Pakistan: How social media can become a danger to women

Earlier this month, 17-year-old TikTok star Sana Yousaf was shot dead by a man who had repeatedly contacted her online, according to police.

The killing of the popular Pakistani teenager, who had more than 1 million followers across TikTok and Instagram, has raised renewed concerns over the safety of online personalities in Pakistan, particularly young women.

"I had posted a story on social media while at a burger shop," Hira Zainab, a Pakistani social media user, told DW.

"On my way back, a car passed by, and someone called out my name."

Zainab, who has been active on Instagram since 2017, has maintained several public accounts, including a food blog and a society column.

She said this wasn't the only instance where online stalking turned into a real-life encounter.

"Once, I was at a salon, and after I left, I received a message saying, 'That color looks nice on you.'"

Both times, Zainab said the messages came from strangers who had previously made online advances she had ignored.

Are Pakistan's patriarchal norms to blame?

Other recent incidents — such as leaked video footage purporting to show TikToker Maryam Faisal in a private moment with a partner — have highlighted concerns about women's digital safety.

Violence against women is pervasive in Pakistan, according to the country's Human Rights CommissionImage: PPI/ZUMA/picture alliance

In Pakistan, self-expression and economic independence in digital spaces comes with a surge of threats, privacy violations, and social backlash pressures that often escalate into real-world violence.

According to a 2023 study by the Digital Rights Foundation, an NGO that advocates women's rights in the digital space, 58.5% of online harassment complaints in Pakistan are filed by women.

But public conversation rarely addresses the deeper, systemic issue — particularly the patriarchal norms that stretch from the online world into homes, workplaces, and society at large.

Women with public-facing digital lives have been asking why does visibility so often come at a cost?

The digital battleground

DW spoke with several Pakistani women who use social media in a public capacity.

Yusra Amjad, a Pakistani poet, has used Instagram publicly since 2017.

"What started with poetry grew into opportunities for content creation and collaboration," she told DW.

"The coolest thing that happened was when Yrsa Daley-Ward, a British African poet, selected someone from Instagram comments for a video call and I won" Amjad said.

"I also connected with Indian writers and poets."

She recalled one of many hate comments she has received.

"When my mother and I did yoga in a park. Hate comments alluded to it being shameless and dishonorable."

The patriarchy, family and culture trifecta

Bisma Shakeel, who is based in the Pakistani city of Kohat, uses social media to raise awareness about mental health, focusing on narcissistic abuse and domestic violence.

Her motivation stems from personal experience, having left a toxic relationship in which her partner was controlling and discouraged her from using social media to build a professional presence.

But the 29-year-old's journey wasn't straightforward.

Securing permission from her family to post videos showing her face took time. For many women, freedom on social media, just like in offline spaces, exists on a spectrum.

"My father is liberal, but even he said, 'You shouldn't post. People will talk. In our community, girls don't do that.'"

Though Shakeel is now active on social media, she said it doesn't come without risk.

"Not so much on Instagram, but on TikTok, you can't imagine the kind of threats we get. Rape threats, death threats," she said.

Women in Pakistan — especially those who are visibly active online, whether talking about politics or society or simply owning their space — are often judged and perceived as a threat to religious and cultural values.

''That framing is what makes the harassment feel 'deserved' to many. It's not random, it's deeply structured: she's labeled as immoral or un-Islamic, and then attacking her becomes a form of social or religious duty,'' said Maham Tariq, a feminist activist associated with Pakistan's "Aurat Azadi March" (Women's Freedom March).

"It allows people to feel righteous while being violent."

What works, what doesn't

Several women interviewed expressed frustration that social media platforms often fail to adequately support victims of online harassment. The complaint process is slow and often ineffective.

Aisha*, a Karachi native now based in Berlin, has used Instagram as a  blog and community platform for years. She shared her experience of being impersonated online with fake profiles and doctored photos.

''Family members would screenshot my photos,'' she said. ''And I saw fake profiles of myself.''

Aisha said that a recent Instagram feature whereby blocking an account also blocks associated IPs has dramatically reduced the number of fake accounts.

Following Sana Yousaf's killing, rights expert Dad noted that many women influencers have become active in reporting victim-blaming comments. 

"They also reported profiles glorifying Sana's murder,'' said Dad,  who noted that low digital literacy combined with widespread internet access remains a challenging and risky mix in Pakistan.

''So bad actors, somehow, they have this sort of trust in the system that it won't work for victims and survivors,'' she said.

While authorities often act swiftly on victims' complaints, that's not always the case.

For some, like Aisha, safety remains a major concern when visiting Pakistan, even from abroad. She says she keeps her accounts private during visits.

*Name changed to protect anonymity.

Edited by: Keith Walker