Laiba Nayab still can’t forget the day a young man, pistol in hand, stood at her doorstep. “I remember how furious he was,” she recalls, voice trembling. “He kept shouting that I had taken his money, and then he hung up. I didn’t even know who he was or what he was talking about.” After trashing her home and abusing her, the man snatched Liba’s phone and stormed off.
It turned out someone had created a fake social‑media account in Laiba’s name and used it to demand money from people. The man who showed up with a pistol was just one of those tricked into paying.
Laiba, a transgender woman from Peshawar, uses social media to share her dance videos and photos. It’s her way of building a fan base and earning a living. “Dancing is how I support myself,” she says. But these same platforms have become a double‑edged sword.
When she reported the attack at the nearby Kotwali police station, officers arrested the suspect and recovered her phone. Yet under pressure from the man’s family, the case was closed through a jirga agreement, and he walked free without facing any legal consequences.
Arzu Khan, president of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa’s Transgender Community Organization and head of the Manzil Foundation, has seen dozens of cases like Laiba’s. She says police told her to file a complaint with the National Cyber Crime Investigation Agency (NCCIA) to shut down the fake accounts. But Laiba never did, and to this day, those impostor profiles remain active.
When asked why she didn’t approach NCCIA, Laiba says she’d already filed multiple complaints, first with the FIA’s Cybercrime Wing, then with the NCCIA, but saw no action or support. “We’ve been through this before,” she explained. “When cyber‑harassment happens to us, nothing ever comes of our complaints.”
The threat of online abuse has forced some transgender people to leave Pakistan altogether. Azaan, another community member, had to relocate abroad when impostors opened accounts in her name and extorted money. “Those who paid thought they were helping me,” she says. “But they ended up threatening my life. I had no choice but to flee.”
Non‑profit Deh Hawa Lor works across the province to protect transgender rights. Its director, Shawana Shah, warns that as digital platforms become more central to daily life, they’re also piling on new dangers. “The content they share is often used against them,” she says. In some cases, cisgender men forcefully record videos or pictures of transgender people and then blackmail them.
Advocate Mehwish Sana Siddiqui, who provides free legal aid to transgender clients, notes that fear, shame, or lack of confidence stops many from seeking institutional help. Under Pakistan’s Electronic Crimes Act, cyber offenses carry three to five years’ imprisonment and hefty fines. Victims can also register online complaints, but they must submit their ID and preliminary evidence of the crime.
Arzu Khan warns that digital threats are on the rise. In recent weeks alone, seven transgender people have faced violence after their dance videos were shared without consent; two were even killed by family members in “honour” killings. Since 2010, the Manzil Foundation has recorded 1,800 cases of violence against transgender Pakistanis; 158 have been murdered. This year’s first six months saw eight killings.
Official records show 450 transgender individuals registered with Khyber Pakhtunkhwa’s Social Welfare Department, and NADRA has issued 163 identity cards marked “X.” But community groups estimate there are over 50,000 transgender people in the province.
NCCIA’s Khyber Zone officials admit that few transgender victims report cybercrimes. The last high‑profile case involved Peshawar’s well‑known transgender activist, Dolphin Ayan, whose intimate videos were shared online. Despite an extensive investigation, it too ended in a private settlement.
Digital Rights Foundation data reveals that of 3,171 cybercrime complaints filed nationwide in 2024, just 18 involved transgender individuals.
Digital Rights Foundation also provides free legal assistance and guidance to people across the country facing cybercrime. Victims can register complaints by phone or email. According to the foundation’s figures, in the first five months of this year, they received 775 complaints, 11 of which involved transgender individuals.
Shawana Shah emphasizes that laws and agencies exist, but awareness is desperately needed. “Transgender people must know their rights and how to seek help,” she says. She adds that institutions need to foster environments where victims feel safe coming forward. Arzu Khan believes appointing more women and transgender staff in these agencies would go a long way toward rebuilding trust and ensuring that justice isn’t just another empty promise.
