In the quiet early hours of last Wednesday, a tragedy struck the heart of a family and a community in Lahore. Marshall Masih, affectionately known as Bunty, was brutally gunned down by his Muslim neighbors. The 29-year-old father of four had been the sole breadwinner for his elderly parents, his wife, and his children, the eldest just ten years old and the youngest only 18 months.
The sorrowful recounting of that fateful morning by his sister, Goshi Yaqoob, paints a picture of horror and loss. At 4:25 a.m., while the family slept, four armed men, led by Muhammad Shani and Azam Ali, infiltrated their home by cutting through the iron grill and descending from the rooftop. They broke into Masih’s bedroom, holding him and his family at gunpoint before mercilessly riddling his body with 16 bullets in front of his terrified wife and children.
Goshi, who was at her parents’ house nearby, was jolted awake by the terrifying sounds of gunfire and the heart-wrenching screams of her sister-in-law and the children. Rushing over, she was confronted with a scene of unspeakable grief: her brother’s lifeless, blood-soaked body on the floor, his wife and children huddled in a corner, their cries piercing the air.
Neighbors, roused by the commotion, came to their aid, helping to rush the critically injured Masih to the hospital. Despite their desperate efforts, he succumbed to his injuries. The shockwave of his death reverberated through the community, leaving a void that seemed impossible to fill.
Masih’s murder was not a random act of violence but a cold-blooded execution rooted in religious intolerance. Just two and a half months earlier, Masih had filed a police complaint against Shani after numerous attempts to dissuade him from harassing Christian women and engaging in dangerous aerial firing. Although the police briefly arrested Shani and confiscated illegal weapons, he was released the next day, and Masih was pressured to drop the matter.
“The Muslims were offended that a Christian had taken a stand against their criminal activities, and by killing him in cold blood, they have shown that our lives do not matter,” Goshi lamented, her voice breaking with emotion. The injustice has only deepened as, despite a protest outside the office of the Punjab Province chief minister, no arrests have been made.
The family’s future now hangs in the balance. Masih’s father, a retired sanitation worker, recently underwent heart surgery at the age of 75. With Masih gone, they are left to grapple with financial insecurity and the daunting prospect of supporting his young widow and four children. “Our entire world has crumbled after this incident,” Goshi said.
She made a heartfelt plea for help from the provincial government and the broader Christian community. “We are in dire need of help. My father’s meager pension cannot support the family, especially the education and well-being of the children, as well as the legal battle to bring the killers to justice,” she implored. “I appeal to the government to give education scholarships to the children and urge my fellow Christians to help us in whatever way possible so that we can get justice from the courts.”
Masih’s legacy, as remembered by his sister, is one of hard work, devotion, and faith. He ran a small grocery store out of his home and was well-regarded among the 20 Christian families in the area. “He was a God-fearing Catholic who worked very hard to provide a livelihood for our parents, both of whom are heart patients, and his family,” Goshi shared, the pain of losing her only brother palpable in her words.
As the community mourns the loss of a beloved member, they also stand united in their demand for justice. The brutal murder of Marshall Masih is a stark reminder of the perilous conditions faced by religious minorities, and his family’s cries for help echo through the silence left in his wake.