The recent Indian film Haq, inspired by the landmark Shah Bano case, has reignited attention around a subject South Asian legal systems have long approached with unease: a woman’s right to maintenance after the dissolution of marriage. Rather than treating maintenance as a narrow legal technicality, the film places it at the centre of a woman’s post-divorce reality, underscoring its significance for dignity, survival, and autonomy.
What Haq portrays, however, is far from an exclusively Indian concern. In Pakistan, silence and discomfort around maintenance are equally entrenched. The issue is routinely relegated to the private sphere, framed as an individual inconvenience rather than recognised as a structural injustice. This neglect carries real consequences. When women are denied timely and adequate financial support after divorce, the effects extend well beyond the individual, reinforcing cycles of poverty, dependence, and inequality that ultimately burden society at large. Yet maintenance continues to be treated as a personal dispute, not a matter of public concern with broader social implications.
At its core, maintenance refers to the financial obligation arising from marriage, particularly the duty of a husband to support his wife and children. On this principle, Islamic law is clear. Nafaqah is a recognised obligation attached to marriage and parenthood, rooted in the understanding that marriage redistributes economic roles and responsibilities. Financial support is not conceived as generosity or optional goodwill; it is a duty grounded in justice and fairness.
In Pakistan, this obligation is reflected in statutory frameworks such as the Family Courts Act and relevant personal laws. Courts are empowered to order maintenance for wives and children, including interim maintenance during legal proceedings. However, older formulations sometimes qualified this right by stating that maintenance was payable only “as long as she fulfils her duties and obligations.” In practice, such language has opened the door to abuse, allowing allegations of moral failure or disobedience to be weaponised as a means of evading financial responsibility.
One of the most persistent barriers to effective maintenance lies in prevailing social attitudes. Divorce is often perceived by men as a complete severance of responsibility, particularly towards former wives. Some disengage entirely, while others argue that once the marital tie is broken, any entitlement to support disappears with it. Children, too, are frequently treated as secondary concerns, their needs subordinated to personal convenience.
This understanding is deeply flawed. Marriage is not a temporary arrangement without consequences; it is a partnership that often demands immense physical, emotional, and unpaid labour from women, labour that continues to shape their economic position long after the marriage ends.
To deny maintenance in these circumstances is to disregard the economic consequences of marriage itself
Many women spend years managing households, raising children, and supporting families, often at the expense of their own earning capacity. Even when they wish to work, domestic responsibilities frequently limit opportunities for financial independence. When such marriages end, women are often forced to rebuild their lives from scratch, without savings, support, or security. To deny maintenance in these circumstances is to disregard the economic consequences of marriage itself.
Despite this, maintenance is rarely framed as a right. Instead, it is commonly portrayed as an act of mercy or benevolence on the part of the man. Women are compelled to plead for what the law already guarantees, and expected to express gratitude for whatever amount is offered. This framing is reinforced by broader social attitudes that police women’s choices.
Women who leave marriages are judged harshly, confronted with moralising narratives that reduce their suffering to personal failure, such as ‘you reap what you sow’. Such narratives deter many women from seeking legal recourse, pushing them to treat maintenance as a private family matter rather than a legal entitlement.
The result is that maintenance often becomes contingent on a man’s personal disposition. When he provides support, it is celebrated as generosity; when he does not, the burden of survival rests entirely on the woman.
There has been some progress. More women are increasingly aware that maintenance is a right, not a favour, and are turning to the courts to enforce it. Yet for those who pursue legal remedies, the process itself often becomes a second trial. Proceedings can stretch on for years. Interim maintenance, intended to provide immediate and obligatory relief, is frequently treated as discretionary.
Awards are often insufficient, disconnected from actual living costs or inflation. Litigation is both emotionally and financially exhausting as legal fees accumulate, repeated court appearances disrupt daily life, and the psychological toll of repeatedly justifying one’s entitlement is substantial. Meanwhile, many men exploit systemic weaknesses by underreporting income, transferring assets, or becoming unreachable, confident that enforcement mechanisms are weak and penalties for non-compliance are minimal.
These realities make it clear that maintenance cannot remain a peripheral concern. Meaningful reform must address both enforcement and perception. Time-bound orders, mandatory income disclosure, and effective penalties for non-payment are essential. Courts must also resist patriarchal biases that allow character-based accusations to dictate financial outcomes. Equally important is a shift in social attitudes: post-divorce financial support must be recognised as a routine and obligatory consequence of marriage, not a shameful concession. Only then can maintenance serve its intended purpose, which is that of protecting women, supporting children, and upholding justice.