“If not knowing the law is not an excuse,” KANOON SEEKHO asks, “why has no one made the law understandable for teenagers? Are teens not subject to the law?”
By Asfia Raza
Even if the law is available, it’s either unaffordable for everyone or not designed for young minds. If the law isn’t designed for young minds, then why do we have courts and jails for them? I believe that before the law can punish, it should educate. Before it demands obedience, it should offer understanding.
Underage citizens often drift into crime not because they are born criminals, but because factors such as neglect, broken homes, peer pressure, and lack of awareness about consequences heavily influence their choices. Many children grow up without consistent guidance or access to legal awareness. When society fails to provide support and education, young people may turn to alternative sources for direction, making them vulnerable to harmful influences and impulsive decisions.
This is not a story of poverty or place, but of access. Children from all backgrounds can make irreversible mistakes when guidance, awareness, and support are absent. The crimes they usually commit are small in nature, petty theft, snatching, vandalism, or drug-related acts, yet each offence reflects a deeper failure of care rather than intent. Preventing juvenile crime demands more than laws and punishments; it requires compassion, education, parental responsibility, community support, timely intervention, and awareness.
According to data published in The State of Children in Pakistan reports by the Society for the Protection of the Rights of the Child (SPARC), approximately 21,849 juvenile cases were reported between 2005 and 2019. Nearly 44 percent of these juveniles remained under trial, while only around 6 percent resulted in convictions, reflecting delays within the juvenile justice system. As of 2021-2022, an estimated 1,400 juveniles were detained in prisons across the country, with 540 in Punjab, 260 in Sindh, 510 in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, and 55 in Balochistan. These figures represent real children whose lives have been shaped by prolonged detention and limited access to legal awareness. These aren’t statistics; they are real lives, trapped, scarred, and left in places no child was ever warned about. When society looks away, the coast is borne by children who face consequences they were never taught to understand.
Those familiar with rehabilitation centers know that many inmates are minors, some as young as eight or thirteen. Some are there due to road accidents, others because of impulsive decisions, substance abuse, or moments of uncontrolled anger. These are not ‘bad children’, but children who were never guided or educated to understand how a single decision could permanently alter their lives.
A crisis ignored by us is still a crisis. Our comfort doesn’t cancel their suffering. Schools, roads, online cafes, playgrounds, markets, and malls are places where kids’ lives actively revolve around. Yet from school corridors to WhatsApp groups to roads and public spaces, the law shapes their everyday lives long before they turn 18. In classrooms across Lahore, a quiet revolution begins with a single question: “Do you know your rights?” It is a question that hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of a reality long ignored. For decades, young Pakistanis have learned formulas, wars, essays, and equations, yet almost none are taught the laws that shape their lives before adulthood.
And we ignore their right of awareness, schools expect parents to teach their kids, and parents are expecting from school, but the question is, who will get this job done? Pakistan cannot afford to ignore this issue any longer.
How can citizens be held accountable under the law when they are never taught what the law is? And how can justice be achieved when ignorance, not intent, becomes the real crime? Kanoon seekho was born from this very confusion.
That’s where Kanoon Seekho steps in; it is not just a project but a solution to the technical errors of the educational system. Co-founded by myself, Asfia Raza, and my brother Sikandar Raza, it is a transformative journey, turning curiosity into clarity and uncertainty into confidence. Not as another lecture or subject, but as a conversation. A space to ask questions, to understand how the law connects to our everyday lives, and to realize that the law isn’t distant, it’s deeply personal. It firmly argues that law isn’t an adult subject. Law shouldn’t feel like a threat; it should feel like a tool you’re allowed to use.
The foundation of Kanoon Seekho is not only educational but ethical. The first Qur’anic revelation begins with “Iqra,” a command to read, understand, and reflect. Islamic scholarship has long emphasized that justice begins with knowledge, and Surah An-Nisa (4:135) urges believers to stand firmly for justice, a responsibility impossible to fulfill without awareness of one’s rights and duties. In this sense, teaching teenagers how to navigate consent, recognize violations, and understand civic obligations aligns with a timeless belief that knowledge is the first shield against injustice. Seen in this light, teaching teenagers how to recognize violations, respect boundaries, and understand civic duties is not merely an educational exercise; it aligns with an Islamic ethic that justice begins with awareness.
Kanoon Seekho workshops break away from traditional lecture-based teaching. Its four to seven session model creates interactive, safe, and engaging spaces where teenagers feel comfortable asking questions. Roleplays simplify consent and digital safety activities, highlight cybercrime risks, a mock parliament explains how laws are made, and storytelling connects rights and responsibilities to real life. The project assumes zero prior legal knowledge, making it accessible for students across different academic and socioeconomic backgrounds and psychological aspects.
The impact of legal awareness initiatives becomes most evident when they move beyond theory and into practice. In this regard, Kanoon Seekho has already begun its on-ground engagement. Awareness sessions under this initiative were conducted at The Educators, Gulberg Campus, as well as at Sanjan Nagar School. The response from students was overwhelmingly positive, marked by enthusiasm, curiosity, and active participation, while the faculty welcomed the initiative as a valuable and timely addition to the educational environment. Encouraged by this response, the Kanoon Seekho aims to expand its outreach to more schools and communities.
If we wish to protect our children, strengthen our institutions, and prevent injustice before it occurs, we must start by learning the law ourselves and teaching it to others. Laws are not meant to intimidate citizens, but to empower them. When legal knowledge remains limited to courtrooms and textbooks, justice becomes distant and selective. Kanoon Seekho envisions a society where understanding the law is not a privilege, but a shared responsibility because an informed citizen is the strongest pillar of justice.
Knowledge of the law is not just power; it is protection, responsibility, and the first step toward a truly just society.