Review: Zard Patton Ka Bunn is a story that comes along once in a long while
Sajal Aly and Hamza Sohail deliver the love story you didn't ask for but definitely need to watch.
The Kashf Foundation is preparing to return to television with its seventh production, Aik Aur Pakeezah, a story of resistance, of reclaiming dignity and of asking a difficult question: what does justice look like in a world where digital harm leaves permanent scars?
On Thursday, the Kashf Foundation hosted a launch event in Lahore for the drama, created in collaboration with the Government of Canada. Images was invited to cover the event and hosted by the Kashf Foundation. The evening included the trailer premiere, a cast meet-and-greet, a keynote address by Senator Syed Ali Zafar and two panel discussions exploring access to justice in cybercrime and the creative process behind the series.
For 25 years, the Kashf Foundation — Pakistan’s first microfinance non-profit — has worked to expand financial access for women from low-income communities, supporting more than one million women entrepreneurs. But as its impact deepened, founder and managing director Roshaneh Zafar realised that advocacy also requires shifting mindsets. Storytelling, she told Images, became their most effective tool for that shift.
“Our dramas are not just about stories — they are about changing mindsets and igniting conversations.”
Airing soon on Geo TV, the drama follows the titular Pakeezah, played by Sehar Khan, whose life crumbles after a manipulated video of her goes viral. The event forces her into a forced marriage and a long battle against stigma, institutions and the digital traces she cannot erase.
Model and actor Amna Ilyas plays barrister Saman, Pakeezah’s lawyer — a strong-willed advocate with her own arc — paired with Gohar Rasheed. Taking a holistic approach, the drama also explores male harassment through the character of Faraz, played by Nameer Khan, shedding light on how society treats male and female victims differently.
The cast also includes Case No. 9’s Noorul Hassan, Hina Khawaja Bayat and Nadia Afghan.
Directed by Kashif Nasir and written by Bee Gul, the drama examines cyber harassment, gender-based violence, coerced marriage and the systemic barriers that prevent women from seeking legal recourse.
Gul said the hope was that if the drama generated even “a little bit of empathy” for victims, it would have achieved its purpose. Among many messages, the makers attempted to educate families on the importance of their support for victims.
“I just want you to understand that you are an individual, you are a part of a family, and if something has happened to a family member, be it a woman or a man, then what can you do?” she said.
Nameer echoed the plea during the event. “No matter what kind of challenges you face, you should be supportive of your wife, you should support her decision, whatever decision she is making. Not to run away whenever a difficulty comes upon her. Support your sisters, mothers, the women around you. Go an extra mile for them.”
He also urged viewers to empathise with the characters rather than just watch it for entertainment.
Director Nisar emphasised that while the legal process is part of the story, the drama focuses on behavioural and societal responses to cybercrime. It shows the difficulties one faces on the journey of seeking help.
“Agar apko kahin jana hai, remedy leni hai, tou wahan janay se pehle apko bohat roka jata hai (If you want to go somewhere to seek remedy, you face a lot of barriers even before reaching),” he explained.
Gul noted that while the drama was not based on a single event, it was “loosely based” on multiple real incidents she had heard of.
“I have read a lot of such stories, heard them, people have told me about it. I have heard it through journalists. So, I think that somehow, very unconsciously, I might have knitted all those into one.”
The narrative traces the victim’s experience from the moment the crime occurs — the initial family reaction, stigma and isolation — long before any legal process begins.
“This whole play is addressing [the fact that] after the incident happened, after the crime, how does a girl struggle to reach to the court? Access to justice comes later, whatever happens in court happens much later. Before that it is about what will you say at your house? What will your mother say? Your brother, your father, your neighbourhood. How they [make you a] outcast. How they make you feel that you can’t show your face to anyone now.”
When you choose to deliver stories that are meant not just to shift but shape societies — stories that bring out the ugliness of a society and put it on display for the entire world to see, stories that take charge of holding people accountable — you shoulder a lot of responsibility.
The idea of centring cybercrime for their next drama emerged during the shoot for the Kashf Foundation’s previous award-winning drama Zard Patton Ka Bunn in Bahawalpur.
Starring Sajal Aly and Hamza Sohail, the Zard Patton Ka Bunn revolves around Meenu, a spirited village girl with dreams of becoming the first doctor from her village.
“We were sitting and debating. We’ve done popΩulation control, we’ve done girls’ education, and we’ve done a lot of other issues. So now what’s next? We started thinking, and the thing that came out was access to justice. And then cybercrime, which is an issue that’s growing in our society. And nobody’s really effectively talking about it. So we felt that that was really the point,” Zafar said.
According to the Digital Rights Foundation’s eighth annual report, Pakistan recorded 3,171 complaints of tech-facilitated gender-based violence in 2024, with cyber harassment making up 2,741 cases.
Of these 2,741 reported cases, 36 per cent of them “originated from cities where a Federal Investigation Agency cybercrime wing is operational,” according to the report.
Once a broader theme was decided, the Kashf Foundation’s research team compiled extensive data and case studies over the course of months before convening creative workshops with writers, directors and subject experts.
“We do the research first, we have all this [research] which is very extensive, we spend months collecting the data. Then we have a creative workshop where we have the director, the writer, our creative team, and then a few experts on that area. Then we sit down, we look at the numbers, the data, the outcomes, the case studies,” Zafar explained.
“We go and speak to people who have been confronted with or have experienced that issue so that we have real, authentic narrations,” she added.
Gul shared how she not only studied the Foundation’s research but also conducted her own — from consulting young male lawyers to approaching people at the Federal Intelligence Agency (FIA) while posing as a victim, simply to understand how a woman in Pakeezah’s situation would truly be treated in the real world.
An example of this ‘undercover research’ she gave was her describing Pakeezah’s case to the officials and lawyers and them asking some very interesting and technical questions.
From proof of evidence to details of the story to the nature of the video, she would be asked all types of questions.
“Then they’d ask what kind of video is it? You know, there were questions like these, and I would share some details from my story with them and then they would guide me,” she told Images.
“One said that it would be very difficult. You can’t do this [can’t win the case]. And it will take a lot of time,” Gul recounted the officials telling her.
That attention to detail extended beyond the writing. During the panel discussion with the cast and crew, the director and writers shared how both lead actors also came in with a list of questions during readings about the small details.
When inquired about the most challenging or emotionally taxing scene, both actors said the same thing: every scene.
“Every scene was challenging,” Sehar said. “I performed after feeling it — and the journey was painful.”
“Emotionally, it was tough to feel all those emotions that no one wants to feel. When you feel it, your empathy towards such people amplifies,” Nameer explained.
With over 72 million internet users in Pakistan and nearly 40pc of women reporting online harassment, according to the Kashf Foundation’s research, digital spaces have become an extension of real-world threats. Dramas like Aik Aur Pakeezah attempt to highlight these dangers and encourage behavioural change.
Sehar hoped that after watching Aik Aur Pakeezah, “society changes and people learn how to use social media properly”.
Last month, a fabricated video claiming to show journalist Benazir Shah dancing in a nightclub circulated online, receiving over half a million views before being debunked, which is just one example of the relentless digital hostility women face.
“When you are living through a society, and you are going through situations when such things come to the surface on almost a daily basis, it is stupidity to not talk about them,” said actor and activist Bayat.
“We will be able to resolve these issues only if we talk about them, otherwise, you are going to live in your own Lala Land and suffer for it,” she added.
Despite existing laws, reporting remains low. Of the 3,171 complaints recorded by the DRF, 1,772 were filed by women — only those who found the courage to step forward. Most never report.
Gul pointed out that the first barrier is often not society — it’s mothers. “It starts right from their homes, the first person to stop them is their mother, another woman.”
Ilyas added that many women simply do not know their legal rights, and internalised shame prevents them from seeking protection.
Despite having laws against the crime in our country and being allowed rights, women are often unable to exercise those rights.
Zafar believed that now is the critical moment for such work. “The most concerning issue now is access to justice, but within that, the question of digital rights and the question of cybercrime, because people have now got access to this tool and this information, and because they haven’t been educated on how to use it, the ethics and the morality behind it is not clear. There is a lot of space for going wrong. So, we felt it was important to take up this issue of cybercrime, and also to look at how the overall access to justice for women is configured.”
During the panel Access to Justice in the Age of Cybercrime, Federal Ombudsperson against Harassment Fauzia Viqar spoke about the power of media: I have been trying to educate people about my work for the past 20 years but they don’t register it.
However, now, even her domestic help knows what steps rape victims should take due to dramas such as Case No. 9, which follows woman’s quest for justice after her employer rapes her.
“I am struck by the power of media,” Viqar said.
Over the past 12 years, the Kashf Foundation has used storytelling as a tool for social reform — one drama at a time. Their productions have tackled child marriage (in their first drama, Rehaai), sexual abuse (Udaari), and human trafficking (Dil Na Umeed Tou Nahi), each sparking public debate.
The shift towards television began after the Foundation saw how community theatre proved effective in changing perceptions. Moneeza Hashmi, author and daughter of renowned poet Faiz Ahmed Faiz, encouraged Kashf to step into television, and since then, their dramas have sparked conversations and influenced policy.
“We discovered that rather than sermonising about rights, storytelling worked very effectively, [and] was extremely organic,” Zafar said.
The results have been tangible. When Rehaai aired in 2013, 30pc of Pakistani girls were married before 18. The next year, Sindh passed the Child Marriage Restraint Act, 2013 — a reform Zafar credited partly to advocacy and sustained public pressure.
Post-Udaari, research involving 1,200 respondents showed shifts in public attitudes: recognition that harassment often begins at home, and greater empathy for survivors.
“We saw that post-Udaari, this message went out fairly clearly. And then about the issue of abuse versus victim versus abuser. I have lots of anecdotes where people have come to me and said, ‘You know, Udaari was my story. Since I saw the drama, I can look people in the eye and say, it wasn’t, I’m not to blame for this’.”
Now, Aik Aur Pakeezah.
It might not help victims “win” the case, as Gul rightfully pointed out, there is no winning for the victim. Whether you win the case or not, the victim, having lost all those years fighting, comes out a completely different person.
However, what it aims to provide is a conversation starter. A sense of sensitivity towards victims of cyber crime, and a ray of hope for victims who feel completely alone in their fights.