In the heart of Pakistan, a mother’s world has been shattered by the forceful conversion of her 17-year-old son, Samsoon Javed, to Islam. Samina Javed, a struggling brick kiln worker, speaks through her tears, recounting the nightmare that unfolded when her son was taken from her, not just physically but spiritually, by his employers—Muslim owners of the gas company where he worked.
For Samsoon, the weight of loss began not with his conversion, but long before, when his father died in 2018. Left to navigate the hardships of life in Punjab Province, Samsoon found work at a Liquified Petroleum Gas outlet, desperate to support his family. But soon, his mother noticed a heartbreaking change—her once-vibrant son began withdrawing from his loved ones, his silence heavy with secrets.
“We were worried,” Samina said. “He avoided us, barely spoke, and when we asked, he wouldn’t tell us anything.”
The truth came crashing down in September when Samsoon didn’t return home from work. When Samina and her husband, Javed Masih, went to ask about their son, they were met with a devastating revelation. The gas company owner, Umar Manzoor, coldly informed them that Samsoon had converted to Islam and no longer wanted anything to do with his Christian family.
“We were in shock,” Samina cried. “How could this be? We pleaded with him, begging just to see our son, but Umar refused and sent us away.”
Eventually, they managed to see Samsoon—briefly. But it was not the reunion Samina had prayed for. The young boy, eyes downcast and filled with fear, refused to speak about what had happened. He only muttered for them to leave before Umar returned, afraid of what would happen if his captors saw them together.
The agony of a mother watching her child, once full of life, now a shell of fear and submission, is unbearable. Through the whispers of neighbors and friends, Samina learned that her son had been taken to an Islamic spiritual guide, and forced to renounce his Christian faith. Samsoon had been trapped, pressured, and coerced into abandoning the very identity his family cherished.
Now, Samina waits, clinging to hope and faith, but her cries for justice echo into silence. This is not just a story of religious conversion—it’s a tale of a family torn apart by manipulation, fear, and the unbearable grief of a mother who longs to hold her son once more.
Samina Javed is certain of one thing: her son, Samsoon, is trapped. “I have seen the fear in his eyes,” Samina said. “It’s as if he’s being blackmailed or threatened. I know my son. He would never willingly abandon us or his faith. Once he’s free, I’m sure he’ll tell us the truth.”
The impoverished kiln worker’s life, already burdened by poverty, is now consumed with a battle far larger than her means. She and her family are desperately trying to rescue their child, but the road ahead is fraught with danger and isolation. Samsoon’s alleged conversion to Islam has left them alone in a society where local Muslims are unlikely to offer any support.
“We’re in a very difficult situation,” she confesses. “Even if someone dares to stand with us, there’s a real risk that my son will disappear, or worse, be harmed.”
Desperate and running out of options, Samina has turned to church leaders and rights organizations, pleading for help in navigating the legal maze that could lead to her son’s freedom. But even this hope is fragile, as the fear of igniting religious tensions looms over them like a dark cloud.
“We understand how sensitive this issue is,” Samina says. “That’s why we’re asking for our Christian leaders’ support. We cannot do this alone.”
Sadly, Samsoon’s story is a grim reflection of a much broader issue in Pakistan. Forced conversions have left countless Christian and Hindu families devastated, their children stolen from them under the guise of religious transformation. While young girls and women are frequently abducted and coerced into conversions before being forced to marry, the shadow of this practice has now begun to creep over boys and men as well.
“These conversions are rarely out of the free will,” said rights activist Napolean Qayyum, who has seen too many cases like Samsoon’s. “Victims and their families are often threatened with violence, and those responsible face little to no accountability. It’s why this issue keeps growing—there’s no one to stop it.”
For Samina, every passing day feels like a race against time. Her son, trapped, silenced, and terrified, may not have much time left. But she refuses to give up hope, praying that someone, somewhere, will hear their cries and bring her boy back to where he belongs—home.