For centuries before the arrival of foreign legal codes, the Indian subcontinent did not view human desire through the narrow lens of “straight” or “gay.” In the courts of the Mughal Empire, identity was not a fixed label but a spectrum of the soul’s expression.
The Heart of the Emperor: Babur and Baburi
One of the most honest accounts of same-sex attraction in our history comes from the founder of the Mughal Empire himself. In his autobiography, the Baburnama, Emperor Babur writes with startling vulnerability about his infatuation with a young boy in the camp bazaar named Baburi. He describes being “confused and distracted,” unable to look the boy in the eye—a classic description of a heart in the throes of Ishq (love). This was not recorded as a scandal, but as a legitimate state of the human heart.
The Sacred Presence of the Khwaja Sira
The people we now call the “Third Gender” were the backbone of the Mughal administration. Khwaja Siras were not marginalized; they were the “Grand Viziers” and trusted guardians of the most private royal spaces. They held titles of nobility, managed vast estates, and led armies. Their presence was a testament to a society that recognized that wisdom and authority did not belong to men or women alone, but to those who existed between worlds.
Sufi Love: Where Genders Dissolve
Our history is inseparable from the Sufi tradition. The legendary love between the Sufi saint Shah Hussain and the Hindu boy Madho Lal is perhaps the greatest “queer” epic of Lahore. To this day, they are buried together at the Shrine of Madho Lal Hussain. In Sufi poetry, the lover often takes the feminine persona to address the Divine, or the “Beloved” is described in terms that transcend gender. This ideology of Ishq-e-Majazi (metaphorical love) serving as a bridge to Ishq-e-Haqiqi (divine love) allowed for a social tolerance that modern “binary” thinking has forgotten.
The Poetry of the ‘Zanana’
Literature of this era, specifically Rekhti poetry, often featured voices that celebrated intimacy between women or expressed the “Zanana” (feminine) spirit within various bodies. These were not seen as “crimes” but as nuances of a rich, diverse social fabric.
نوٹ: یہ تحریر بی بی سی اردو سے لی گئی ہے۔ مکمل اور اصل مضمون پڑھنے کے لیے بی بی سی اردو کی ویب سائٹ پر جائیں
پاکستان میں ہم جنس پرست زیر زمین منظم ہو رہے ہیں اور ان کے باقاعدگی سے اجتماعات بھی منعقد ہوتے ہیں۔ ہم جنس پرستوں کے بیرون ملک تنظیموں سے بھی روابط ہیں جس سے ایسا محسوس ہوتا ہے کہ ملک میں ہم جنس پرستوں کی تحریک خاموشی سے مگر منظم طریقے سے آگے بڑھ رہی ہے۔
پڑوسی ملک بھارت میں ہم جنس پرستوں کے تعلقات کو قانونی حیثیت ملنے کے بعد پاکستان میں بڑھتی ہوئی مذہبی انتہا پسندی کے باوجود ہم جنس پرستوں کو بھی حوصلہ ملا ہے۔
اس کی مثال گزشتہ دنوں کراچی میں ہم جنس پرستوں کی مصروف ترین شاہراہ فیصل پر پریڈ تھی۔ ہم جنس پرستی کی نشانی والی آٹھ رنگوں کی ٹی شرٹس پہنے ہوئے ان نوجوانوں کی عام لوگ تو شناخت نہیں کرسکے مگر وہ لوگ جو انھیں سمجھتے ہیں یا ان کے قریب رہتے ہیں، انھیں دیکھ کر فتح کا نشان بناتے رہے۔
ہم جنس پرستوں نے سوشل نیٹ ورکنگ کی ویب سائٹس پر اپنے گروپس بنائے ہیں جن کے کئی سو ممبران ہیں
پریڈ میں شریک نوجوان ڈیوڈ کا کہنا ہے کہ پاکستان حکومت نے تردید کی تھی کہ ملک میں ہم جنس پرست نام کی کوئی چیز نہیں ہے۔ اس پریڈ کی ایک بنیادی وجہ یہ بھی تھی کہ حکومت کو بتایا جائے ہم موجود ہیں اور ہمیں تسلیم کیا جائے۔
ان کے ساتھی تحسین کا کہنا تھا ’اس پریڈ سے پہلے بہت بحث مباحثہ ہوا، کافی ڈر اور خوف بھی تھا کیونکہ پاکستان کے موجودہ حالات میں ہر انسان ڈر کر زندگی گذار رہا ہے۔ ان حالات میں ہم اتنے بڑے حق کے لیے بات کرنا چاہ رہے تھے۔ بعد میں ہم نے یہ سوچا کہ ہر چیز کی ابتدا کہیں نہ کہیں سے ہوتی ہے کسی کوتو پہلا قدم اٹھانا پڑے گا۔ یہ سوچ کر ہمارا ڈر اور خوف جاتا رہا۔‘
نوجوان ہم جنس پرست اپنے خیالات ، احساسات اور رجحانات کے بارے میں اپنے خاندان والوں کو آگاہ کرنے سےگریز کرتے ہیں اور ایک ڈھکی چھپی اور ادھوری زندگی گذارتے ہیں۔
پریڈ میں شریک نوجوان ڈیوڈ کا کہنا ہے کہ پاکستان حکومت نے تردید کی تھی کہ ملک میں ہم جنس پرست نام کی کوئی چیز نہیں ہے۔ اس پریڈ کی ایک بنیادی وجہ یہ بھی تھی کہ حکومت کو بتایا جائے ہم موجود ہیں اور ہمیں تسلیم کیا جائے۔
سولہ سالہ مانی طالب علم ہیں اور ان کا کہنا ہے ’ہم جنس پرستی کے بارے میں بچپن ہی سے معلوم ہو جاتا ہے مگر گھر والوں کو بتانا نہایت مشکل ہوتا ہے کیونکہ ہمارے جذبات، احساسات اور رجحان کو سمجھنے کے لیے انہیں شعور نہیں ہے۔ اگر بتا دیا جائے تو گھر والے ہم پر پابندیاں لگا دیتے ہیں اور ہمیں تیسری جنس سمجھنے لگتے ہیں۔‘
انٹرنیٹ جہاں کئی انقلاب لایا وہاں ہم جنس پرستوں کی زندگی میں خوشی کی نوید بن کر آیا اور ان کی یکجہتی میں اضافہ ہوا۔ پاکستان کے ہم جنس پرستوں نے بھی سوشل نیٹ ورکنگ کی ویب سائٹس پر اپنے گروپس بنائے ہیں جن کے کئی سو ممبران ہیں۔
مانی کا کہنا ہے کہ نئی نسل انٹرنیٹ سے باخبر ہے اور اسی کے ذریعے رابطہ ہوجاتا ہے۔ ’انٹر نیٹ پر کئی راستے موجود ہیں جہاں آسانی سے ایک دوسرے سے رابطہ کرسکتے ہیں۔‘ ان کے ایک اور ساتھی ڈیوڈ کے مطابق درمیانے درجے کے خاندان یا مڈل کلاس کے علاوہ بڑے گھرانوں کے کئی لوگ بھی ان کےگروپس میں موجود ہیں۔
یہاں اپنی سوچ کو دوسروں پر مسلط کیا جاتا ہے۔ جو آپ نہیں ہیں وہ کیسے بن کر رہ سکتے ہیں۔ اگر آپ لڑکیوں کی طرف متوجہ نہیں ہوتے تو پھر لڑکی سے کیسے شادی کرسکتے ہیں۔ ایسے کئی واقعات ہوئے ہیں جن میں ہم جنس پرستوں کو خاندانی اور سماجی دباؤ کے تحت لڑکیوں سے شادی کرنی پڑی مگر بعد میں ان لڑکیوں کی زندگی برباد ہوئی۔ اس لیے کہ وہ ان لڑکیوں کو چھوتے تک نہیں ہیں۔
تحسین
تحسین انجینیئرنگ کی تعلیم حاصل کر رہے ہیں اور ان کا کہنا ہے ’یہاں اپنی سوچ کو دوسروں پر مسلط کیا جاتا ہے۔ جو آپ نہیں ہیں وہ کیسے بن سکتے ہیں۔ اگر آپ لڑکیوں کی طرف متوجہ نہیں ہوتے تو پھر لڑکی سے کیسے شادی کرسکتے ہیں۔ ایسے کئی واقعات ہوئے ہیں جن میں ہم جنس پرستوں کو خاندانی اور سماجی دباؤ کے تحت لڑکیوں سے شادی کرنی پڑی مگر بعد میں ان لڑکیوں کی زندگی برباد ہوئی۔ اس لیے کہ وہ ان لڑکیوں کو چھوتے تک نہیں ہیں۔‘
پاکستان میں مذہبی شدت پسندی میں اضافے کے بعد کراچی میں بھی طالبانائزیشن کی بات ہو رہی ہے مگر ڈیوڈ کہتے ہیں کہ وہ خوفزدہ نہیں ہوتے۔’یہ ہمارا بھی ملک ہے۔ ملائشیا اور انڈونیشیا مسلم ممالک ہیں مگر وہاں سماج نے ہم جنس پرستوں کو تسلیم کیا ہے۔‘ تحسین نے ان کی تائید کرتے ہوئے کہا کہ انہیں حقوق نہیں چاہیئں کیونکہ انھیں معلوم ہے کہ یہاں حقوق نہیں مل سکتے۔ ’مگر کم سے کم لوگوں میں شعور ہو کہ ہم غلط نہیں ہیں کیونکہ یہ چیز دنیا میں موجود ہے۔ ہم ملائشیا اور انڈونیشیا جاچکے ہیں۔ ایسے کئی اور مسلم ممالک ہیں جہاں ہم جنس پرستوں کو حقوق نہیں دیے گئے مگر انہیں تنگ بھی نہیں کیا جاتا۔‘
کراچی میں ہم جنس پرستوں کے مخصوص مقامات ہیں جہاں ان کی ملاقاتیں ہوتی ہیں۔ شہر سے باہر ساحل سمندر اور فارم ہاؤس ان کی بڑی پارٹیوں کا مرکز ہیں جس کے لیے سنیچر کی شام مختص ہوتی ہے۔ تحسین کے مطابق ہم جنس پرست منظم ہیں اور ان کی پارٹیاں مقامی اور ملکی سطح کی ہوتی ہیں جن میں کئی سو لوگ شریک ہوتے ہیں۔
’اس سے پہلے چھاپے نہیں پڑتے تھے مگر اب پولیس جان بوجھ کر آتی ہے اور پارٹی بند کردیتی ہے۔ آرگنائزرز سے پیسے چھین لیے جاتے ہیں اور کھانا اٹھا کر چلے جاتے ہیں۔ اس پارٹی میں کوئی بھی غیر قانونی چیز نہیں ہوتی۔ اس میں نشہ آور اشیاء کا استعمال بھی نہیں کیا جاتا صرف ملنے ملانے کی پارٹی اور ڈانس ہوتا ہے۔‘
پاکستان کے ہم جنس پرستوں کا انٹرنیشنل لسبیئن اینڈ گے ایسوسی ایشن سمیت برطانیہ، امریکہ اور آسٹریلیا کی ہم جنس پرستوں کے حقوق کے لیے کام کرنے والی تنظیموں سے رابطہ ہے۔ تحسین کے مطابق ان تنظیموں کا کہنا ہے کہ تحفظ یا حقوق وہ اپنے ملک میں تو دلا سکتے ہیں مگر پاکستان میں کچھ نہیں کرسکتے، یہاں انہیں خود ہی کچھ کرنا ہوگا۔
ہم جنس پرستی پاکستان کے قوانین اور مذہبی حوالے سے ناقابل قبول ہے اور ملکی قانون کے مطابق ہم جنس پرستی کی سزاء دس سال قید یا کوڑے ہیں۔
پاکستان کے قوانین کے مطابق ہم جنس پرستی کی سزا دس سال قید یا کوڑے ہے
پاکستان میں کچھ واقعات ایسےبھی ہوئے ہیں جن میں کچھ لوگوں نے خود کو ہم جنس پرست قرار دے کر بیرون ملک سیاسی پناہ حاصل کی۔ مگر مانی کا کہنا ہے کہ ایسا کوئی مسئلہ نہیں اور بھی کئی طریقے ہیں جن سے سیاسی پناہ مل سکتی ہے۔’ اگر کوئی راستہ نظر آتا ہے تو وہاں سے صحیح اور غلط دونوں لوگ گذرتے ہیں مگر اس کا یہ مطلب نہیں ہے کہ جو حقیقی ہم جنس پرست ہیں وہ ایسا کرتے ہیں۔‘
پاکستان میں ہم جنس پرستی نہ تو لوگوں اور نہ ہی میڈیا میں کبھی موضوعِ بحث رہی ہے۔ انگریزی اخبارات میں بیرون ملک ہم جنس پرستوں کی کہانیاں اور تبصرے پڑھنے کوتو ملتے ہیں مگر پاکستان کے ہم جنس پرستوں کے بارے میں بہت کم لکھا جاتا ہے۔
اقوام متحدہ کے اعلامیے میں تمام اداروں اور رکن ممالک سے کہا گیا ہے کہ ہم جنس پرستی یا جنسی ترجیحات کی بنیاد پر ہونے والے امتیازی سلوک اور تشدد کے خلاف بھی اسی انداز میں کارروائی کو یقینی بنایا جائے جیسے انسانی حقوق کی خلاف ورزیوں کے خلاف کی جاتی ہے۔
یہ مضمون بی بی سی اردو سے شکریہ کے ساتھ دوبارہ شائع کیا گیا ہے۔ اصل تحریر بی بی
سی اردو کی ویب سائٹ پر اس لنک کے ذریعے پڑھی جا سکتی ہے:
History is often written by the victors, but for the LGBTQI community in Pakistan, history is written by the brave. While our roots in South Asia stretch back centuries, from the revered status of Khwaja Siras in Mughal courts to the fluid expressions of love in Sufi poetry, modern political “visibility” has a specific, painful, and powerful starting point: November 2009.
On November 10, 2009, a small but historic gathering took place in Karachi. Reported by BBC Urdu, this event marked one of the first times a group of gay Pakistani men chose to step into the public eye to discuss their rights and identity. In a society where Section 377 (a remnant of British colonial law) and social taboos enforced a life of absolute secrecy, this meeting was an act of revolution.
The BBC article, titled “Gay in Karachi,” captured a community at a crossroads. Participants spoke about the “underground” nature of their lives, the use of early internet chat rooms to find one another, and the deep desire to be seen as equal citizens of Pakistan.
Visibility in Pakistan has always come with a heavy price. During this 2009 activity, participants were acutely aware of the danger; every person involved hid their face. They used masks, scarves, or remained in the shadows during photography and filming to protect their identities from a society that was not yet ready to accept them.
The aftermath of this public activity was a stark reminder of the risks of activism. Following the publication of the report and the buzz it created:
Targeted Threats: Many participants began receiving direct threats as their identities were pieced together by relatives or neighbors.
Going Underground: Several activists were forced to leave their homes immediately, moving to different cities within Pakistan to escape recognition.
The Path of Exile: For many, even moving cities wasn’t enough. To stay safe and live authentically, a significant number of the pioneers of that 2009 activity eventually had to leave Pakistan altogether, seeking asylum in countries where they could live without the constant fear of violence.
This small Karachi gathering acted as a catalyst. Shortly after, between 2009 and 2011, the first clandestine queer organizations (often referred to by pseudonyms like “P” and “M” in academic research) began to form in Lahore and Karachi. These groups moved from mere social gatherings to advocacy, even as they navigated a landscape that grew more complex with events like the 2011 US Embassy Pride social, which sparked nationwide conservative protests.
We include this story in our History archive because Pride in Pakistan didn’t start with a parade; it started with a few brave souls in a room in Karachi, faces covered, hearts open, demanding to be heard. We honor those who were forced into hiding or exile so that today, we can continue the work of building a Pakistan where no one has to hide their face again.
Pride Runner is more than just a game; it is a digital representation of the daily resilience required by the LGBTQ+ community in Pakistan. As our character runs through the historic streets of Karachi and Lahore, they face real-world symbolic hurdles like security barriers and the “dark clouds” of societal judgment (Log Kya Kahenge).
At PridePakistan.org, we advocate for the fundamental human rights, safety, and equality of all individuals regardless of their sexual orientation or gender identity. By collecting our Rainbow Star logo, players contribute to the visibility of our mission to combat discrimination and promote a more inclusive Pakistan.
This game was born out of defiance. Following the blocking of PridePakistan.org by the PTA and other state agencies, we developed Pride Runner as a symbol of our community’s journey.
In Pakistan, to be yourself is to be in a constant state of navigation. The hurdles you jump today—the police barriers and the clouds of hate—are the same ones we face in the real world every day.
They can block our website, but they cannot block our path. Every star you collect represents our organization’s logo and our collective strength. We run through the landmarks of our country because this land belongs to us too. Play as a sign of resistance. Jump as a sign of progress. Stand proud, Pakistan.
At PridePakistan.org, we stand in unwavering solidarity with every member of the LGBTQI community currently living under a shadow of fear in Pakistan. Our organization is deeply saddened and outraged by the escalating wave of arrests, digital surveillance, and state-sponsored harassment targeting individuals based on their sexual orientation and gender identity.
For too long, the international community has been told a convenient narrative: that while homosexuality is technically illegal in Pakistan under colonial-era laws, the state does not actively “prosecute” people for being gay. We are here to tell you that this narrative is a myth. Today, the persecution has moved from the streets to the digital world. The Federal Investigation Agency (FIA) and the National Cyber Crime Investigation Agency (NCCIA) have launched a coordinated crackdown, not just by blocking websites like our own (PridePakistan.org) and popular dating platforms, but by actively hunting down those who attempt to access these safe spaces.
The Digital Trap: Entrapment and Human Rights Violations
The Pakistani state is utilizing the NCCIA and FIA to turn the internet into a minefield for the gay community. It is no longer just about censorship; it is about entrapment. Reports indicate that security agencies are monitoring dating platforms and using them to lure community members into “honey traps,” leading to public shaming, arrests, and the registration of First Information Reports (FIRs).
The blocking of PridePakistan.org and other support resources is a direct attempt to isolate the community, cutting off access to mental health support, legal advice, and a sense of belonging. Even more alarming is the arrest of individuals simply for trying to bypass these blocks to find connection in a society that continues to marginalize them.
The Reality of Torture and Daily FIRs
PridePakistan issues this strong statement today because we can no longer remain silent about the volume of suffering we witness. On a daily basis, PridePakistan receives thousands of messages and calls for help. Our community members report:
Systemic Torture: Individuals taken into custody by the FIA and police are often subjected to physical and psychological torture.
Illegal FIRs: Authorities are using broad “obscenity” and “cybercrime” laws to register cases against gay men, often without any evidence of a crime other than their identity.
Blackmail: These arrests often lead to state-sanctioned extortion, where victims are forced to pay bribes to avoid public exposure or further violence.
These actions are a blatant violation of fundamental human rights, including the right to privacy, the right to assembly, and the right to live free from torture.
Reframing the Narrative: From “Criminals” to Human Beings
Recent Urdu news reports (linked below) have characterized these incidents as the “arrest of homosexual gangs” or the “busting of unethical networks.” We want to rephrase these events for what they truly are: The targeting of vulnerable citizens seeking connection.
Where the local media says “FIA arrests gang involved in unethical activities,” we say: “State agencies target individuals seeking safe digital spaces for community building.” Where headlines scream “Homosexual network busted via mobile apps,” we recognize: “The state is violating the digital privacy of LGBTQI individuals to justify illegal detention.”
We urge the Pakistani state to remember that the gay community in Pakistan consists of its own citizens—doctors, engineers, students, and workers—who deserve the same protection of law as any other individual.
Call to Action
We call upon human rights organizations, both local and international, to take notice of the FIA and NCCIA’s targeted campaign against the gay community in Pakistan. Privacy is a human right. Connection is a human right. Freedom from torture is a human right.
To our community members: Please stay safe. Use high-quality VPNs, be cautious of who you meet via digital platforms, and know that PridePakistan.org continues to fight for your visibility and safety, even when the state tries to switch off our lights.
References and News Archive
The following reports document the recent surge in state actions against the community. We include these to show the scale of the crackdown, while condemning the derogatory language often used by these outlets:
The digital repression of LGBTQIA+ people in Pakistan has entered a new and alarming phase. After years of blocking gay dating apps, LGBTQIA+ websites, and online support platforms, the Pakistan Telecommunication Authority (PTA) — in coordination with FIA, NCCIA, and other state agencies — has now blocked access to PridePakistan.org inside Pakistan.
This is not an isolated act of censorship. It is part of a systematic effort to erase, silence, and endanger the LGBTQIA+ community.
PridePakistan.org Blocked Nationwide — Even VPNs and Proxies Targeted
For many years, LGBTQIA+ Pakistanis have relied on PridePakistan.org as one of the only safe, community‑run platforms offering:
Mental health support
Legal information
Emergency guidance
Asylum resources
Community connection
Safety alerts
But instead of protecting vulnerable citizens, the state has chosen to criminalise access to support.
PTA has:
Blocked PridePakistan.org across all major ISPs
Blocked gay dating apps and LGBTQIA+ websites
Blocked VPNs and proxy services commonly used to access PridePakistan.org
Pressured tech companies to restrict LGBTQIA+ content
This is not “internet regulation.” This is targeted digital persecution.
PTA Has Written to Social Media Platforms and Tech Companies to Block PridePakistan
In a deeply troubling escalation, PTA has written to multiple global platforms — including Linktree, social media companies, and IT service providers — instructing them to block access to PridePakistan.org and related resources inside Pakistan.
This means:
LGBTQIA+ Pakistanis cannot access our Linktree
Our social media links may be restricted
Our educational resources are being censored
Our safety guides are being intentionally hidden
This is an attempt to cut off the community from every possible lifeline.
A Pattern of State‑Backed Harassment and Digital Surveillance
The blocking of PridePakistan.org comes after years of:
Arrests of gay men through digital entrapment
FIA and NCCIA raids based on online activity
Phone searches without consent
FIRs filed under cybercrime and morality laws
Torture and harassment of detainees
Public humiliation in media reports
Censorship of LGBTQIA+ content across platforms
Authorities claim that “Pakistan does not prosecute people for being gay.” But the evidence — and the lived experience of thousands — tells a very different story.
PridePakistan’s Official Statement
On behalf of PridePakistan, we issue this clear and unwavering condemnation:
Blocking PridePakistan.org, targeting LGBTQIA+ websites, arresting gay community members, and censoring digital access are violations of fundamental human rights, freedom of expression, and the right to safety.
These actions:
Endanger LGBTQIA+ lives
Cut off access to mental health and legal support
Force people into isolation
Criminalise identity and existence
Violate international human rights standards
We receive thousands of messages every year from LGBTQIA+ Pakistanis who are terrified, targeted, and desperate for help. Blocking our website does not stop the community from existing — it only makes them more vulnerable.
Why This Matters
When a state blocks:
LGBTQIA+ websites
Gay dating apps
VPNs
Proxies
Social media links
Community support platforms
…it is not “regulation.” It is erasure.
It is an attempt to silence a community that already lives under threat, discrimination, and violence.
PridePakistan Will Continue to Stand With the Community
Despite censorship, intimidation, and state pressure, PridePakistan remains committed to:
Providing support
Sharing resources
Documenting abuses
Advocating for human rights
Amplifying LGBTQIA+ voices
We will continue to operate globally, and we will continue to fight for the safety, dignity, and freedom of LGBTQIA+ Pakistanis.
The community deserves protection — not persecution.
At PridePakistan.org, we know that in moments of extreme crisis, whether you are facing physical violence, a forced marriage, or thoughts of self-harm—finding help can feel impossible. Please remember that our organization does not have its own rescue teams; we rely on these public services to keep you safe.
Category
Service
Number
Why Contact This Number?
Life & Safety
Police Emergency
15
For immediate physical danger, theft, or assault.
All-in-One Rescue
Rescue 1122
1122
Primary contact for ambulance, fire, or disaster rescue (Best in Punjab/KPK).
Ambulance (NGO)
Edhi Foundation
115
Reliable, nationwide medical transport.
Ambulance (NGO)
Chhipa
1020
Extremely fast emergency transport (Best in Karachi/Sindh).
Ambulance (Private)
Aman Ambulance
1021
Advanced life-support medical emergencies.
Fire Emergency
Fire Brigade
16
For active fire situations if 1122 is unavailable.
Online Safety
FIA Cybercrime
1991
If you are being blackmailed, harassed online, or your private photos are being leaked.
Human Rights
MO Human Rights
1099
To report illegal confinement, forced marriage, or torture.
Child Safety
Child Protection
1121
For those under 18 facing family violence or abuse.
Mental Health
Humraaz (Govt)
1166
For suicide prevention and immediate psychological support.
Security (Rural)
Rangers
1101
For security assistance in areas where Rangers are active.
Security (Border)
Coast Guards
1102
For emergencies in coastal rural regions.
🛡️ Your Safety Protocol
In any emergency call to 15 or 1122, you do not need to disclose your sexual orientation or gender identity.Focus on the physical threat: State clearly if you are being attacked, if there is a medical emergency, or if you are being held against your will.
Privacy is protection: Keep your identity private during the initial call to ensure responders arrive quickly without bias.
🚨 Emergency Contacts by Region
While 1122 (Rescue) and 15 (Police) are the standard for most of Pakistan, here are the specific contacts for administrative and rural territories:
Federal & Northern Territories
Islamabad (ICT):Police: 15 or (051) 9102108
Rescue/Ambulance: 1122
Gilgit-Baltistan (GB):Police: 15
Rescue 1122: Active in major districts like Gilgit and Skardu.
Azad Jammu & Kashmir (AJK):Police: 15
Rescue 1122: Dial 1122 for ambulance and disaster relief.
Rural and Border Area Assistance (Army/Paramilitary)
In remote or rural areas where police presence may be thin, these paramilitary forces often provide security:
Rangers (Sindh/Punjab):1101
Frontier Corps (KPK/Balochistan): Contact local checkposts or dial 1122 to be routed to the nearest security assistance.
Coast Guards (Coastal Rural areas):1102
👮 Tahafuz Centers & Specialized Police Support
If you feel you must disclose your queer identity to seek protection, we recommend visiting a Tahafuz Center (Protection Center). These are specialized desks within police stations designed to support marginalized groups.
While these desks are specifically for transgender individuals, the officers there are often trained to be more empathetic. You may find it safer to speak with a Transgender Police Officer about your situation than a regular officer.
Rawalpindi: Tahafuz Center, Police Lines HQ.
Contact: (051) 9292675
Lahore: Multiple “Meesaq” and “Tahafuz” centers (e.g., Liberty Khidmat Markaz).
Multan: Tahafuz Center at Police Lines Multan.
Karachi: Gender Protection Unit at various Model Police Stations.
Advice: When approaching these centers, you can ask to speak specifically with the Transgender Victim Support Officer (TVSO). While you may be gay or lesbian, these officers are your best chance for a non-judgmental hearing within the police system.
⚖️ Human Rights & Child Protection
If your rights are being violated by your family (forced marriage, conversion therapy, or confinement), use these official oversight numbers:
Ministry of Human Rights Helpline:1099 (National)
Child Protection & Welfare (For those under 18):1121
FIA Cybercrime (Blackmailing/Online Harassment):1991
💚 Mental Health & Suicidal Thoughts
If the psychological pressure of forced marriage or family stigma feels unbearable, please do not give up. You are loved, and your life has immense value. If you are having thoughts of suicide or self-harm, please visit our dedicated support section immediately for professional, discreet help:
If you have used any of these services and faced discrimination or been refused help because of your identity, please let us know. We document these cases to fight for better protections for the LGBTQIA+ community in Pakistan.
This article is reposted with credit to DesiBlitz and Shezad’s interview on YouTube.
Shezad’s Story
Shezad, a Pakistani gay man, shared his journey of seeking asylum abroad. His story reflects the painful reality faced by many LGBTQI people in Pakistan: living under constant fear of violence, rejection from family, and the impossibility of living openly.
In his interview, Shezad describes the challenges of leaving Pakistan in search of safety and dignity. Yet even after reaching a “safe” country, asylum seekers often face new struggles—long waits in detention centers, psychological trauma, and the uncertainty of whether their applications will be accepted.
The Harsh Reality for Gay Asylum Seekers
For many gay men leaving Pakistan, the dream of a happy life abroad comes at a devastating cost:
Loss of money and resources during dangerous journeys.
Risk of death while traveling or crossing borders.
Depression and isolation in asylum centers.
Application refusals, leaving individuals in limbo or facing deportation.
Detention in prisons or psychiatric wards in countries that claim to be “safe.”
Many governments still consider Pakistan a “safe country” for bisexual and gay men if they remain discreet. This dangerous assumption ignores the reality: discretion often means living in silence, fear, and denial of identity.
Why This Matters
Shezad’s story is not unique. It represents countless gay and queer men from Pakistan who are forced to choose between survival and authenticity. Without resources or visibility, many lose their lives—whether through suicide, family violence, or systemic neglect.
At PridePakistan.org, we believe no one should have to hide their identity to stay alive. We provide support resources for:
Asylum seekers navigating complex legal systems.
Psychological support for those facing trauma.
Shelter and emergency aid for LGBTQI people in crisis.
We thank DesiBlitz and Shezad for sharing this important story. By amplifying these voices, we hope to raise awareness of the urgent need for safe spaces, advocacy, and solidarity for Pakistani gay men and the wider LGBTQI community.
👉 Read the original story on DesiBlitz and watch Shezad’s interview on YouTube.
DESIblitz retells the harrowing tale of one man’s experience as a gay asylum seeker from Pakistan. We reveal the real-life story of Shezad*.
Article 377 of The Penal Code of 1860 was first introduced by the British throughout their rule of India, criminalising all sexual acts deemed “against the order of nature.”
Whilst Indians have since celebrated this victory, Pakistan and Bangladesh still adhere to the Victorian era law where homosexual acts can be punishable by prison sentences.
For those Pakistanis who cannot survive the law and restrictions, the only way out for them is to seek asylum and seek refuge in another country. Especially, if they are found out or get in trouble with the authorities.
We follow one such story of Shezad Ahmed*, a gay asylum seeker who fled Pakistan to the UK to help him openly accept his sexuality.
Asylum Claims in the UK
Based on experimental statistics, 6% of all asylum claims from 1 July 2015 and 31 March 2017 were on the basis of sexual orientation.
The highest number of asylum claims where sexual orientation was raised as part of the basis of the claim came from Pakistan – where 1,000 claims were made.
Even so, very few asylum claims on the basis of sexuality are accepted in the UK.
Gay asylum seekers form a minority within a minority, making them susceptible to prejudice and discrimination on more than one ground.
On the one hand, they are ostracised for their sexuality. On the other, they are condemned by nationals for their unfamiliar origins.
A community virtually unheard of in the mainstream media, DESIblitz delves more into this stigmatised area of life.
We come face to face with Shezad, who shares his tumultuous journey as a gay asylum seeker from Pakistan.
Painful Beginnings
Shezad’s story begins in Peshawar, Pakistan. He was born into a working-class family and grew up in a poverty-stricken home, with a drug addict for a father.
He was forcibly removed out of education at the tender age of 11 to enter the world of manual labour.
After spending time away from home, he recalls a harrowing encounter with a friend of his uncle which he believes was a turning point in his life.
Shezad, tentatively, says:
“What I’m about to tell you I don’t even think I’ve told immigration.
“I was about 13 or 14 … I woke up in the middle of the night. I don’t remember the time. I don’t know what happened exactly, but when I looked down I had no trousers on.
“Whatever happened after that, all I know is that I had become obsessed with sex. I tried to have sex with objects, anything I could.”
From this point onward, he adopted a strong sense of fear in his daily life regarding his sexuality, something he would have to keep a secret in order to survive.
His first relationship with a man developed with a fellow colleague, soon after establishing his own business.
Though he strove to live his own life freely, it wasn’t long before family pressures began to consume him. Especially, expectations around marriage.
At around 30 years of age, he married his first cousin at the behest of his mother.
Though he delayed the marriage for as long as he could, Shezad had little choice in the matter. The decision for him to marry his cousin was made even before he was born.
After spending some time with his wife in Pakistan, he later moved to Saudi Arabia, where life got no easier.
“I was scared. If the authorities found out [about my sexuality] they would behead me.”
Aside from strict Saudi laws, the citizens also gave Shezad a hard time, in particular when he was attacked in a brutal hate crime. Regardless, he still masked the truth in fear of his own life.
“I was so scared of the authorities that I didn’t say anything. So, I just said that I had an accident.
After enduring several years of hardship in Saudi Arabia, he returned to his motherland, where he continued living his loveless marriage and engaged in another relationship with a man for a number of years.
As his mental health began to deteriorate and he knew he had to get away from the life he was living.
He decided to come to England in search of a better and more acceptable life.
“I always thought I’d earn enough money to leave Pakistan. It was always my thought process.
“I knew my whole life I couldn’t live in Pakistan but I had no means to get out. When I found a way, I came here.”
Unfortunately, Shezad faced difficulties even in the UK after fleeing Pakistan.
He found himself homeless on several occasions; often having to sleep outside, in the car, or seeking refuge in a friend’s house if he was ever granted the opportunity.
Whilst he was informed of LGBT support groups by his lawyer, he found it difficult to relate to others. His inability to speak English formed a barrier with locals, and he was afraid to confide in other South Asians in fear of judgement.
‘Proving’ his Homosexuality
Shezad had the misfortune of meeting people who could not accept him as a part of their social circle.
“I finally started going to meetings, but even so, I felt very alone.
“My problem is that I can’t share my pain with anyone. I’d rather put myself through pain than put others through pain.”
Even within the LGBT community, he bore the brunt of prejudice and discrimination.
“When I went to LGBT meetings, some people wouldn’t talk to me, some wouldn’t shake my hand.”
“They’d say it was because I was an asylum seeker, or I was Pakistani, or they didn’t believe I was gay.
“Many people do this to me. They don’t like me, they get angry at me. I can’t tell if it’s because there’s something wrong with me. Am I lacking something?”
Fortunately, Shezad managed to gain a support system around him, in particular, from his doctor.
“There is no person better than my doctor. He looked after me, he helped me. I feel better talking to Asians about being gay now.
“My doctor knew everything about me and still helped me with everything.”
Like many gay asylum seekers, Shezad found it difficult to ‘prove’ his sexuality to the authorities, which is often a requirement in UK law.
“If this [being gay] was a medical situation it would be so much easier. But it’s not. It’s a feeling.”
Gay asylum seekers were often subjected to ‘homosexuality tests,’ a series of psychological tests to ‘prove’ their sexuality.
However, in January 2018, these were outlawed after being deemed a violation of human rights by The European Court of Justice.
Family and Community Reactions
Despite fathering three children, which does question Shezad’s sexuality as to whether he is bi-sexual or homosexual; he strongly condemns the idea of living with them.
Speaking about how they would react to his orientation, he says:
“I don’t want my children to live with me. They would have a difficult life and so would I.
“Maybe you can accept this but in Pakistan, they can’t. When they grow up, how will they accept that their father is gay?
“I want to help them with all their worldly needs, but it’s not suitable for us to live together.
“Nor my wife, nor anyone else in Pakistan knows that I’m gay. If anyone found out I wouldn’t have been able to come here. How would I? I would have died already.
“There was one guy in my village whose penis, nose, ears and tongue were chopped off. That was his punishment for being gay.
“You can hit someone, but to chop off their body parts? That’s too much.
“If anyone in my family knew I was gay, they’d want to end me.”
“Gay means to be happy. But I’ve never felt any sense of happiness from being gay. I’ve been punishing myself. I have no power to change how I feel. What you are, you are.”
Accepting his Sexuality
Despite the numerous hardships, Shezad confidently states that he would much rather live in England than in Pakistan.
“I had no option. I couldn’t live there, even though I had a home, everything. I wasn’t happy. I couldn’t handle it.
When asked if he feels happy, Shezad humbly responds:
“Yes, I am happy. I have friends around me. How can I not say I’m happy when I can sit among three people and openly tell them I’m gay? That is happiness for me.”
Accepting his own sexuality has been a major challenge for Shezad as he explains:
“I tried to change this about myself. I’ve tried so hard. I punished myself as well as enduring other peoples’ punishments.
“I’m strong. But when it comes to being gay I become so weak.
“Eventually I said to myself, ‘Okay, I’m gay.’ No one can do anything about it.”
As a concluding statement, Shezad bravely requests:
“I just want people to understand that gay is gay. You can’t do anything about it. That is all.”
People like Shezad are not alone. 20% of Pakistani asylum claims were made on the basis of sexual orientation between July 2015 and March 2017.
Many gay asylum seekers find themselves shunned by society, with little to no support from those around them. Yet, those like Shezad continue to show courage in the face of adversity.
Until security is guaranteed, gay asylum seekers will continue in their tireless pursuit of a safe haven.
In situations where a life is at stake, the situation becomes very dangerous for individuals like Shezad who try to fit in but find it difficult even in the country they are born due to their sexual oreintation.
If you or anyone you know is personally affected by Shezad’s story, please do not hesitate to contact the following organisations:
This article is reposted with credit to Metro Weekly. Please visit their website to read the full original profile.
A Celebrity Forced Into Exile
Ali Saleem, famously known as “The Queen of Karachi,” rose to prominence as a bold, queer performer in Pakistan. Despite his celebrity status, wealthy background, and family ties to the military elite, Saleem was forced to leave Pakistan simply to stay alive. His story, as profiled by Metro Weekly, reflects the precarious reality of being openly queer in a country where visibility often comes at the cost of safety.
Article:
In the nearly inexhaustible catalog of D.C.-based mission-driven organizations, AsylumWorks is a noble entry for assisting asylum seekers and other “newcomers” in the D.C. metro area and beyond.
Their LGBTQ component, PRISM (Pride Refugee & Immigrant Support Meet-up), grew out of similar work being done by a group at The DC LGBTQ+ Community Center, Center Global. And atop PRISM’s Facebook page is a photo from the 2022 Capital Pride Parade. There are many beaming faces, including Ali Saleem’s, front and center.
Front and center suits Saleem perfectly. He’s not merely at home in the spotlight. Arguably, he was born for it, 45 years ago in Pakistan. There, Saleem reached the most dazzling heights of celebrity, through a journey that began in his mother’s closet.
“I was completely in awe of all the gorgeous women, all the divas,” says Saleem, reaching back to childhood. “We had a lot of Indian movies — ‘Bollywood,’ as you call it…. And then I fell in love with Benazir [Bhutto] when I was 9 years old and she became prime minister of Pakistan for the first time. This beautiful woman with flawless skin and red lipstick who wears the dupatta over her head — so elegant and so graceful. I wanted to be like these divas.”
Young Ali did just that when his Army officer father and government official mother had evenings out, diving into his mother’s wardrobe and cosmetics. Occasionally, his parents arrived home to find him reveling in the transformation. In some families, this might have prompted severe punishment. Saleem says his parents never offered more than a mild scolding.
As his schooling progressed and Saleem found himself drawn to dramatic arts, opportunities arose to perform. Eventually, he even had a chance to remake himself as his favorite diva, the aforementioned Prime Minister Bhutto.
“I walked onstage as Benazir Bhutto, but in a burqa,” Saleem recalls of a performance with a sketch-comedy troupe very early in his career. “We had the prime minister of Pakistan at the time, Shaukat Aziz, sitting in the audience. These were very high-priced tickets, a very elite audience, the ‘who’s who’ of Pakistan political society and celebrities.
“When I finished my opening dialogue, there was pin-drop silence. And then there was just an uproar! People were bursting with laughter and falling out of their chairs. There was this cheer. I knew this was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, to be an entertainer.”
With Benazir Bhutto as his muse, in a sense, that is what Saleem did. For a time, he would continue this impersonation, this homage, as his star rose ever higher in Pakistani high society. He even brought his Bhutto likeness to national television audiences, while outwardly embracing an androgynous style for themself.
If Bhutto had twice been Pakistan’s prime minister, Saleem was to become its queen — “I was the queen of Karachi for sure, Honey!” — as an entirely new persona, Begum Nawazish Ali. READ THIS STORY IN THE MAGAZINE
It was 2004, says Saleem, that a film-industry friend suggested that he break away from the Bhutto box. “‘You need to be your own self. I see a diva in you!’” is how Saleem remembers the guidance. “That conversation was so powerful for me.”
The friend assigned a new persona, with “Begum” being a sort of amorphous word in Urdu, that might mean “princess” or “lady” or, in Saleem’s case, a wife of high-ranking social status. “Nawazish” came from a popular song, where it was used to express gratitude. And Ali is simply pure Saleem.
Working as an associate producer for a Pakistani TV station, Saleem wrote up a proposal for a talk show to be hosted by this new persona. While there was immediate interest from colleagues, Saleem says his project languished until a newly formed competing network got wind of it. Saleem’s Late Night with Begum Nawazish Ali was launched, Aug. 13, 2005.
“Oh, my God. It was unbelievable,” says Saleem, his voice cracking slightly. “I’m getting emotional just talking about it. It was as if God and the entire universe was suddenly answering my prayers…. My first episode, I was able to get Makhdoom Amin Fahim, who was the acting chair of the Pakistan Peoples Party. And Reema, who was the No. 1 film actress…. It was the most talked about show in Pakistan.”
Shah Yasir, a Pakistani screenwriter who lives in the D.C. area, shares his sense of what it was like in Pakistan at the time, watching Saleem’s celebrity blossom.
“I remember first hearing about a boy who could impersonate former Prime Minster Benazir Bhutto when I was in high school in Karachi,” Shah says. “I even got to see them give an impromptu performance of that impersonation at a friend’s party shortly before I left for college in the States. After that, I watched them rise quickly to fame as a female-impersonating talk show host on Pakistani TV.
“Begum Nawazish Ali was a hit among countless families who not only accepted, but also adored, a drag queen…. I think it’s also noteworthy how drag queens reading storybooks is still a topic of such vitriol and controversy in the States in 2024, when in Pakistan a drag queen talk show was not only accepted but in fact a huge hit among millions of households back in the early 2000s.”
As the U.S. has, in ways, taken conservative turns, so has Pakistan. Saleem says that while audiences across the social strata were adoring, work trips to India were sparking some interest from shady corners of government. Saleem says he wasn’t particularly cooperative with requests from government agents — requests, says Saleem, that went so far as to demand he arrange liaisons between female celebrities he knew and government officials.
While he had other professional projects in the works, his show was canceled. He later launched another talk show, simply as himself, The Late Late Show with Ali Saleem, but that, too, ended. At the same time, he says, a mood hostile to his brand of entertainment was growing.
“There’s always the right wing, the self-righteous people who hate you for who you are,” Saleem bluntly observes. “As my fan base was increasing, so were the people who were against what I represented. For them, I was becoming a bigger and bigger threat. ‘Is this what the Islamic Republic of Pakistan stands for? Is this a role model for our boys? This needs to be stopped.’
Saleem says his focus on work, the whirlwind of parties, made it easy for him not to notice how the political environment was turning for the worse. Until his best friend, Sheikh Amir Hassan, was murdered in 2008. Hassan had been at Saleem’s home for a party, returning to his own residence in the early hours. Later that morning, Saleem received word that Hassan had been shot in his home. Hassan’s murder was sensationalized, with a variety of outlets victim-blaming, with Saleem’s own lifestyle becoming fair game in the press.
As the atmosphere continued to change, Saleem says he was later advised by authorities that someone related to the Taliban had been arrested with suicide-bomb equipment. It was not lost on Saleem that in 2007 a suicide bomber assassinated his beloved Benazir Bhutto.
“During interrogation, he revealed the names of celebrities that the Taliban were going to target,” Saleem says. “My name was on top of the list, of course, No. 1.”
The heyday had ended. The curtain fell. Saleem no longer felt safe. With close friends in the D.C. area, he made his escape. Since 2019, Washington has been his safe haven. Thanks to his contacts, he’s happily serving drinks at the beloved Dupont-area gay bar Larry’s Lounge. His mother recently came for a visit from Pakistan, her first since he arrived in the U.S. Saleem is building community with PRISM and others, volunteering for Kamala Harris’s presidential campaign, though he is a nonvoting resident.
While the Pakistan party has ended, Saleem seems nonetheless very content with the new life he has built. Certainly, Saleem has staked a claim as one of the many local residents who bring some invaluable piece of the LGBTQ world to Washington. Among the area’s South Asian diaspora, Begum Nawazish Ali makes clear from time to time that she’s not retired, performing at private gatherings. She also hints that she might even break out the finery for World Pride.
“I would love to march as Begum, that is my plan,” Saleem shares, excited for the Queer world to come to D.C. en masse. “We are international. That’s why we have the rainbow. Despite our racial differences or cultural differences, or nationalities and all of that, we come together and unite as one people because we all want to see this world becoming more accepting, more tolerant, more loving, more generous.”
This profile is part of an exclusive Metro Weekly series leading up to World Pride 2025, highlighting the global reach of D.C.-based organizations, activists, artists, and others.
The Broader Reality for Gay Men in Pakistan
While Saleem’s fame gave him some protection and eventual escape, countless gay and queer men in Pakistan face similar threats without resources or international networks. Many endure:
Torture and harassment from authorities and vigilantes.
Death threats from family members or society at large.
Isolation and despair, leading some to suicide when no safe options remain.
These stories rarely make headlines, but they represent the daily reality of marginalized gay men across the country.
Why This Matters
Ali Saleem’s journey is not just about one individual—it is a symbol of resilience and survival against systemic oppression. His exile underscores the urgent need for:
Safe spaces where gay men can live authentically without fear.
Access to resources for those facing violence or contemplating escape.
Solidarity and advocacy to challenge stigma and demand justice.
At PridePakistan.org, we honor Ali Saleem’s courage and stand with all gay and queer men in Pakistan who continue to resist oppression. We thank Metro Weekly for amplifying his story and remind our community that every voice matters in the fight for dignity, equality, and survival.
This article explores the vital conversation around being both Muslim and LGBTQI, focusing on the essential Islamic principle of compassion and the universal love of Allah for all His creatures.
On our journey to promote understanding and coexistence, it is imperative to open a discussion that acknowledges the diverse experiences within the global Muslim community. The core message of our faith calls us towards mercy and acceptance, reinforcing the profound truth that Allah loves all his creatures, including gay people.
The Interesting Debate on BBC and Diverse Islamic Perspectives
The complexity of this issue was recently highlighted in an interesting debate on BBC news , featuring a conversation between two influential perspectives.
We delve into the vital discussion sparked by a powerful conversation on The Victoria Derbyshire Programme, featuring Asif Quraishi (gay and Muslim) and Imam Ajmal Masroor.
The central debate—captured by the quote “I believe you can be both gay and Muslim”—explores the diverse interpretations within our faith. Asif Quraishi argues for the Quran’s openness, while Imam Ajmal Masroor stresses the Islamic imperative for tolerance and acceptance for all people, even amidst theological disagreement.
Read our piece on why this dialogue is essential to combat internalized homophobia—the deep self-hatred fostered by strict conservative Muslim societies. We explore the painful connection made in the debate to the Orlando tragedy, highlighting the extreme consequences of forcing faith and identity into conflict.
One participant, a gay Muslim, argued passionately that the text of the Quran is open, suggesting that a contemporary reading allows for the full acceptance of the gay community within Islam. This perspective calls for looking beyond historical interpretations to embrace the spirit of justice, love, and inclusion inherent in the divine message.
The contrasting view, presented by an Imam, maintained the traditional stance that the Quran prohibits homosexuality. However, critically, the Imam also stressed the importance for Muslims to practice tolerance and acceptance, emphasizing that people of different opinions and lifestyles—including gay people—must be allowed to live with dignity and respect within the community. This balanced view highlights that even within theological disagreement, the fundamental Islamic value of coexistence remains paramount.
Internalized Homophobia: A Call for Open Dialogue
The consensus from such discussions points to the vital need to talk openly about being gay and Muslim at all level. This dialogue is crucial to combat a pervasive psychological damage known as internalised homophobia.
When some conservative muslim societies make this discussion so strict, it can force gay Muslims into silence and profound internal conflict. Being even as gay, they are taught by their environment to hate themselves, leading to a dangerous psychological state where they start to hate themselves and society. This internalised hatred, which stems directly from rigid religious and societal policing, prevents individuals from reconciling their faith with their identity.
The continuous, open discussion is therefore not just a matter of social inclusion, but a critical imperative for mental and spiritual health, ensuring that faith remains a source of comfort and not a tool for self-hatred.
The Tragedy of Orlando: A Consequence of Internalized Conflict
The devastating incident of the Orlando gay club shooting was mentioned in the debate as a stark example of the potential consequences of this internal conflict. The tragic statement suggested that the person who committed the atrocity was probably suffering from internalised homophobia, even himself being gay.
While we can never fully know the motivations behind such acts, this perspective serves as a powerful warning: the societal refusal to accept gay Muslims does not eliminate their existence; it merely forces them underground, fostering shame and potentially explosive psychological distress. This underscores why promoting acceptance and coexistence is essential, not only for the well-being of LGBTQI Muslims but for the safety and spiritual health of the entire community.
At PridePakistan.org, we believe in a merciful Islam—an Islam where the love of Allah encompasses all, and where every creature is welcomed into the fold of the community with tolerance, acceptance, and compassion. The dialogue must continue.
