The Journey of Aashi Afroz
My name is Aashi Afroz, daughter of Niaz Afroz. After completing my matriculation, I was married off in 1995 at the age of 18. Over the years, I gave birth to three children—two daughters and a son. Tragically, my son did not survive due to severe health complications. After his passing, my husband, without my consent, arranged for me to undergo a sterilization procedure, ensuring that I could not have any more children.
Throughout our 18-year marriage, my husband repeatedly borrowed money from others and then disappeared, leaving me and my daughters to struggle alone. I had no choice but to work as a domestic worker while also completing five professional courses to provide for my family. I endured these hardships solely for the sake of my young daughters.
When my elder daughter turned 17 and my younger one was 9, I finally decided to seek khula (legal separation) and returned to my mother’s home. My mother then arranged my second marriage to Shehbaz Malik, a retired army officer, in 2013. He already had three children but initially accepted my daughters. However, within just eight months, his true nature emerged—he became an alcoholic and started abusing my children.
To protect them, I sent my daughters back to their paternal family. My elder daughter was soon married and is now a mother of three. She is 26 years old, while my younger daughter, now 19, is still pursuing her education. Sadly, my younger daughter refuses to meet me, though my elder one secretly stays in touch over the phone.
Despite sending my daughters away, Shehbaz did not stop tormenting me. One night, in the presence of his friend Imran and his family in Safora Goth, he brutally beat me from 10 PM to 5 AM. The violence left me unable to stand or move. Eventually, he divorced me on September 23, 2018, signing and stamping the legal papers. Severely injured, I was admitted to CMH Karachi, where I remained for ten days. Medical tests confirmed that my spine had suffered permanent damage. I was bedridden for three years, completely dependent on others for my basic needs.
Once I regained some mobility, I legally registered my divorce, updated my national identity card under my father’s name, and sought help from various organizations in Karachi. However, every place I turned to, including Ayan Senior Home, felt suffocating and unsafe. At one point, I even attempted suicide, but God had other plans for me. Isolated and mentally shattered, I withdrew from society.
On June 26, 2022, I traveled by road with Shehbaz’s children to Muridke, Punjab, for a program. Exhausted from the journey and suffering from severe leg pain, I took a Diclofenac injection just to be able to move. But my condition in his home was no better than that of a servant—I cooked, cleaned, washed clothes, and ironed them. One night, after returning home drunk, he misbehaved with me again. When I reminded him that we were already divorced and that I was only there due to circumstances, he physically assaulted me once more and threw me out.
With just a single outfit and a small bag, I left his house with nowhere to go. I prayed to God for guidance. I knew I could never return to that abusive man, but my own family had also abandoned me.
The Journey of Aashi Afroz
Wandering alone, I reached G-11, Islamabad, where a kind family gave me shelter for ten days. But they, too, eventually asked me to leave. I then moved to Rawalpindi Railway Station, contemplating a return to Karachi. But deep down, I knew my family wouldn’t accept me.
At the station, I met a woman from Sargodha who noticed my distress and told me about Sattar Welfare Organization (Hawa Shelter Home). I immediately searched for it online and contacted Khidmatgar Baba, who directed me to Dar-ul-Aman in Shamsabad, Rawalpindi, and a shelter home in Rawalpindi. After careful thought, I decided to go to Sargodha instead.
Now, I am in Sargodha, where I have submitted my written statement. I seek shelter, food, clothing, and legal assistance. It has been seven years since I last saw my daughters, and I desperately long to meet them again.
Due to excessive stress and trauma, my voice is weak and trembling—I can barely speak. But all I ask for is justice and a chance to reunite with my children.After living in a shelter home for some time, Ashi returned to her parents' house.
