Why Are Pakistan’s Youth Dreaming Abroad Instead of Building at Home?

In a cramped Faisalabad café, Usman, a 24-year-old computer science graduate, scrolls through visa ads on his phone. “Yahan kuch nahi banta,” he sighs, his degree gathering dust as he drives a Careem to pay rent.

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In a cramped Faisalabad café, Usman, a 24-year-old computer science graduate, scrolls through visa ads on his phone. “Yahan kuch nahi banta,” he sighs, his degree gathering dust as he drives a Careem to pay rent. Pakistan’s youth, 65% of its 240 million souls, should be its engine—coders, entrepreneurs, teachers. Instead, many like Usman feel sidelined, their dreams drifting to Dubai or Toronto. With unemployment biting and opportunities scarce, the Shehbaz Sharif-led PML-N government faces a crisis: why are Pakistan’s brightest minds fleeing rather than forging a future here? The awam’s youth need jobs, not just jargon.

The numbers sting. Youth unemployment hovers at 9.5%, but underemployment—graduates in dead-end gigs—pushes the real toll closer to 20%, per ILO estimates. In 2024, 2.3 million Pakistanis, mostly under 30, left for foreign jobs, a 15% spike from 2022, says the Bureau of Emigration. Only 600,000 formal jobs were added last year against 1.8 million new workforce entrants, leaving 1.2 million scrambling. Small businesses, which employ 80% of non-farm workers, grew just 3%, choked by 24% lending rates. Tech startups, a potential lifeline, number 2,000—India’s got 100,000—stifled by taxes and red tape. The result? A brain drain bleeding Pakistan’s promise.

The PML-N’s response feels like a misjudged cut shot. Their 2024 budget threw Rs600 billion at highways and dams, but only Rs80 billion for youth schemes—half of it unspent, per Finance Ministry data. The Prime Minister’s Youth Program, touting laptops and loans, reached 200,000 kids—barely 0.5% of the 40 million aged 15-29. Skills training? A patchwork of 400 centers, graduating 50,000 yearly against a need for 1 million, says UNDP. Small businesses face 18% sales tax, scaring off startups, while tech hubs like Islamabad’s NIC incubate 300 firms, not the 3,000 needed. The government crows about “stability,” but for Usman, stability means a job, not a presser.

This isn’t just economic—it’s a moral betrayal. Pakistan’s youth aren’t cogs; they’re the spark of progress. It’s wrong to let a generation rot in berozgari ka daldal when they could code apps, launch brands, or teach kids. The PML-N, with its roots in Punjab’s industrious heart, should feel this duty—to empower, not exile. When 60% of graduates lack market skills, per World Bank, and 1.5 million apply for 20,000 government jobs, frustration festers. Every visa stamped for a coder or nurse is a verdict on leaders who build roads but not futures. The awam’s kids deserve tools, not taunts.

Here’s a question to light up X (share it!): “Why must Pakistan’s youth beg abroad when they could build here?” The fix demands action, not ads. First, turbocharge small businesses and tech startups. Slash sales tax to 10% for firms under Rs50 million in revenue—80% of Pakistan’s 3.3 million SMEs. Offer Rs20 billion in zero-interest loans for 50,000 startups, copying Rwanda’s SME boom. Build 10 tech parks—Lahore, Karachi, Peshawar—with free Wi-Fi and tax breaks, aiming for 5,000 new firms by 2027. When a Sialkot tailor or Quetta coder gets cash and space, jobs bloom—500,000 in three years, if scaled right.

Second, invest in skills and education—it’s a moral must. Triple training centers to 1,200, targeting 500,000 graduates yearly in AI, welding, or nursing. Partner with Coursera for free coding courses—100,000 slots, online, in Urdu. Revamp 2,000 colleges with Rs50 billion, adding labs and job fairs, as India’s skill push shows. Subsidize apprenticeships—Rs15,000 monthly—for 200,000 youth in factories and IT hubs. Skills aren’t charity; they’re power. A trained kid in Gujrat or Gwadar doesn’t just earn—she lifts her family.

Third, spotlight success to shame inaction. Pakistan’s youth aren’t idle—take Careem’s 1 million drivers, many ex-graduates like Usman, or Bazaar’s $70 million raise, built by Karachi twentysomethings. Fund 1,000 such ventures with Rs10 billion via a “Youth Innovate” grant, showcased on a public portal—names, stories, results. When a Larkana girl’s app or a Kohat boy’s solar kit goes viral, it’s a jab at leaders to match their hustle. Innovation isn’t luck—it’s policy.

This isn’t a whine—it’s a wake-up, rooted in Pakistan’s fire. We’ve leapt from 1947’s chaos to nuclear strength—youth can do more. Picture a nation where Usman codes in Lahore, not Dubai; where cafés hum with startups, not visa laments. The PML-N can spark this, but only if they trade ribbon-cuttings for real bets—on SMEs, skills, and stories. Tax less, train more, cheer louder. The awam’s kids don’t want handouts—they want a shot.

Pakistan’s youth are ready to bat. Will the government bowl them chances or bouncers? That’s what The News’s readers—grads, parents, traders, coders—demand to know. Not in schemes, but in jobs they can claim.

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Writer is an Assistant Professor at Iqra National University, with experience in academia and public health. With a commitment to addressing pressing societal issues, he has contributed on platforms like Mukaalama.
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