Healer of Society’s Wounds
Dr Samia Syed Tariq
Shariq Ali
Valueversity
It is August 2023 in Karachi.
A new medical unit is about to be inaugurated in a section of Dr Ruth Pfau Civil Hospital. Its purpose is not to treat any physical illness.
Those who will come here are not wounded by disease, but by social tragedy.
This is the establishment of Pakistan’s first Anti-Rape Crisis Cell.
Among those present that day, one woman doctor stands out. For her, this is not merely the opening of a new institution. Behind this moment lie nearly twenty-five years of her life: countless medico-legal examinations, post-mortems, appearances in court, and encounters with people who have suffered sexual and domestic violence.
Her name is Dr Samia Syed Tariq.
Here, perhaps, is another practical answer to the question: Who is a healer?
We usually think of a healer as a doctor who diagnoses an illness, prescribes medicine, or saves a life through surgery.
But what if society itself is ill? What if the social fabric is wounded? If violence, injustice, prejudice and indifference are not diseases and wounds, then what are they?
Some exceptional and courageous doctors have the resolve to step forward and treat these wounds as well.
Dr Samia graduated with an MBBS from Dow Medical College in 1996. A few years later, her professional journey took her into an area of medicine that many young doctors might find particularly difficult to enter:
Forensic and medico-legal medicine.
Here, the line of patients is unlike that of an ordinary clinic.
Sometimes there is a woman who has suffered violence; sometimes a child who has endured sexual abuse; and sometimes a silent body from which the truth about a murder or suicide must be discovered. The doctor must read the marks left on the body, preserve the evidence, and sometimes stand in court to become the voice of that evidence.
Dr Samia chose this difficult world as her professional life.
She later obtained a Diploma in Medical Jurisprudence and also pursued formal education in bioethics. This combination — science, law and ethics — would eventually become the defining feature of her work.
During the early years of her medico-legal career, she too participated in an outdated examination used in sexual assault cases: the two-finger test. At the time, it was considered a routine part of the medico-legal system.
Then knowledge advanced.
It became increasingly clear that the test lacked a sound scientific basis and could not reliably establish whether a woman had been sexually assaulted. More importantly, it could further violate the dignity of a woman who had already suffered trauma.
Dr Samia changed her own practice and spoke out against this outdated method. She also trained other medico-legal doctors on the issue. In doing so, she became an advocate for a system that was both more scientific and more respectful of human dignity.
There is an important lesson here for every doctor.
The dignity of knowledge lies in having the courage to change our old ways when better evidence emerges.
With time, her work was no longer confined to the examination room.
She entered the courts, participated in the training of judges and doctors, contributed to medico-legal reforms in Sindh, and became involved in work related to the practical implementation of the Anti-Rape Act 2021. When required, she also offered expert opinion to the courts as amicus curiae — a friend and adviser to the court.
In 2022, she was appointed Police Surgeon Karachi.
More important than the position itself was the change in thinking that emerged through her work:
Why should a woman who has suffered sexual violence have to go to one place for a medical examination, another to contact the police, and then somewhere else to seek legal and psychological support? Why not create a system in which the state brings all these services together around her?
That idea took practical form in 2023 with the establishment of Pakistan’s first Anti-Rape Crisis Cell at Dr Ruth Pfau Civil Hospital Karachi.
It was not merely a room. It was the declaration of a new approach:
The survivor should not have to run after the system. The system should gather around the survivor to provide support.
Dr Samia’s journey did not stop there.
She contributed to the training of a new generation of medico-legal officers. Her work extended into the judiciary, where she became involved in training judges to understand medico-legal and forensic evidence. Her academic work has also been presented in forensic and medico-legal circles beyond Pakistan.
Research continued alongside her practical work.
Her name appeared in research studies addressing issues such as suicide, deaths caused by stray bullets, and the impact of helmet use in motorcycle accidents.
Her journey then turned towards another particularly vulnerable group: children.
In 2026, the establishment of child-friendly medico-legal clinics began in Karachi, with the aim of ensuring that children who have suffered violence or abuse would no longer have to undergo examinations in a cold and intimidating environment that might deepen their trauma.
The new Anti-Rape Crisis Cell at Dr Ruth Pfau Civil Hospital also became an important part of this wider mission.
The wounds of society run deep.
Some wounds lie within the law.
Some within institutions.
Some within traditions.
And some within our collective attitudes.
Perhaps one of the most beautiful definitions of medicine is this:
Wherever there is human suffering, healing, in one form or another, must be present.
