Number of highly skilled Pakistanis leaving country more than doubled in 2023, rising from 20,865 to 45,687
YOUTH BULGE
Late at night in a dusty Lahore apartment, a group of young friends gathers on the floor, their faces dimly lit by their phones. One watches a clip on rising prices, another scrolls through news of political unrest and a third reads about friends leaving the country. They tap, comment, share, but when the videos end, the room goes quiet. No one turns to the other and says, “Let’s do something”. They feel the weight of the crisis, but are unsure how to lift it.
This scene reflects a growing reality in Pakistan, a creeping condition I call ‘passive hopelessness’. Young people are deeply aware of the country’s turmoil: inflation is surging, jobs are scarce, political institutions sway, and many of their peers are leaving for greener pastures. Yet many simply watch from the sidelines, posting reactions but rarely stepping into action.
The roots of this hopelessness are not shallow. According to the Pakistan Economic Survey 2023–24, the overall unemployment rate is 6.3 per cent, yet for youth aged 15–24, it jumps to 11.1 per cent. Millions of young people are trapped in a labour market that does not absorb them, even though they are educated and hopeful.
Meanwhile, the talent drain is accelerating. The number of highly skilled Pakistanis leaving the country more than doubled in 2023, rising from 20,865 to 45,687. According to Geo TV, this exodus spans doctors, engineers, teachers and IT professionals. Many young graduates now see far more promise abroad than at home.
This outflow destroys more than just individual dreams. It hollows out Pakistan’s future. The Jinnah Institute warns that millions of entering workers face a labour market that cannot sustain them; to make matters worse, these discouraged professionals head for other countries. On the ground, this means promising minds are no longer rooted here.
What about civic participation? There is a flicker of engagement: reports like those from PILDAT show youth voter turnout rising in recent elections. But beyond voting, deeper involvement is missing. Many young people limit activism to social media. They ‘like’ and ‘share’, but do not join parties, civic institutions or community movements. The result is a generation that sees but does not act.
This matters. When youth only observe, they give away their agency. Over time, constant watching without doing breeds apathy, frustration and isolation. Young people internalise a narrative that the system is too broken, too corrupt or too inaccessible to change. Their hopes dim. Their energy is exhausted. Their voice becomes a whisper.
Emotionally, this takes a toll. They feel powerless and torn. They study hard but fear they’ll never land a meaningful job. They watch their friends emigrate, wondering if the country they were born in can ever feel like home. The conversation in their WhatsApp groups turns dark -- not just about leaving but about belonging. Many of them carry anxiety, doubt and regret. Some feel they no longer have a future here.
Young people internalise a narrative that the system is too broken, too corrupt or too inaccessible to change. Their hopes dim. Their energy is exhausted
Culturally, Pakistan risks losing not just talent, but identity. The stories of the next generation may be written abroad. When young Pakistanis leave in masse, the child born here but raised elsewhere may not feel the same connection to this soil. Over time, we may suffer not only an economic brain drain but a moral one.
So what hope is there? I believe this silent storm can turn into a powerful tide -- but only if we act, now.
First, we must build sustained youth engagement, not token youth outreach. The government, civil society and private sector should launch deep, long-term programmes: mentorships, internships, boot camps and leadership councils. These must not be superficial, but deeply rooted in empowering youth to shape policy, business and civic life.
Second, we must teach civic and media literacy in schools and universities. Young people need tools to channel their outrage into organisation, their commentary into campaigning, their pain into participation. Understanding how to turn a social post into action is key to lobbying, petitioning, volunteering and protesting safely and effectively.
Third, political parties must open real space for youth. Let them run, let them lead. Bring them into decision-making roles. Let them hold office even when they make mistakes. When young people feel ownership, they will not just watch; they will build.
Fourth, economic reform is urgent. Narrow the skills-job mismatch. Promote technical and vocational education. Invest in industries that can absorb youth. Stabilise inflation so wages are not eaten alive by rising costs. When young people see that working hard at home can pay off, fewer will see emigration as the only option.
Fifth, engage the diaspora. Those who left still care. Create platforms for them to mentor, invest, teach, return, or contribute remotely. Use their brainpower for national renewal. Their longing for home can become a bridge for change.
At the heart of it, Pakistan needs to tell its youth: we hear you, we need you and we are building with you. The young friends in that Lahore room, smartphones in hand, do not have to be passive. They can become architects of a future they believe in.
Passive hopelessness is not a final verdict. It is a crisis of trust and trust, though fragile, can be rebuilt. If the country opens real doors, gives real roles, and invites its youth in with respect, then those midnight scrolls will not just be reactions. They will be ideas in motion. And when that storm breaks, we might find hope rising on the other side.
The writer is a journalist specialising in socio-political analysis and historical perspectives.
