My journey with Case No. 9 across continents: USA, UAE and Pakistan. Used to a diet of rom-coms, starry-eyed love and vampires, my mother was skeptical when my sister insisted we watch the series.
The very first episode was horrifying when Seher was raped in her boss Kamran’s house. A disturbing watch with heartbreaking images that leapt off the screen. Nevertheless, my mother, sister, sister-in-law and I, our group of four, were riveted as the drama drew us into the world of Seher, who sets out to seek justice.
Seher’s journey stretched from a devastated rape victim cowering in the courtroom in front of the wealthy, powerful and entitled Kamran to a brave survivor who looked her rapist in the eye and let him writhe. Words matter – in the beginning, Seher saw himself as a victim. Her brother imprisons her at home, her mother only cares what people will say.
But when Seher decides to speak up, she becomes a survivor who stands tall. Author of ‘After Silence: Rape and My Journey Back’ Nancy Raine says: “Words seemed to make it visible. But speaking, even when it bothered me, also slowly freed me from the shame I felt. The more I struggled to speak, the less power the rape and its aftermath seemed to have over me”.
Rape survivors in Pakistan are often tormented by society. A woman in Degwal, Sargodha, who was gang-raped by the landlord’s servants, committed suicide by setting herself on fire due to taunts by village women. Her suicide note said: “They told me that I was damaged and that I should never again be allowed to walk the streets of the village. They said that I had brought disgrace on my family. I want to end my family’s misery as well as my own. They said that if I had any self-respect, I should kill myself for shame”.
Rape is the only crime where the survivor is cast in the role of the aggressor and subjected to a series of questions: the victim-blaming is endless and soul-destroying: what were you wearing? Why were you out so late? What did you do? It is precisely this kind of ubiquitous regressive thinking that Case No. 9 tackles with sensitivity. The drama is about sexual assault, institutional apathy and the emotional toll of legal battles.
While the legal system is teeming with unscrupulous lawyers and police as shown in Case No. 9, it is rare to have an honest judge deliver a landmark judgment. Contrast this with the behavior of Additional District and Sessions Judge Nizar Ali Khawaja on March 25, 2009 in Karachi. 15-year-old gang-rape survivor Kainat Soomro was asked by the judge to describe her rape in front of the accused, who had allegedly threatened and bribed Somroo’s family to settle out of court.
In front of 80 spectators, the defense attorney and the judge asked a series of invasive questions regarding the rape. She was asked when certain items of clothing were removed, exactly what actions were taken against her and when. When Kainat replied that she could not remember because she passed out, the judge scolded her. This is what rape survivors must contend with when they bring their rapists to justice.
The recent judgments delivered by Justice Mansoor Ali Shah and Justice Ayesha Malik call for an end to gender stereotyping of rape survivors and focus on the crime. Judge Malik linked cases of violence to constitutional rights to life and dignity. These judgments are reflected in laws such as the Anti-Rape Investigation and Trial Act 2021, which aims to create a fair legal framework for rape survivors.
Despite such progressive laws, rape survivors and their families in reality face problems due to misogynistic mindsets and institutional apathy. Case No. 9 sets a precedent for courtroom etiquette and how rape cases should be handled from the initial stages of the police report and medical examination. The legal challenges, lodging of FIR, the vital importance of preserving evidence, engaging lawyers, court procedures and recent changes in the law have been highlighted.
Small nuances pepper the series; for example, when the principled SP leaves his bedroom to take action against Kamran for raping Seher, the camera focuses on the SP’s wife embracing and holding their young daughter close. No words are said. Then there is Ali Rehman Khan in the role of Seher’s ex-husband, who supports her to the core and hopes to renew their relationship. He is gently told by Seher to go and live his life. Seher is her own hero and she doesn’t need a messiah.
Case No. 9 shows the power of female companionship and the liberated women who have Seher’s back: her lawyer Beenish, her friend Manisha, her best friend in Canada, and Kamran’s wife Kiran, who ultimately provided the decisive proof. While men have a bridge code, it is refreshing to see women unite and move mountains with their dedication and conviction.
The legendary Saba Qamar, Faysal Qureshi, Amina Sheikh and Gohar Rasheed lived up to their roles, but the revelation was the excellence of the supporting cast. A tight and sensitive screenplay by Shahzeb Khanzada stood out without annoying fillers; each actor had a significant role in moving the story forward. Naveen Waqar and Junaid Khan were excellent as Kamran’s friends Manisha and Rohan, as was Rushna Khan as Kamran’s wife Kiran: all three were faced with moral dilemmas which they highlighted.
An interesting technique was the insertion of the Shahzeb Khanzada show in the series where Seher and Kamran meet each other. Based on the credibility of the show, it gave authenticity to the facts as well as the alarming statistics and graphs of rape and sexual assault highlighted by Shahzeb. ‘When a woman says no, it means no’ and ‘raise your boys better’ were two important messages from him.
Our group of four watched Case No. 9 in rapturous silence: tea was sipped quietly, phones were turned off, children hushed. After each episode, there were serious conversations about what we had just seen on screen. My mom and many of my friends said they learned a lot from case #9 and that they are not the only ones. The impact of this series will go a long way in disrupting the conspiracy of silence and misogynistic thinking around sexual assault that has prevailed for far too long in Pakistan.
The author is a writer, journalist and change agent. She can be reached at: [email protected]
Disclaimer: The views expressed in this piece are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Pakinomist.tv’s editorial policy.
Originally published in The News
