In the quiet village of Gulzar Qureshi, Mirpurkhas, a dark cloud descended on the life of a young girl, Kajol Meghwar, on the night of December 29/30, 2024. Barely 15 years old, Kajol—a bright tenth-grade student at Kot Ghulam Mohammad—was forcibly taken from the comfort of her home and thrust into a harrowing nightmare.
Born on March 15, 2009, Kajol’s life had been simple, defined by school, family, and dreams that every young girl nurtures. But her abduction shattered those dreams, dragging her into an unimaginable ordeal. She was forcibly converted to Islam at the Pir Sarhandi shrine and married off to a much older man named Puhno, robbing her of her childhood and her agency.
Her father, Daya Raam, a respected leader of the Hari Committee, said “My daughter was abducted against her will.” His grief was palpable, his heartbreak a reflection of a family left to grapple with injustice.
The saga took a distressing turn on January 8, 2025, when Kajol was presented in court. Shockingly, she claimed she did not recognize her parents—a statement that left the judge and courtroom observers in disbelief. The air in the room grew heavy with emotion, as her words seemed forced, a tragic echo of a girl too scared to speak her truth.
Iqbal Mughal, another leader of the Hari Committee, described Kajol’s demeanor in court. “She appeared frightened as if the weight of invisible chains held her back,” he shared. A family friend, Damero Mal Meghwar, was also present. He recounted a moment that spoke volumes about Kajol’s reality—an anguished whisper to her sister. “I cannot come with you. They are waiting outside, and they will harm our family,” she confided, revealing the suffocating fear that controlled her actions.
This heart-wrenching tale raises troubling questions about the societal and systemic barriers Kajol’s family faces. Meghwar disclosed that the family delayed filing a First Information Report (FIR) because they were given false promises that Kajol would be returned through traditional negotiations. But those promises were broken, and instead, the abductors brought her to court to solidify their actions.
Adding to the family’s despair is the glaring inadequacy of the Sindh Child Restraint Marriage Act, which, according to Meghwar, fails to protect young Hindu girls like Kajol from abduction and forced conversions. These legal gaps leave victims and their families vulnerable, trapped in a cycle of helplessness.
Yet, amid the anguish, Kajol’s family stands resolute. Despite cultural, legal, and societal pressures, they are determined to fight for justice—to bring their daughter home and to demand a system that safeguards other girls from the same fate.
Kajol’s story is not just her own. It is the story of countless girls whose voices are stifled, whose fears go unheard, and whose futures are stolen in plain sight. It is a call for action, a plea for empathy, and a demand for change.
To the world, Kajol Meghwar may be one among many, but to her family, she is everything. And for her, they will not stop. For Kajol, they will continue to fight, hoping that justice will one day prevail and that no other family will have to endure the agony they are living through now.