Opinion

No country for young people

By Dr Taha Sabri
September 18, 2025
Representational image of youth in Pakistan. — Pildat/File
Representational image of youth in Pakistan. — Pildat/File

Every few weeks, Pakistan wakes up to another tragic story that reflects the troubled state of its youth. A promising young athlete lost to suicide. A student consumed by substance use. Families grieving children who felt life offered them no way forward.

These are not isolated incidents. These are not isolated cases; they are signs of a deeper crisis quietly spreading across the country. Pakistan’s young people, the largest segment of our population, are struggling under enormous social, economic and psychological pressures.

Over the past three years, as political uncertainty has deepened and the economy has fallen into crisis, those of us working in mental health have witnessed a sharp rise in distress among young people. Fear about the future, frustration at shrinking opportunities, and a sense of helplessness have become everyday realities. Many now believe their lives will not be better than those of their parents. For some, even modest aspirations – owning a home, securing stable work or building a family – feel increasingly out of reach.

Young people are responding to this environment in different ways. Migration has become a defining feature of youth life, with millions of Pakistanis applying for visas, work permits, and asylum. The images of drowned young Pakistanis in the Mediterranean are not distant tragedies, they are the most visible proof of how unlivable conditions at home have become. Others remain but live in a state of paralysis, struggling to cope with rising costs, dwindling opportunities and limited support. In this space, depression, anxiety and unhealthy coping mechanisms such as substance abuse and suicide are becoming all too common. Then there are those who channel their frustration outward, joining protests, movements, or even more troubling forms of action.

In recent times, we have seen anger manifest not only in organised demonstrations but also in everyday life. Street violence, mob attacks and vigilante incidents have become disturbingly frequent, often sparked by anger, rumour or frustration boiling over. On a larger scale, the persistence of insurgencies in some regions reflects how unresolved grievances can harden into cycles of violence. These are not separate from the broader mental health crisis, they are symptoms of a society where young people feel voiceless, cornered and unheard.

Sadly, the usual response to such unrest has been to treat it as a law-and-order issue, with crackdowns that may temporarily push tensions out of sight but do little to resolve them. This risks driving anger underground, where it simmers until it re-emerges in more destructive ways. Unless the underlying despair is addressed, attempts to simply control or contain young people’s frustrations will only deepen the long-term crisis.

It is tempting to think that expanding mental health services alone could solve these problems. Counseling, helplines and awareness campaigns are vital and must be scaled up. But they cannot address the root causes. What we are witnessing is not only illness, but also the psychological toll of living in a society where opportunity is scarce, economic survival is uncertain and voices of the young often feel disregarded. In this context, despair and anger are not personal weaknesses; they are natural responses to systemic pressures.

This is why leadership, especially at the local and institutional level, must act with urgency. Universities, schools and community organisations can create safe spaces for dialogue, embed mental health care into everyday services and encourage young people to see themselves as active partners in shaping their country’s future. Initiatives that link empowerment with well-being already exist, but they remain too small and scattered to reach the scale required. We need a coordinated effort to recognise that youth mental health is not a side issue but central to Pakistan’s stability and prosperity.

This year, as we celebrate freedom, we must ask ourselves what freedom means to our young people today. Is it freedom when they feel forced to migrate in search of dignity? Is it freedom when despair drives them to take their own lives, to join mobs, or to fall into destructive cycles of violence? True independence must mean more than the absence of colonial rule; it must mean the presence of justice, opportunity and hope for the next generation.

Pakistan is standing at a critical crossroads. If we fail to listen to our young people and respond to their needs, we risk losing not just individuals but the very future of the country. The anger and despair we see today cannot be wished away; it must be met with compassion, opportunity and genuine reform.

The choice before us is clear: either we begin to nurture our young people with hope and opportunity, or we prepare to be consumed by the flames of their despair.


The writer is a public mental health expert and co-founder of Taskeen Health Initiative.