As Pakistan debates reproductive health education in schools, opinions remain divided.
We unpack the arguments—and why this lesson is long overdue.
There’s a moment in every awkward dinner conversation where someone asks a question that makes the whole room shift uncomfortably in their seats. Senator Quratulain Marri did just that, except her table was the Senate Standing Committee on Education, and her question was more of a proposal: should we include reproductive health education in Pakistan’s national school curriculum?
Some nodded in agreement. Others shook their heads with alarm. And just like that, we were in familiar territory caught between the urgent need to educate our youth and the overwhelming discomfort of talking about it.
Let’s start by clearing up what reproductive health education actually is. It’s not a class on how to have sex. It’s a class on how our bodies work. On what puberty feels like. On why a 13-year-old girl shouldn’t be terrified when she gets her first period. On how to understand consent. On how to protect yourself from abuse. It’s education, not indoctrination. It’s science, not scandal.
But in Pakistan, these topics remain stuck behind locked doors and hushed whispers. The assumption is that if we don’t talk about it, maybe the kids won’t figure it out. Except—they already have. They’re growing up in a digital world where information, misinformation, and sometimes deeply harmful content is just one Google search away. And when schools don’t teach them, YouTube will. Or TikTok. Or worse, pornography. Is that really the version of “education” we’d rather they get?
So here’s why it’s time to move past the discomfort and into a future where Pakistani students are not just literate, but health literate.
1. The Health Statistics Are Alarming
Pakistan has one of the highest maternal mortality rates in South Asia. Every day, 675 babies under 1 month and 27 mothers die from preventable complications in Pakistan, amounting to over 9800 maternal and 246,300 newborn deaths each year. Pakistan also registers more than 190,000 stillbirths annually. Many of these deaths are preventable and occur due to a lack of knowledge around reproductive health, unsafe abortions, or delayed access to maternal care.
Girls in Pakistan often begin menstruating with zero understanding of what’s happening to their bodies. A 2017 study by UNICEF revealed that only 49% of girls were aware of menstruation before their first period, and even fewer knew how to manage it hygienically. This leads to shame, confusion, and serious health risks, including infections caused by poor menstrual hygiene. 28% of respondents said they missed school or work while on their period mainly because they were ashamed of getting red spots on their clothes/uniform, that boys would find out, or due to pain related to their period.
And this is just the tip of the iceberg.
2. The Absence of Formal Education Leaves Room for Misinformation
In the age of smartphones and unrestricted internet access, shielding children from the topic of sex and reproduction doesn’t mean they won’t learn about it. It just means they’ll learn from TikTok, pornography, unreliable peers, or dodgy YouTube videos. The vacuum created by the lack of formal sex and reproductive health education has already been filled—and not by helpful or accurate information.
Instead of protecting our children, our silence has left them vulnerable to myths, abuse, and dangerous behavior. Reproductive health education offers a medically accurate, age-appropriate, and culturally sensitive alternative—crafted by professionals, not internet algorithms.
3. Ignorance Isn’t Innocence
Children and adolescents who are unaware of bodily autonomy and consent are more susceptible to sexual abuse and coercion. According to the Cruel Numbers 2024 report by civil society organization Sahil, a total of 3,364 cases of child abuse were reported in 2024 across all four provinces, the Islamabad Capital Territory (ICT), Azad Jammu and Kashmir (AJK), and Gilgit-Baltistan (GB). The report, which is based on data gathered from 81 national and regional newspapers, reveals that an average of nine children were subjected to abuse every day. It also highlights 45 reported cases of child marriage during the year, 43 involving girls and two involving boys.
Reproductive health education, when delivered appropriately, teaches children about safe and unsafe touch, their right to say no, and how to seek help. It doesn’t “corrupt” them, rather it empowers them.
4. Global Best Practices Back It
A UNESCO report highlights that comprehensive sexuality education (CSE) is a powerful tool for challenging harmful gender norms, stereotypes, and practices that hinder gender equality. It plays a crucial role in helping young people understand concepts like love, respect, consent, care, and integrity—laying the foundation for healthy relationships, families, and more just societies. CSE also equips youth with the knowledge and confidence to recognize abuse or coercion, set personal boundaries, and seek help when needed. Notably, when young people are educated about gender inequality, discrimination, and power dynamics, they become five times more likely to take actions that effectively prevent unintended pregnancies, HIV, and other sexually transmitted infections.
5. Without Knowledge, Boys Become Vulnerable Too
And while conversations around reproductive health often (and rightly) center on girls, let’s not forget the boys. They, too, are navigating confusing changes—physically, emotionally, hormonally. But unlike girls, who might at least have hushed chats with their mothers or friends, boys are often left to figure things out in silence. The result? They turn to questionable corners of the internet or peer myths, forming warped ideas about sex, consent, and relationships. Comprehensive reproductive health education can intervene early, providing boys with the language, empathy, and self-awareness to unlearn damaging myths and build healthier attitudes toward gender, sexuality, and power.
6.Informed Choices, Healthier Futures
One of the most overlooked benefits of reproductive health education is its role in teaching young people about family planning and birth control—not as something shameful, but as a responsible, life-shaping decision. In Pakistan, where conversations around contraception are often limited to marriage or not had at all, most people grow up with myths, misinformation, or no information at all. Introducing the concept early—through structured, age-appropriate education—means that young people can understand their options before it’s too late. It’s not about promoting early sexual activity; it’s about ensuring that when they do reach that point in their lives, they are equipped with the knowledge to make informed choices. Birth control, when taught without stigma, becomes a tool for autonomy—especially for women who often bear the brunt of unplanned pregnancies.
Research has shown that when husbands are educated about the importance of spacing between births, they begin to understand its significance — not just for the mother’s health, but also for the well-being of their existing child.
And in a country like Pakistan, where population growth is outpacing resources, empowering the next generation with the tools of family planning isn’t just good health policy—it’s common sense.
Opponents of the bill, like Senators Kamran Murtaza and Gurdeep Singh, argue that such education clashes with our culture and values. But is our culture really so fragile that it crumbles at the mention of menstruation?
Some suggest the decision should be left to parents. That sounds reasonable until you realize that many parents were never taught these things themselves. Can we reasonably expect them to educate their children when the system failed them first? And what about children whose parents won’t, or can’t, have these conversations Should they be left to fend for themselves?
This isn’t about corrupting young minds. It’s about protecting them. About ensuring a girl knows how to say no when someone touches her inappropriately. About making sure a boy understands that no means no. About giving young people the tools to make informed choices, not just in marriage, but in life.
Reproductive health education is not a Western idea knocking on our door. It’s a necessity knocking on our conscience. It is our opportunity to raise a generation that understands responsibility, respects boundaries, and recognizes the value of informed choices.
The irony is that we’re comfortable teaching physics, chemistry, and math, but somehow refuse to teach the science of our own bodies. What are we so afraid of? That our children will know too much—or that we’ll have to confront how little we were ever taught ourselves?
The bill is still pending. The committee is still debating. But our children are not waiting. They’re growing up with or without us. The question is: do we want to raise a generation that’s informed, safe, and empowered—or do we want to keep tiptoeing around the one subject that could actually save lives?
Source: UNESCO, UNICEF, Al Jazeera
