harassment and rape in Pakistan have somewhat bridged this gap by extending their scope to include transgender persons – through the 2022 amendment to the Protection Against Harassment of Women at the Workplace Act, 2010, and the Criminal Laws (Amendment) Act, 2021.
Still, certain provisions of the Pakistan Penal Code continue to exclude transgender persons from protection. For instance, Section 509 criminalises sexual harassment but confines its scope to acts committed against ‘women’. Similarly, Sections 354 and 354A penalise assault or the use of criminal force intended to outrage a woman’s modesty or to strip her of her clothes. These legal gaps and ambiguities embolden abusers and deny victims effective recourse, excluding transgender from protection and erasing their suffering from legal recognition. Explicitly including all gender identities in these sections would help ensure that no victim of sexual violence is denied justice for who they are.
Equally troubling is the de facto world, the regressive discourse that has emerged in some political and religious quarters, and fueled further by social media influencers, where protections for transgender persons are being rebranded as ‘Western imports’ or ‘moral threats’. Such rhetoric not only obstructs reform but fans public hostility. Misinterpretations around the law’s clauses – especially regarding self-perceived gender identity – have prompted petitions and misinformation campaigns, dangerously rolling back years of advocacy.
Our policymakers and legislatures must recognise the intersectionality that deepens the marginalisation of transgender persons. A Punjabi, middle-class transgender man faces very different challenges than a working-class Hazara transgender woman. Disability, class, caste and regional inequities layer on further barriers. A meaningful justice framework must account for these overlapping vulnerabilities and not treat the community as a monolith.
The Act also fails to protect transgender persons within their homes. Many are cast out by their families as children, leading to homelessness, begging, or coerced sex work. The Act must be amended to guarantee the right of transgender individuals to reside with their families. Disowning or abandoning a child based on their gender identity should be criminalised, with penalties ensuring that familial rejection is treated as a human rights violation.
Infrastructural exclusion is another blind spot. Transgender individuals are often forced to use male or female restrooms, placing them at risk of harassment or violence. Public spaces – including government offices, transport terminals and educational institutions – must be mandated to provide gender-neutral or third-gender facilities. These aren’t luxuries; they are requirements for safe public participation.
While the Act designates complaint forums like the federal ombudsman, the National Commission for Human Rights (NCHR) and National Commission on the Status of Women (NCSW), these bodies lack explicit transgender mandates or trained staff. This makes access to redress largely performative. A way forward would be the creation of special transgender wings within law-enforcement agencies and the justice system under the joint oversight of the Law and Justice Commission of Pakistan and Supreme Court for effective reporting and handling of their complaints. Sensitized legal forums could fast-track cases and ensure dignity in judicial processes.
A further obstacle is data invisibility. Pakistan’s national statistics machinery does not maintain reliable or disaggregated data on transgender persons. This severely impedes targeted policy development, budget allocation, and service delivery. The Pakistan Bureau of Statistics should be tasked with gender-disaggregated surveys and censuses that account for non-binary and transgender identities, with all the diversity. What is not counted cannot be protected.
Language matters too. Many Pakistani laws still use binary terms, excluding anyone who doesn’t conform. Legislative drafting must adopt inclusive language such as ‘every/any person’ or ‘individual’ to affirm the equal worth of transgender citizens in every statute and policy.
Despite deep institutional gaps, the resilience and leadership of transgender-led organisations remain a vital source of hope. These civil society actors provide essential services, often stepping in where the state falls short. The government must formally acknowledge their role by integrating them into policymaking processes, monitoring mechanisms and public education campaigns.
Pakistan is a signatory to international instruments like the ICCPR, ICESCR and CEDAW, which obligate the state to prevent discrimination and ensure effective remedies. The United Nations’ Universal Periodic Review (UPR) mechanism has consistently emphasised the need for Pakistan to strengthen protections for transgender persons by aligning its national laws with international human rights standards.
Likewise, the Yogyakarta Principles plus 10 (2017) reaffirm the global commitment to safeguarding the dignity and rights of marginalised groups, including transgender individuals. Yet, these commitments largely remain on paper, with little progress toward their practical realisation in law enforcement, policymaking or public life.
The plea for betterment is not for special treatment; it is for basic, equitable recognition of humanity – for the right to rent a home without suspicion, to walk safely on the street, to exist without fear.
Examples like Nayyab Ali, the first Pakistani transgender person and the first transgender woman in UN history to be shortlisted for the role of UN Special Rapporteur, and Heer Alvi, a transgender activist, who extensively mentors transgender individuals toward economic independence, stand as testaments to Pakistan’s potential to lead South Asia by closing these legal and moral gaps not merely in law, but in lived reality.
Furqan Ali is a Peshawar-based researcher who works in the financial sector. He can be reached at: alifurqan647gmail.com
Amna Khan is a practising lawyer and legal researcher. She can be reached at: amnajkhan111gmail.com