Against the Current: The Fight to Lead Change as a Young Pakistani
Growing up in Pakistan, I have always been surrounded by young people bursting with ideas, energy and an unshakable will to make a difference. We have stayed up late planning community projects, squeezing volunteer work between university assignments and work and searching for skill building and professional development opportunities to apply into. But beneath these bursts of energy lies something else, the struggle. The kind of quiet, persistent struggle that too often goes unnoticed.
This blog is a reflection on what drives Pakistan’s youth, the systemic obstacles they face and how we can collectively build a future where their potential isn’t just recognized but actively supported.
2 months ago, I designed an online survey called “Your Voice as a Young Changemaker”, shared it with my fellows and heard directly from 30 young Pakistanis across different regions. Their responses echoed my own experiences: a burning desire to create change, tangled with frustration at the countless invisible hurdles in our way. What I found wasn't surprising but it was deeply personal.
While doing a ‘gratitude and growth mindset limiting’ exercise with the young girls, alongside my co-mentors Asma and Nazmina, as part of the Rahber mentorship program.
When I asked what drives them, many spoke of personal experiences about small, intimate moments that became their reason for stepping up. One story stayed with me: a young man from Karachi who organized a digital literacy workshop in his community. He looked into the crowd mid-session and caught his mother’s proud smile. “That small moment,” he told me, “reminded me again why I do this.”
And I get it. So many of us are fueled by these tiny sparks like the teacher who believed in us and encouraged us to explore, the friend who pushed us forward to apply for an opportunity or the parent whose quiet pride gave us strength when we wanted to give up. We do this because we have to, because we’ve seen the cracks in the system and we can’t unsee them. But for every story as such, there are countless others that never get told, stories of young people hitting wall after wall before they even get started.
One of the biggest challenges we face is the lack of financial resources. More than half the people I spoke to said financial constraints are their number one barrier. A 22 year old girl I met at a training program who had founded her youth-led organization told me “Applying for grants feels like climbing a mountain barefoot”. It’s true as the forms are filled with jargon often only meant for registered organizations (which itself is a marathon process in Pakistan and takes years), and far out of reach for passionate youth in their 20s with no institutional backing. I often wonder: how many brilliant ideas have died just because the forms had so many cumbersome requirements?
What shocked me the most was that even after registering, the struggles for youth-led organizations don’t stop, they just change form. While speaking to a young changemaker trying to register his youth-led organization, I was struck by the sheer exhaustion in his voice. "It’s been a year and a half," he said, "and our organizational bank account still isn’t functional." He went on to share the countless hurdles: vague procedures, unresponsive banking staff and layers of bureaucratic scrutiny that seem designed to wear you down. Even after registration, the process doesn’t get easier as it often involves bribes, paperwork that changes without notice and a system that clearly is not built for young people trying to lead. It made me think: how can we expect youth to lead change when the very system that should support them makes even opening a bank account feel like a battle?
“While interacting with a group of Grade 8 girls at The Citizens Foundation (Taxila Campus) as part of the ‘Rahber’ volunteer program, a mentorship initiative aimed at nurturing leadership skills in young students.”
Then there’s the mentorship gap. One young respondent shared, “We have ideas, but where do we even go?” And that hit me, because I remember feeling the same way and that is the reason I am so grateful to people whose mentorship has shaped my path in so many meaningful ways. The people who took time to say, “You’ve got this” or connected me to an opportunity when I least expected it, they’re part of the reason I have continued to grow.
And of course, there’s the societal pushback. I’ve lost count of how many times I have heard from youngsters being told, “Focus on your studies, activism or community development work won’t get you anywhere.” That kind of dismissal doesn’t just sting, it silences.
And it’s even harder if you’re from a rural area. While city youth can join online sessions, visit co-working spaces or attend workshops, rural youth often have no internet, limited transport and very little access to such opportunities. I remember talking to a bright girl from my village who wanted to start a girls' skills circle. “But how do I compete,” she asked, “with those who have everything at their doorstep?” Her question still sits heavy in my mind.
And then there’s the big one: political disillusionment. The system feels too broken, and too corrupt. Many young people I spoke to just shrugged and said, “Why bother?” In regions like Khyber Pakhtunkhwa or Balochistan, activism can even be dangerous. You begin to censor yourself before anyone else does.
And yet, we don’t stop. We draw murals on broken walls. We turn to Instagram reels, make short films, organize diversity tours, write about our challenges, we host community dialogues in makeshift rooms and so much more. We do what we can, because we must.
But imagine what could happen if we weren’t always swimming against the tide?
What if we had long-term mentors instead of just one-off workshops? What if we could access flexible and adaptive seed funding programs and receive capacity support tailored to our unique regional contexts? What if we had safe spaces to talk, truly talk without being mocked or dismissed? And what if more young people from underserved communities could access tools to amplify their stories like video editing, data storytelling, even AI-based content creation?
I’ve seen the power of even the smallest support; the girl who traveled for hours to attend a workshop, the boy who stood up for a religious minority in his neighborhood. That’s why I always say: don’t try to walk ahead of young people. Walk beside us. Ask us what we need. Sit with us. Build with us.
To every young changemaker reading this: Your voice matters. Your effort counts. Even when it feels slow, even when no one claps, know this: you are planting seeds. And someday, they’ll bloom in ways you can’t even imagine. Let’s keep going.
Acknowledgment:
A heartfelt thank you to the inspiring young girls from The Citizens Foundation (Amir Begum and Daulat Hussain,Taxila Campus) who kindly appeared in the photo, and to every young person who shared their stories, struggles and hopes with me. This reflection wouldn’t be possible without your courage and honesty.
