As someone who has spent decades in both Pakistani and Norwegian society, I find myself carrying stories. Not only my own, but others’ stories have left me in tears, frustration, or quiet.
Many of these stories share one thing: Barnevernet. For those who are unfamiliar, Barnevernet is Norway’s child welfare system. Its claimed mission is to safeguard children against abuse and neglect. A worthy goal. But for many immigrant families, particularly those from cultures similar to ours, it has become a cause of anxiety, division, and trauma.
I’ve spent years doing community service and much longer behind the microphone as a radio host. Love, faith, and resilience have transformed lives, but misunderstanding has ruined them. I remember one father telling me, “They took my daughter because I told her to listen to her mother.” They called me controlling.” He cried and stated, “I’m not abusive. “I’m just a father who wanted respect in the home.” Parenting in many Pakistani homes involves a stern tone, emotional engagement, and compliance requirements. Tarbiyyah, or spiritual and emotional nurturing of a child, is included in our understanding of love, along with structure, values, and correction. It isn’t always soft or smiling, but it is genuine. It is a love that makes sacrifices and punishes not out of wrath, but out of great concern.
However, when this parenting is read via a Western perspective, particularly one unfamiliar with our culture, it might appear harsh. What is the end result? Families have been probed. The children were removed. People’s reputations have been damaged. Perhaps most difficult is a youngster placed in foster care with individuals who do not speak their language, do not eat their food, and do not comprehend their deen (religion).
And, to be clear, when a child is abducted, it is not only the child who suffers. It is the entire family. Mothers experience emotional breakdowns. Fathers have lost their sense of purpose. Siblings experience fear. The silence at the dinner table grows intolerable. The once-life-filled mansion has become a shadow of grief. Some may wonder, “But don’t children need protection?” Yes, of course. No child should ever be abused. But the question remains: is cultural misunderstanding misinterpreted for abuse? Is discipline automatically classified as dangerous because it does not conform to the Norwegian ideal? This is not a request to excuse serious harm. It is a warning to be cautious — to consider context before punishing.
In our society, raising one’s voice does not imply aggression. A fixed bedtime is not persecution. A youngster being taught respect does not imply that the child is crushed. I believe it is feasible to safeguard children without breaking up families. But for that, we want humility, particularly from institutions. Barnevernet should include cultural advisors, religious liaisons, and persons who understand the complexities of South Asian and Muslim parenting. We require a shift in mindset—from mistrust to conversation. We also need our own community to speak up – with decency, clarity, and fearlessness. Staying silent while others suffer permits the system to run unchecked. If one of us is mistreated today, it could happen to any of us tomorrow.
Some families will never recover from what has transpired. Children grow up resenting or forgetting their parents. Parents age with damaged hearts, never finding closure. This is a serious wound in our community, and we need to stop pretending it doesn’t exist. We deserve to raise our children with love, faith, and discipline, as long as the affection is not harmful.
However, we deserve to be protected from being misunderstood. from being stereotyped. From being treated unfairly. I don’t profess to know all the answers. But I do know that listening is important. Empathy is very important. And no system that destroys families in the name of protection can genuinely claim to be just.
Let us begin this discourse as voices of reason, rather than as victims. Let us demand reform with intelligence, not rage. Above all, let us stand together for our families, our children, and a more empathetic Norway.
