Pakistan’s economic future grows stronger when women have the freedom to live, and work, on their own terms.
Published December 13, 2025
PRISM/DAWN
Pakistan’s prolonged economic downturn is not driven by policy failures alone — it is also fuelled by the systematic underutilisation of its most capable women. Cultural norms that restrict women’s mobility, police their autonomy, and dictate their living arrangements, have become economic barriers, keeping productivity low and growth stagnant.
Pakistan could unlock this economic potential by confronting one of its most rigid social boundaries: women’s freedom to live independently in urban centres.
This article makes a case for a segment already positioned to contribute: urban, educated, skilled, and financially capable women, while recognising that many working-class women also live alone out of necessity or opportunity. Their struggles differ in context but not in significance, facing even harsher structural obstacles. Their participation in the economy is equally critical.
If accelerating growth, reducing brain drain, and closing gender gaps are national priorities, then enabling safe, viable independent living for women in major cities must finally be treated as an economic imperative.
The cost of excluding women
Pakistan’s female labour participation rate sits at a concerning 22.6 per cent for women aged between 15 and 64, which is significantly lower than the world average of 52.6pc, and even lower than the South Asian average of 25.2pc. According to the World Bank, a 10pc increase in female labour participation could increase Pakistan’s GDP growth by 1.5pc annually.
Countries with similar cultural foundations have already demonstrated this. Bangladesh leveraged female-intensive industries to improve GDP and reduce poverty levels. Saudi Arabia, after easing restrictions on women’s mobility and employment, saw an increase in billions to their economy within years. Vietnam attributed significant portions of its growth to educated women entering productive sectors at scale.
In Pakistan, however, even educated women frequently choose to opt out of the workforce or exit early. The reasons being predictable: restricted mobility, lack of safe transport, hostile work environments, and most crucially, a cultural expectation that they must live with their family until marriage, regardless of their professional needs.
“Being brought up in Pakistan, I was always told that I will go from my mother’s house to my husband’s house. The only interim freedom you get is if you go abroad for university,” reflected Elsa Sajjad, who lives with her sister in an apartment in Karachi. “I didn’t go abroad, but those who do, they get a taste of freedom and then it’s snatched back.”
While the decision to migrate abroad for better opportunities is understandable, the loss of these women — artists, academics, designers, lawyers, engineers, doctors — inflicts a drain on human capital Pakistan can no longer afford. Remittances soften the blow, but they do not compensate for the long-term erosion of youthful innovation, research capacity, and domestic talent pipelines.
If women had the option to live independently in city centres, closer to workplaces, training hubs, and universities, they would be less enticed to build their futures abroad.
Benefits of living alone
Ample evidence from across the world suggests that when educated women have control over their time, mobility, and finances, they are more likely to invest in skills development, career advancement, and entrepreneurship. Independent living for women in Pakistan, for those who can afford it, directly supports these outcomes.
“It made me grow up a lot faster than my friends. You’re working, you’re also paying your own electricity and gas bills, and you also have to keep savings aside in case of medical emergencies,” Sajjad pointed out.
Women in joint households shoulder disproportionate unpaid labour. Studies show Pakistani women spend up to 10 times more hours on domestic responsibilities than men. Living independently would allow women to reallocate this time toward networking, internships, freelance work, and degrees and certifications.
“I started my own company, which I could do because of the peace of mind I have. I don’t have to worry about silly things like household tiffs,” added Sajjad.
Women living alone in urban centres can avoid long commutes, unsafe travel, or family-imposed curfews that hinder employment. Living near business districts and transit hubs not only reduces transport costs and safety risks, but also increases workforce reliability, a crucial factor in gaining economic efficiency.
When educated daughters support themselves financially, families experience higher household income, reduced economic burden on parents, greater investment in the education of their younger siblings, and improved social mobility. Independent living also disrupts intergenerational poverty traps, especially for families who struggle to support adult daughters indefinitely.
“Not only am I supporting myself financially, but I can also support my mother,” Sajjad noted.
A rise in independent female tenants would expand rental markets, women-only hostels, co-living spaces, and local services such as laundries, transport, food, and security. This microeconomic ripple will strengthen the service sector, which is already Pakistan’s largest contributor to GDP.
Many women leave Pakistan not because they lack opportunity but because they lack agency over their lives. Facilitating independent living will keep human capital at home.
Living alone also compels women to confront the cycle of fear they have long been conditioned to stay within, ultimately making them more resilient and confident as they navigate the realities of household duties, maintenance issues, tenant rights, and even bribe-hungry police officers who try to take advantage of women driving alone.
“As a woman living alone in Pakistan, the law doesn’t always protect you,” Sajjad emphasised. “It pushed me to do things many women might not consider — like learning the basic laws every Pakistani woman should know. I studied workplace regulations, sexual harassment laws, and driving rules. There have been times when police tried to intimidate me, but now I know my rights and can stand my ground.”
The barriers: Real, serious, and solvable
A meaningful conversation around women’s independence and autonomy must acknowledge the barriers they face in attempting to live alone in Pakistan’s major cities. The most immediate challenge is financial. Even for educated, urban professionals, the cost of rent, utilities, transport, and basic living expenses can be prohibitive without the shared resource of a family household.
“Even the reason I have roommates is economic. I can’t afford rent by myself,” Yusra Amjad remarked, who rents an apartment in Islamabad to be closer to her place of employment.
The economic burden is compounded by discriminatory practices in the housing market, where landlords frequently refuse to rent to single women, demand the involvement of a male guardian, or impose intrusive questioning about marital status and daily activities — requirements less frequently applicable to male tenants.
It is also unconventional for unmarried men in Pakistan to live apart from their families, but the social implications based on gender vary greatly: women are often labelled as dishonourable and shameful, while men are praised as responsible and ambitious for prioritising their careers.
Safety remains an even more pressing concern. In many neighbourhoods across Karachi, Lahore, Islamabad, and other major cities, urban design offers little consideration for women’s security. Street harassment, break-ins, and the constant threat of gender-based violence dictate where women feel safe to live.
Even when a woman does find suitable housing, navigating the city independently brings its own set of risks. Public transport is often unreliable and unsafe, especially after dark, and ride-hailing services, while widely used, are not immune to harassment or predatory behaviour.
“I would call Careems and they were very unreliable. Some of the cars were very sketchy; I would get in and hope they wouldn’t break down,” recalled Maha Shahid, who once lived alone in her grandmother’s house in Karachi. “I would call them at the end of the street, never to my gate, because you never know who you’d get. I took little precautions like that, and I would always try to get out of the office before dark.”
In most cities, for those without a car, ride sharing is the only option. Trains, buses, and other forms of transport are inaccessible and widely unavailable, especially for women. For example, in Islamabad, a metro system has recently been established, but the stations are situated sparsely, and reaching them is another challenge.
“How am I getting to the metro? Am I calling an Uber to the metro? In New York you can walk to the bus. But here it becomes kind of counterintuitive,” said Amjad.
These constraints make late work hours, night classes, internships, and networking events far less unobtainable to women who rely on safe and reliable mobility to advance their careers.
Social scrutiny adds another layer of deterrence. Neighbours, building guards, and even extended family often view a woman living alone as a challenge to cultural norms, subjecting her to suspicion and moral policing. This informal yet pervasive surveillance fosters a hostile environment, deterring women who have the financial means and professional need to live independently. In an already conservative society, the perceived “impropriety” of a single woman managing her own home can translate into daily stress, reputational risk, and familial pressure to abandon the arrangement altogether.
“Women living alone are much more vulnerable in a country like ours. People are more likely to make judgements about their character,” relayed Amjad.
Yet, crucially, none of these barriers are insurmountable. They are symptoms of structural gaps — unregulated rental markets, insufficient women’s housing, inadequate urban planning, and a lack of gender-conscious transport policies — that can be addressed through both public reforms and private-sector innovation. Other countries with comparable cultural norms have expanded women-only hostels, implemented legal protections for single female tenants, strengthened public transport systems, and introduced safe co-living spaces that blend affordability with security. Pakistan can do the same. The obstacles are real, but so are the solutions.
Reframing the cultural conversation
Independent living for women in Pakistan is still seen as a radical challenge to cultural norms, but viewing it solely as a moral or social issue ignores its broader economic significance.
It is crucial to separate religious doctrine from cultural practice: Islam grants women the right to own property, enter contracts, manage finances, and make independent decisions about their livelihoods. The unease around women living alone, then, is not rooted in faith, but in inherited social norms that no longer align with the country’s economic realities.
At a time when Pakistan is grappling with shrinking productivity, declining competitiveness, and an accelerating brain drain, maintaining restrictive norms around women’s autonomy imposes a measurable financial cost. The issue is not whether tradition should be discarded, but whether our economic future can withstand the continued exclusion of half the population from fully participating in public and professional life.
“To me it’s not about feelings but about rationality. Often, I just wouldn’t understand the why. The why has to make sense to me. If the why is just a feeling you have, to me that’s not rational so I can’t just fall into line with what my mother says,” said Shahid, reflecting on the familial backlash she faced when deciding to live alone.
While this analysis primarily examines the economic case for women’s independent living, it is important to acknowledge that many women have no choice but to live alone due to unstable or controlling households, domestic abuse, divorce, or broader safety concerns
Let the women live
Pakistan still has a long road ahead before its cities are truly safe for women to live, work, and move through without fear or scrutiny. It also has a long way to go before women’s right to choose how they live is seen as acceptable, let alone normal.
In a country so deeply entrenched in culture, tradition, and religious routine, a break from conventions, especially by women, is often considered radical or defiant. Yet acknowledging the economic potential of independent living is a critical step toward unlocking the talent that already exists within our female population.
For the segment of women who are financially capable and professionally ambitious, living alone is a decision grounded in necessity, efficiency, and ambition — qualities any society striving for progress should value rather than resist.
“The two jobs that I had in Pakistan really set me up for success. I moved back to New England and got a six-figure salary job without even networking. My work experience in Pakistan really shaped me,” Shahid explained.
Understanding the benefits of female self-determination and highlighting stories of successful independent women can help normalise these choices. The journey is not easy, but the freedom and mobility it brings make it worthwhile. Challenging tradition is rarely comfortable, but clinging to the status quo no longer serves the country.
If Pakistan hopes to rebuild its economy, retain is skilled professionals, and participate competitively in a global landscape, it must allow its most capable women the freedom to structure their lives in ways that support their productivity.
Header image: The photo is generated through Canva AI.
The author is an independent writer based in Brooklyn, New York. With a background in international relations and public policy, she currently works as a researcher at a law and policy think tank aimed at democracy reform in the US.
Pakistan could unlock this economic potential by confronting one of its most rigid social boundaries: women’s freedom to live independently in urban centres.
This article makes a case for a segment already positioned to contribute: urban, educated, skilled, and financially capable women, while recognising that many working-class women also live alone out of necessity or opportunity. Their struggles differ in context but not in significance, facing even harsher structural obstacles. Their participation in the economy is equally critical.
If accelerating growth, reducing brain drain, and closing gender gaps are national priorities, then enabling safe, viable independent living for women in major cities must finally be treated as an economic imperative.
The cost of excluding women
Pakistan’s female labour participation rate sits at a concerning 22.6 per cent for women aged between 15 and 64, which is significantly lower than the world average of 52.6pc, and even lower than the South Asian average of 25.2pc. According to the World Bank, a 10pc increase in female labour participation could increase Pakistan’s GDP growth by 1.5pc annually.
Countries with similar cultural foundations have already demonstrated this. Bangladesh leveraged female-intensive industries to improve GDP and reduce poverty levels. Saudi Arabia, after easing restrictions on women’s mobility and employment, saw an increase in billions to their economy within years. Vietnam attributed significant portions of its growth to educated women entering productive sectors at scale.
In Pakistan, however, even educated women frequently choose to opt out of the workforce or exit early. The reasons being predictable: restricted mobility, lack of safe transport, hostile work environments, and most crucially, a cultural expectation that they must live with their family until marriage, regardless of their professional needs.
“Being brought up in Pakistan, I was always told that I will go from my mother’s house to my husband’s house. The only interim freedom you get is if you go abroad for university,” reflected Elsa Sajjad, who lives with her sister in an apartment in Karachi. “I didn’t go abroad, but those who do, they get a taste of freedom and then it’s snatched back.”
While the decision to migrate abroad for better opportunities is understandable, the loss of these women — artists, academics, designers, lawyers, engineers, doctors — inflicts a drain on human capital Pakistan can no longer afford. Remittances soften the blow, but they do not compensate for the long-term erosion of youthful innovation, research capacity, and domestic talent pipelines.
If women had the option to live independently in city centres, closer to workplaces, training hubs, and universities, they would be less enticed to build their futures abroad.
Benefits of living alone
Ample evidence from across the world suggests that when educated women have control over their time, mobility, and finances, they are more likely to invest in skills development, career advancement, and entrepreneurship. Independent living for women in Pakistan, for those who can afford it, directly supports these outcomes.
“It made me grow up a lot faster than my friends. You’re working, you’re also paying your own electricity and gas bills, and you also have to keep savings aside in case of medical emergencies,” Sajjad pointed out.
Women in joint households shoulder disproportionate unpaid labour. Studies show Pakistani women spend up to 10 times more hours on domestic responsibilities than men. Living independently would allow women to reallocate this time toward networking, internships, freelance work, and degrees and certifications.
“I started my own company, which I could do because of the peace of mind I have. I don’t have to worry about silly things like household tiffs,” added Sajjad.
Women living alone in urban centres can avoid long commutes, unsafe travel, or family-imposed curfews that hinder employment. Living near business districts and transit hubs not only reduces transport costs and safety risks, but also increases workforce reliability, a crucial factor in gaining economic efficiency.
When educated daughters support themselves financially, families experience higher household income, reduced economic burden on parents, greater investment in the education of their younger siblings, and improved social mobility. Independent living also disrupts intergenerational poverty traps, especially for families who struggle to support adult daughters indefinitely.
“Not only am I supporting myself financially, but I can also support my mother,” Sajjad noted.
A rise in independent female tenants would expand rental markets, women-only hostels, co-living spaces, and local services such as laundries, transport, food, and security. This microeconomic ripple will strengthen the service sector, which is already Pakistan’s largest contributor to GDP.
Many women leave Pakistan not because they lack opportunity but because they lack agency over their lives. Facilitating independent living will keep human capital at home.
Living alone also compels women to confront the cycle of fear they have long been conditioned to stay within, ultimately making them more resilient and confident as they navigate the realities of household duties, maintenance issues, tenant rights, and even bribe-hungry police officers who try to take advantage of women driving alone.
“As a woman living alone in Pakistan, the law doesn’t always protect you,” Sajjad emphasised. “It pushed me to do things many women might not consider — like learning the basic laws every Pakistani woman should know. I studied workplace regulations, sexual harassment laws, and driving rules. There have been times when police tried to intimidate me, but now I know my rights and can stand my ground.”
The barriers: Real, serious, and solvable
A meaningful conversation around women’s independence and autonomy must acknowledge the barriers they face in attempting to live alone in Pakistan’s major cities. The most immediate challenge is financial. Even for educated, urban professionals, the cost of rent, utilities, transport, and basic living expenses can be prohibitive without the shared resource of a family household.
“Even the reason I have roommates is economic. I can’t afford rent by myself,” Yusra Amjad remarked, who rents an apartment in Islamabad to be closer to her place of employment.
The economic burden is compounded by discriminatory practices in the housing market, where landlords frequently refuse to rent to single women, demand the involvement of a male guardian, or impose intrusive questioning about marital status and daily activities — requirements less frequently applicable to male tenants.
It is also unconventional for unmarried men in Pakistan to live apart from their families, but the social implications based on gender vary greatly: women are often labelled as dishonourable and shameful, while men are praised as responsible and ambitious for prioritising their careers.
Safety remains an even more pressing concern. In many neighbourhoods across Karachi, Lahore, Islamabad, and other major cities, urban design offers little consideration for women’s security. Street harassment, break-ins, and the constant threat of gender-based violence dictate where women feel safe to live.
Even when a woman does find suitable housing, navigating the city independently brings its own set of risks. Public transport is often unreliable and unsafe, especially after dark, and ride-hailing services, while widely used, are not immune to harassment or predatory behaviour.
“I would call Careems and they were very unreliable. Some of the cars were very sketchy; I would get in and hope they wouldn’t break down,” recalled Maha Shahid, who once lived alone in her grandmother’s house in Karachi. “I would call them at the end of the street, never to my gate, because you never know who you’d get. I took little precautions like that, and I would always try to get out of the office before dark.”
In most cities, for those without a car, ride sharing is the only option. Trains, buses, and other forms of transport are inaccessible and widely unavailable, especially for women. For example, in Islamabad, a metro system has recently been established, but the stations are situated sparsely, and reaching them is another challenge.
“How am I getting to the metro? Am I calling an Uber to the metro? In New York you can walk to the bus. But here it becomes kind of counterintuitive,” said Amjad.
These constraints make late work hours, night classes, internships, and networking events far less unobtainable to women who rely on safe and reliable mobility to advance their careers.
Social scrutiny adds another layer of deterrence. Neighbours, building guards, and even extended family often view a woman living alone as a challenge to cultural norms, subjecting her to suspicion and moral policing. This informal yet pervasive surveillance fosters a hostile environment, deterring women who have the financial means and professional need to live independently. In an already conservative society, the perceived “impropriety” of a single woman managing her own home can translate into daily stress, reputational risk, and familial pressure to abandon the arrangement altogether.
“Women living alone are much more vulnerable in a country like ours. People are more likely to make judgements about their character,” relayed Amjad.
Yet, crucially, none of these barriers are insurmountable. They are symptoms of structural gaps — unregulated rental markets, insufficient women’s housing, inadequate urban planning, and a lack of gender-conscious transport policies — that can be addressed through both public reforms and private-sector innovation. Other countries with comparable cultural norms have expanded women-only hostels, implemented legal protections for single female tenants, strengthened public transport systems, and introduced safe co-living spaces that blend affordability with security. Pakistan can do the same. The obstacles are real, but so are the solutions.
Reframing the cultural conversation
Independent living for women in Pakistan is still seen as a radical challenge to cultural norms, but viewing it solely as a moral or social issue ignores its broader economic significance.
It is crucial to separate religious doctrine from cultural practice: Islam grants women the right to own property, enter contracts, manage finances, and make independent decisions about their livelihoods. The unease around women living alone, then, is not rooted in faith, but in inherited social norms that no longer align with the country’s economic realities.
At a time when Pakistan is grappling with shrinking productivity, declining competitiveness, and an accelerating brain drain, maintaining restrictive norms around women’s autonomy imposes a measurable financial cost. The issue is not whether tradition should be discarded, but whether our economic future can withstand the continued exclusion of half the population from fully participating in public and professional life.
“To me it’s not about feelings but about rationality. Often, I just wouldn’t understand the why. The why has to make sense to me. If the why is just a feeling you have, to me that’s not rational so I can’t just fall into line with what my mother says,” said Shahid, reflecting on the familial backlash she faced when deciding to live alone.
While this analysis primarily examines the economic case for women’s independent living, it is important to acknowledge that many women have no choice but to live alone due to unstable or controlling households, domestic abuse, divorce, or broader safety concerns
Let the women live
Pakistan still has a long road ahead before its cities are truly safe for women to live, work, and move through without fear or scrutiny. It also has a long way to go before women’s right to choose how they live is seen as acceptable, let alone normal.
In a country so deeply entrenched in culture, tradition, and religious routine, a break from conventions, especially by women, is often considered radical or defiant. Yet acknowledging the economic potential of independent living is a critical step toward unlocking the talent that already exists within our female population.
For the segment of women who are financially capable and professionally ambitious, living alone is a decision grounded in necessity, efficiency, and ambition — qualities any society striving for progress should value rather than resist.
“The two jobs that I had in Pakistan really set me up for success. I moved back to New England and got a six-figure salary job without even networking. My work experience in Pakistan really shaped me,” Shahid explained.
Understanding the benefits of female self-determination and highlighting stories of successful independent women can help normalise these choices. The journey is not easy, but the freedom and mobility it brings make it worthwhile. Challenging tradition is rarely comfortable, but clinging to the status quo no longer serves the country.
If Pakistan hopes to rebuild its economy, retain is skilled professionals, and participate competitively in a global landscape, it must allow its most capable women the freedom to structure their lives in ways that support their productivity.
Header image: The photo is generated through Canva AI.
The author is an independent writer based in Brooklyn, New York. With a background in international relations and public policy, she currently works as a researcher at a law and policy think tank aimed at democracy reform in the US.
