5 Things We Learned from This Week’s Case No. 9 About the Character of the Victim in Rape Trials
Case No. 9 is written by Shahzaib Khanzada and directed by Syed Wajahat Hussain. It is produced by Abdullah Kadwani and Asad Qureshi under the banner of 7th Sky Entertainment. The cast includes Faysal Quraishi, Saba Qamar, Aamina Sheikh, Junaid Khan, Hina Khwaja Bayat, Noor ul Hasan, and more.
This week’s episode of Case No. 9 cut through decades of courtroom misogyny to expose one of the oldest defence strategies in rape trials: attacking the character of the victim. In many cases, when evidence is strong, the defence pivots to the woman herself – her past, her relationships, her body, her morals. The drama didn’t just call this out; it dismantled it using two landmark judgments: Atif Zareef vs. The State (Supreme Court) and Sadaf Aziz vs. The State (Lahore High Court).
Both judges hold that such questions violate Article 14’s guarantee of dignity, Article 4’s protection of body and reputation, and Article 25’s promise of equality before the law.
Since the drama only touched upon these rulings briefly, we took the liberty to dig deeper into both judgments, and what we found is not only powerful but transformative for how rape trials must be conducted.
Here are the five key lessons we learned from these cases – lessons the drama brilliantly translated onto screen.
1. A rape victim’s character is legally irrelevant — and cannot be put on trial.
Defence lawyers often weaponise a victim’s past, but Justice Mansoor Ali Shah made it unambiguously clear:
“Questions targeting her character had no relevance to the matter on trial, i.e., the commission of rape on her.”
This means her “moral reputation,” sexual past, clothing, or lifestyle have no place in determining whether rape occurred.
2. A rape survivor’s testimony holds special weight.
The Supreme Court recognises the depth of trauma a rape survivor endures. As Justice Mansoor Ali Shah wrote:
“A rape victim stands on a higher pedestal… she suffers psychologically and emotionally.”
Her testimony cannot be dismissed through character attacks or insinuations about her past.
3. Sexual history cannot be used to imply consent.
One of the most harmful myths in rape trials is the idea that sexually active women are “more likely” to have consented. Justice Mansoor Ali Shah rejected this entirely:
“The myth that ‘unchaste’, ‘impure’ or ‘immoral’ women are more likely to consent… has no legal basis.”
And Justice Ayesha Malik delivered one of the strongest statements in Pakistani jurisprudence:
“Even the most promiscuous of women does not deserve to be raped.”
Past intimacy does not equal consent not legally, not morally.
4. The victim is not on trial — the accused is.
Both judgments emphasise this fundamental principle. Justice Mansoor Ali Shah writes:
“A woman, whatever her sexual character or reputation may be, is entitled to equal protection of law.”
Her reputation cannot be used as a shield for the accused. Her private life cannot be turned into a courtroom spectacle.
5. Courts must stop using degrading, misogynistic language about women.
Justice Mansoor Ali Shah directed courts to abandon harmful terms long used against victims:
“Courts should discontinue the use of… ‘habituated to sex’, ‘woman of easy virtue’, ‘loose moral character’, and ‘non-virgin’.”
Justice Ayesha Malik added that these stereotypes reinforce the false belief that sexually active women are “unworthy of belief.”
Such language does not just shame victims — it corrupts justice.
Why This Episode Matters
By grounding its narrative in real jurisprudence from Justice Mansoor Ali Shah and Justice Ayesha Malik, Case No. 9 delivered more than entertainment it delivered legal literacy. It showed viewers that the Pakistani legal system is evolving, and that character assassination, virginity testing, and victim-blaming are not just unethical but unconstitutional.
A rape trial is about one thing: the crime committed not the woman who survived it.
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