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A microscopic view of the youth bulge will reveal its fractures. Whether it’s a girl jumping from a hostel balcony, a candidate sobbing on the bench outside the classroom, a boy locking himself in before an exam, a bright student disappearing into silence or someone escaping reality with drugs — all of these point towards the most urgent question: are our young people well?
Pakistan is one of the youngest countries in the world. Two-thirds of our population is under 30. Nearly 63 million are between 15 and 29. This generation will define Pakistan’s economic productivity, political stability and social cohesion. But these statistics are plagued by the mental health crisis.
Today’s Pakistani student grows up in a climate of relentless pressure. Academic competition is brutal. University admissions are scarce. Scholarships are limited. Jobs are fewer still. Every year, millions enter a labour market that cannot absorb them.
The World Bank estimates that over a third of those aged 15 to 24 are not in employment, education or training. Gallup data shows millions of young people are neither studying nor working. For those who are studying, the anxiety is suffocating: what if there is no job at the end of it?
Parents invest life savings into tuition while pinning their social mobility on one child’s grades. In such an environment, failure is not merely academic; it is existential. The result is a generation that is restless, agitated and often very angry — not because they lack ambition, but because their aspirations collide with structural barriers.
Furthermore, digital connectivity masks profound emotional isolation. Three in five Pakistani youth use the internet; almost all of them are on social media. Social media amplifies comparison. It creates curated illusions of success. It turns every peer’s achievement into a reminder of one’s own perceived inadequacy. For students already struggling with self-worth, this is combustible fuel.
Universities, meanwhile, often lack structured counselling services. School systems focus on grades, not emotional resilience. Conversations about depression or anxiety are still dismissed as weakness, drama or “lack of faith”.
The current broader political environment seeps into mental health as the institutions appear unresponsive and opportunities are shrinking. Hence, Gen Z sees unpredictability around it and will internalise that instability.
Mental health services in public universities remain grossly inadequate. Most campuses lack full-time psychologists. Faculty are rarely trained to identify early warning signs. Helplines are underpublicised or underfunded. School curricula seldom teach coping mechanisms, emotional literacy or stress management.
The University of Lahore is the one taking the lead now in addressing the mental health problems of the students. The Chairman, Mr Awais Raoof, has not only revamped the entire campus with additional safety protections but has also dedicated a complete department dealing with the mental health issues of students. Other universities should learn from this vision, as a majority of the country’s future workforce is currently in classrooms. Student mental health is not a peripheral issue; it is a national security and economic stability concern.
Mental health services must be institutionalised across universities and colleges — not as token offices, but as properly staffed, confidential and accessible departments. Teacher training should include basic psychological first aid. Educators are often the first to notice behavioural changes. The state must recognise that economic reform is mental health reform. Job creation, transparent recruitment and predictable policy environments reduce uncertainty — and uncertainty is a powerful driver of anxiety. We must dismantle stigma. Faith and therapy are not opposites.
Lastly, domestic violence, failed marriages, parents’ separations and seeing their parents being emotional islands under the same roof also erode their emotional and mental health. But let it be a topic for another day.
