At the very heart of every Pakistani wedding lies a sacred agreement, the marriage contract. But for many women, its pages remain unread, its clauses unexplained, and its rights unclaimed. What can be a document of empowerment has, in most cases, turned into a tool of silent erasure, where important columns are left blank, crossed out, or filled without the bride’s awareness. This legal negligence, usually rooted in cultural conservatism, is denying women’s rights that are not merely Islamic but are ordained by Pakistani law.
I recall a lecture during my Master’s studies that opened my eyes to the legal rights granted to women under the marriage contract. Until that point, I had no idea that this document, signed routinely at the time of marriage ceremonies, holds significant provisions like assigning the right to divorce, the right to stipulate conditions, and protection against polygamy. My realization was personal, too. During my own sister’s wedding, I remember how she never even looked at the contract. Like most brides, she had no idea what it said, and more significantly, what had been omitted.
This lack of awareness is accidental. It is systemic.
This month, the Ministry of Law and Justice held a high-level meeting in Islamabad in response to a directive from the Lahore High Court. The objective: to solve alarming discrepancies in the marriage contract that have caused property conflicts and diluted women’s rights. Authorities were surprised to discover that no official Urdu version of the marriage contract is published in the gazette. What’s more, provincial registrars also admitted that local editions are being printed and registered in regional languages without legal standardization, causing serious legal uncertainties.
These inconsistencies have tangible implications. Under the Muslim Family Laws Ordinance, 1961, women are legally entitled to be assigned the right to divorce under Clause 18 of the marriage contract. However, if this clause is filled, the wife is in a position to unilaterally terminate the marriage, saving herself from the burdensome legal procedure of divorce through court. However, in the majority of marriages, this important clause is either crossed out or left blank, usually without telling the bride.
This act of omission is not unethical; it is unconstitutional.
Registrars and clerics, more influenced by patriarchal traditions than by legal or Islamic guidelines, commonly ignore these provisions. Their own opinions, or social pressure from the groom’s household, often determine what rights the bride does or does not have.
Clause 17 of the marriage contract entitles both parties to agree upon conditions: whether the woman shall continue education, take employment, be provided with a monthly allowance, determine alimony, or even bargain terms of child custody. They are not demands; they are legal rights. But they are left blank in almost every registered marriage contract. Likewise, Clauses 21 and 22, which prohibit polygamy by requiring written permission from the first wife before a second marriage, are rarely spoken of and often disregarded. The silence about these clauses is not cultural modesty; it is legal disenfranchisement.
The problem is not that there are not enough laws, but that they are not enforced, and no one is aware of them. Women’s right to divorce is protected under Islamic law and Pakistani law. But these rights are never informed to them, much less lobbied for. In a nation where almost half of the women are illiterate, and even more are socially groomed to remain quiet during marriage contracts, this silence transforms legal rights into invisible ink.
The path forward is two-pronged.
To begin with, there needs to be a legally enforceable and nationally standardized version of the marriage contract in Urdu, so that all women, no matter how literate or illiterate, and from whatever region, know exactly what they are signing. The government has to ensure that this version is made available, well communicated, and enforced at all stages in stages of marriage registration.
Second, and above all, Special training needs to be imparted to registrars, clerics, and marriage officials so that they enforce legal norms as opposed to cultural inclinations.
The marriage contract is not just a marriage certificate. It is a legal, binding contract with conditions aimed at safeguarding both parties. It is time to read it, interpret it, and honor it, particularly for the women who sign it. Let it be signed in knowledge, and not in ignorance; in consent, not in silence.