Overseas-istan

“Pakistan’s brain drain wave is escalating at a staggering pace, with emigration surging from 225,000 in 2021 to a massive 13.53 million by 2024.”

Muna Khan 

 December 14, 2025

DAWN

‘TIS the season for family members to visit and drive everyone crazy about how nothing works in Pakistan. Of course, we love our families and we look forward to their visit, but their moaning can grate on one’s nerves. I am speaking specifically about the adults who lived in Pakistan, even as youngsters, before they migrated to better shores. They struggle with everything that is wrong here, whereas we have learned to live with this strange inertia, this weird brokenness that is our country.

We know why it is broken and who doesn’t want to fix it, so we don’t complain because we know what will happen in seven to 14 years.

But our overseas peers arrive in the country in a state of frustration. This ups the ante — maybe, we feel both defensive and resentful of their attitudes. Maybe, they dislike the fact that we don’t understand how hard they have it in Mississauga, for example. You’ll always see micro-aggressions at family events. Each side has a sense of entitlement about leaving or staying in the country that the other finds unbearable.

I recently witnessed this on a flight back to Pakistan where a fight broke out between passengers — a man and woman — which even the cabin crew was unable to resolve. I think it was over a pillow, or a seat reclining too far. The point isn’t the argument in itself, it was in the ‘shouty’ attitude each person exhibited. We were embarrassed, watching them from across the aisle.

I realised it was about a need to seek attention, to feel heard, to feel their voice matters. Whatever was going on between those two was, in essence, a microcosm of all of Pakistan’s ills. One woman told my sister on her flight from Dubai that there was no justice in Pakistan because she could not find space in the overhead cabin of the plane to store her carry-on.


Our overseas peers arrive in the country in a state of frustration.

I know that I am being quite harsh on a group that keeps this country afloat with their remittances. In October, these remittances reached a record high for the current fiscal year, according to a report by the State Bank of Pakistan.

Pakistanis are desperate to leave because they see no hope here. I have been that person several times but something always pulls me back in. I don’t count because I have many privileges but I empathise with those who want to escape. In his article for ‘Prism’ earlier this year, Eric Shahzar wrote: “Pakistan’s brain drain wave is escalating at a staggering pace, with emigration surging from 225,000 in 2021 to a massive 13.53 million by 2024.”

It’s strange the brain drain has been devastating to our economy but the remittances bring us gains.

On a more positive note, I am fascinated by overseas children’s love for Pakistan. They are not perturbed by the broken roads, the dirt and dust, the gas shortage, the late-night weddings, etc. Their only frustration is the illnesses they contract five minutes into their arrival because it keeps them away from being out and about in the cities they love with cousins, etc. Their sense of identity may be all over the place but their affinity with Pakistan is clear. And I love that about them.

It brings me to an important lesson taught by our family friend Sonya’s young teenage daughter Sasha, an avid singer with an impressive competitive record in the US. Her mother was driving Sasha to a competition an hour away from their home when their car was T-boned by a deer, who came out of nowhere. Sasha saw the deer bounding, its face against her window, then its antler piercing the glass. The car’s windows shattered onto both women, covering them in shards.

After the initial shock and calling the relevant authorities, a school mum came to help and offered to take Sasha to the venue so that she could be with her friends for care and comfort. Sonya agreed as she had to wait for the police and deal with the paperwork. Once all the formalities were done and Sasha was picked up from the venue, she informed her mother that she performed in the competition, complete with bruises and cuts and visibly bloodied. She missed placing in the competition by 1.75 points.

When Sonya asked her why Sasha competed in that state, her daughter replied empathically: “I wasn’t going to let that dead deer ruin all the hard work I put in all year.”

Sonya said that when it comes to fight or flight, Sasha will go into fight mode every time.

That determination is a Pakistani trait.

While we’re still a fair bit away from ringing in the new year, I plan to take inspiration from Sasha and not let any dead deer rain on my parade.

The writer is a journalism instructor.

X: @LedeingLady

Published in Dawn, December 14th, 2025

The writer is co-producer and host of Unpressedented, a podcast on the media landscape in Pakistan.