In the decades since Shah Bano Begum’s legal fight for alimony upended India’s approach to marital law, her name has become synonymous with the clash between secular statutes and religious personal law. Now, with the release of the Netflix film Haq in January 2026, the story has returned to the national spotlight—sparking renewed debate, family anguish, and a re-examination of the real people behind the case that changed Indian legal history.
Shah Bano, a Muslim woman from Indore, Madhya Pradesh, found herself at the heart of a legal and political storm in the 1980s. Her battle began when her husband, Mohammed Ahmed Khan, divorced her in 1979 following conflicts between his two wives. Left to fend for herself at the age of 60, Shah Bano suffered from deteriorating health, including high blood pressure, and found herself abandoned not just emotionally but financially as well. According to BollywoodShaadis, her youngest son, Jamil Ahmed Khan, remembered, “My mother was devastated after she was divorced at the age of 60.”
With little support from her former husband, Shah Bano embarked on a grueling seven-year legal journey, seeking maintenance under Section 125 of India’s Code of Criminal Procedure—a secular law ensuring support for wives unable to maintain themselves. The case escalated from local courts to the Supreme Court of India, culminating in a 1985 verdict in her favor. The ruling was hailed as a milestone for women’s rights in India, affirming that a divorced Muslim woman could claim maintenance beyond the Iddat period (a 90-day post-divorce waiting period under Islamic law).
The Supreme Court’s decision, however, sparked a national uproar. Religious leaders and conservative politicians decried what they saw as an intrusion into Muslim Personal Law, while women’s rights advocates celebrated a rare legal victory for gender justice. The Congress government, seeking to quell unrest, enacted the Muslim Women (Protection of Rights on Divorce) Act in 1986. This law, as reported by BollywoodShaadis, sharply limited a husband’s liability for maintenance to the Iddat period. After the Act’s passage, Shah Bano’s husband ceased the Rs. 179 monthly allowance he had promised, leaving her in further financial distress.
Years later, in 2001, Shah Bano’s lawyer, Danial Latifi, challenged the restrictive 1986 Act. The Supreme Court ultimately reaffirmed its earlier stance, but tragically, Shah Bano had died in 1992—never knowing that the law had swung back in her favor. Her story, however, continued to resonate, inspiring books, films, and ongoing legal reforms, including the 2019 prohibition of Triple Talaq in India.
The Netflix film Haq, directed by Suparn S. Varma and starring Yami Gautam as Shazia Bano (a fictionalized version of Shah Bano), has reignited public interest in the case. The movie, which became available for streaming on January 2, 2026 after a successful theatrical run in November 2025, dramatizes the decade-long struggle of a woman abandoned by her husband—played by Emraan Hashmi—who seeks justice in a system stacked against her. Haq explores the collision of personal and secular law, the role of education and resilience, and the complex humanity of both the victim and the accused.
Much of the film is set in the 1970s and 1980s in Aligarh, where Shazia’s family life unravels after her husband remarries. The character of Advocate Bela Jain, played by Sheeba Chaddha, is a composite inspired by Shah Bano’s real-life lawyer, Danial Latifi, whose efforts secured a Supreme Court victory. As True Scoop notes, Latifi was a renowned Indian lawyer educated at Oxford and called to the Bar at Gray’s Inn, London—though the film uses a fictional name for dramatic effect.
The movie does not shy away from the legal and emotional complexities of the case. Abbas Khan, Shazia’s husband, argues that secular courts have no authority over matters governed by faith, while Shazia counters by highlighting the selective application of religious law. The courtroom drama builds to a powerful Supreme Court verdict: all citizens, regardless of religion, are subject to Section 125 of the CrPC, and a husband’s duty to support his divorced wife continues if she cannot support herself—even after the Iddat period. The film’s climax, as described in BollywoodShaadis, is less about money and more about dignity, voice, and the “right” (haq) to be heard and respected.
But the renewed attention has come at a personal cost to Shah Bano’s surviving family. Her children—three sons (Hamid Ahmed Khan, Saeed Ahmed Khan, and Jamil Ahmed Khan) and two daughters (Siddiqua Begum Khan and Fatima)—have largely kept a low profile in the years since the case. The eldest son, Hamid, worked as a technical assistant in a textile mill and has since passed away. The youngest, Jamil, served as a branch manager at Citizen Urban Cooperative Bank and was a key supporter of his mother during her legal ordeal. According to BollywoodShaadis, Jamil continues to struggle with financial hardship and unwanted public attention.
Of the daughters, Siddiqua Begum Khan is reported to be Shah Bano’s only legal heir as of January 2026. In 2025, she filed a legal challenge against the release of Haq, citing factual inaccuracies and the painful revival of family trauma. “The family, who mostly keeps a low profile, has recently come under the spotlight after speaking out against the Suparn S. Varma-directed film, Haq,” BollywoodShaadis reports. The status of the second daughter, Fatima, remains unknown; she was married during the original legal battle, and no recent information is available.
In the wake of the film’s release, viewers have also wondered about the fate of Mohammed Ahmed Khan, the man who set the legal saga in motion. According to Hindustan Times (as cited by El Balad), he died in Indore on April 4, 2006, at the age of 94, after suffering from a high fever. After divorcing Shah Bano, Ahmed Khan married a woman 14 years his junior, and his relationship with his children from his first marriage became strained. Jamil Ahmad recalled that their father neglected them following his remarriage, deepening the emotional wounds of the family.
While Haq has been praised for its nuanced portrayal of the legal battle and the resilience of its protagonist, it has also sparked conversations about the responsibilities of filmmakers when dramatizing real-life trauma. The film’s decision to end with the Supreme Court verdict—rather than delve into the political fallout of the 1986 Act—keeps the focus on individual justice and the slow, hard-won progress of legal reform in India.
Today, the legacy of Shah Bano’s struggle endures, not just in the statutes and courtrooms of India, but in the ongoing debates about faith, gender, and the meaning of justice. Her story—and that of her family—remains a testament to the power of ordinary people to reshape the law, even when the personal cost is heartbreakingly high.
