When I read that Kazakhstan had finally criminalised forced marriage this year, I felt a familiar mix of hope and concern. Hope, because the new Article 125-1 of the Criminal Code, “Coercion to marriage”, at last recognises that forcing someone into marriage is a crime under what many now call the Kazakhstan forced marriage law. Concern, because I know from experience that changing the law is only the beginning, not the end, of protecting those at risk.
Under Kazakhstan’s new article, coercing someone into marriage or cohabitation can now lead to a fine, corrective labour, restrictions on liberty or a prison term of up to two years. Where there is violence, the involvement of minors, multiple offenders or abuse of an official position, the sentence can rise as high as ten years. The reform also closes an old loophole that allowed kidnappers to escape punishment if they released the victim without committing another crime.
Kazakhstan is not alone. In recent years Pakistan has introduced a new child marriage restraint law for the Islamabad Capital Territory, raising protections for girls in the federal capital, while the province of Balochistan has passed its own child marriage law that sets 18 as the minimum age for marriage and criminalises those who arrange child marriages. These reforms are important signals that forced and child marriage are no longer being treated as private matters, but as abuses that belong in the criminal law.
On paper, these steps look exactly like what human rights campaigners have demanded for years. They align with international standards that treat forced marriage as a slavery like practice, including the Palermo Protocol, the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW), and the 1956 Supplementary Convention on the Abolition of Slavery, the Slave Trade, and Institutions and Practices Similar to Slavery.
The global picture, however, is more complicated, and far more worrying. Forced marriage and child marriage remain widespread, and are increasingly recognised as forms of forced marriage modern slavery that move out of sight when the law tightens.
These are some of the realities that should shape any serious discussion.
These are not abstract numbers. They describe a global system in which girls are still traded, controlled and silenced, often under the language of culture or honour.
I spent many years campaigning for forced marriage to become a criminal offence in England and Wales. When that finally happened, it was a crucial moment. It sent a clear signal that forcing someone into marriage is not a family matter. It is a crime.
Kazakhstan’s new law does something similar. It states clearly that “coercion to marriage” is a criminal act, with penalties that reflect the harm involved. It also removes the possibility of escaping liability simply by letting a victim go.
However, law on its own is never enough. In my work through Freedom Charity I have seen how quickly perpetrators adapt. If a formal ceremony looks risky, families arrange an informal union at home. If officials ask more questions at a registry office, arrangements move into private spaces or overseas.
Forced and child marriage do not simply disappear when a law is passed. They change shape.
The most recent analysis from Plan International makes this very clear. Its 2025 State of the World’s Girls report focuses on child marriage and documents the experiences of more than 250 girls and young women from 15 countries.
Several findings should concern all of us. Many of the girls interviewed are already mothers, often with limited access to healthcare. Most are not in education, employment or training, which locks them out of future opportunities. Large age gaps between husbands and wives create severe power imbalances.
Crucially, the research highlights how social media and messaging platforms are being used to arrange and conceal marriages, which makes them less visible to authorities.
At the same time, Save the Children’s Global Girlhood analysis estimates that in countries classed as fragile a girl is married every 30 seconds, and that around 32 million adolescent girls are living in these fragility and child marriage hotspots.
In other words, some countries are strengthening their laws, while the practice itself is moving out of sight, into informal, unregistered and digital spaces. That is where any serious safeguarding strategy now has to operate.
Through Freedom Charity I have been contacted by children who were hours away from boarding a plane to be married abroad, by teachers who sensed that something was wrong, and by professionals who were unsure if they had enough evidence to act.
Working on these cases has shown me how language can hide abuse. For years the term “honour based violence” was used to describe forced marriage, so called honour killings and related abuses. In my experience, that term gave cover to perpetrators. There is no honour in threats, coercion or violence.
That is why I began to use, and still argue for, the term “dishonour abuse” instead. It describes what is really happening. The community does not gain honour from these acts. It loses it.
Some of the cases that stay with me are those where there was only a narrow window to act and no one felt able to take it. A teacher did not want to offend a family. A professional worried that they might be accused of cultural insensitivity. A young person did not know that forced marriage was a crime or that help existed.
Those gaps are where forced marriage survives, even in countries that have strong laws on the statute book.
International standards are clear. The Palermo Protocol on trafficking, CEDAW and the Supplementary Slavery Convention all recognise that practices such as forced and child marriage can amount to slavery or slavery like institutions when they involve control, exploitation and the denial of basic rights.
In practical terms, this means that forced marriage is not simply a cultural issue or a private family matter. It is a serious human rights abuse. It can involve the sale or exchange of a girl for money, status or migration advantage. It often involves removal from education and confinement to the home. It can expose girls and young women to rape, domestic violence and repeated pregnancy at an early age.
When we frame forced marriage as modern slavery, we are not using dramatic language. We are describing the level of control and harm that too many girls and women still endure.
If we are serious about ending forced and child marriage, several things have to happen at the same time.
First, every country needs a clear minimum age of 18 for marriage, with no exceptions. Loopholes based on parental consent, religious law or customary practice are routinely exploited.
Second, victim identification and referral must improve, especially for those at greatest risk. This includes girls in fragile and conflict affected settings, migrant communities, informal labour sectors and those who are already out of school.
Third, technology companies need to accept their responsibilities. Digital platforms are now part of the problem when they host closed groups or private channels that are used to arrange forced and child marriages. Companies should be working with experts and governments to detect patterns of abuse, support safe reporting routes and prevent their tools being used to organise exploitation.
Fourth, survivors need long term support, not only short term rescue. Leaving or escaping a forced marriage is not the end of the story. Survivors need safe housing, education, trauma informed care and realistic economic options. Without this, many are pushed back into harmful situations.
Finally, boys and men must be part of the solution. Through Freedom Charity’s work with schools and communities I have seen that when boys are given the tools to question harmful norms, many choose not to repeat them. Campaigns that invite boys to say “not in my name” to forced marriage and so called honour based abuse can help to shift attitudes over time.
Kazakhstan’s decision to criminalise forced marriage is a real step forward. It sends a message that coercion into marriage is no longer tolerated or ignored. Pakistan’s national and provincial reforms, and the law in Balochistan in particular, show that other countries are starting to treat child marriage as a crime that can be prosecuted, not a tradition that must be excused.
If there is one lesson I would share from my years of campaigning, it is this. Law is vital, but it is not the final measure of success. The real test is whether the girl who is about to be taken out of school, the girl who is being pressured online, or the girl who has already been married off in secret, is actually safer.
Until the answer to that question is yes, in Kazakhstan, in Pakistan, in the UK and across the world, we still have work to do.
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Balochistan Child Marriages Restraint Act 2025 Provincial law: minimum marriage age 18. Cognisable, non-bailable, non-compoundable offences. Forced marriage is child abuse. The shame lies with the perpetrator, not the child.