As 2024 comes to a close, there’s a palpable sense of panic in the air. Conversations on the streets, in homes, and across schools and universities revolve around one burning question: What does the future hold for Pakistan? With inflation surging, jobs disappearing, opportunities shrinking, and businesses shutting down, it’s impossible not to wonder where we are headed.
The younger generation, especially, finds itself at a crossroads. Should they stay and hope for an economic revival, or is it time to leave the country in search of a better life abroad? This dilemma dominates every discussion, from chai dhabas to university auditoriums. The situation, exacerbated by the global upheaval of the COVID-19 pandemic, hasn’t improved; in fact, many believe it’s worsened.
Reflecting on our past, it’s fascinating to observe how the evolution of Pakistan’s economic landscape mirrors the generational shifts in ambition, values, and survival. When Pakistan was born in 1947, it wasn’t just a division of borders—it was a great upheaval of lives. Families left behind not just their homes but also their entire legacies: businesses, wealth, cultural ties, and even their sense of belonging. They sought refuge in a new land, one that was rife with uncertainty but filled with hope.
In cities like Karachi and across Punjab, migrants arrived with nothing more than the will to survive and the ambition to rebuild. They began from scratch, with nothing but sheer determination driving them. Small shops turned into thriving businesses, and over time, these ventures laid the foundation of Pakistan’s nascent economy. These self-made entrepreneurs created something larger than wealth—they created symbols of resilience, grit, and success.
Their children—our parents—grew up watching this relentless pursuit of survival. They inherited more than just businesses; they inherited the values of hard work, determination, and a deep commitment to growth. They weren’t just taking over companies; they were nurturing legacies, expanding small-scale enterprises into major industrial ventures, and developing networks that contributed significantly to the national economy. Karachi became a bustling trade hub, and Punjab turned into an industrial heartland. For this generation, the pursuit wasn’t just about money—it was about honoring the sacrifices of their forefathers. They watered these businesses like one nurtures a garden, watching them flourish into multi-million-dollar enterprises. This generation didn’t view jobs as an option; their focus was clear: build, expand, and continue the family legacy.
But with the arrival of the millennial generation, the landscape began to shift. The post-1990s world was vastly different from the one their parents had known. Globalization, technological advancement, and new market dynamics presented a world of possibilities beyond the traditional family business model. Half of the millennial generation stayed rooted, continuing the family legacy, while the other half chose to explore uncharted waters. They stepped out of their inherited frameworks and began carving their own paths—whether through entrepreneurship or by navigating the corporate world’s 9-to-5 grind. The entrepreneurial spirit of Pakistan remained alive, but millennials started mixing it with a newfound flexibility. They built startups, ventured into new industries, and brought innovation into traditional businesses. At the same time, the corporate job market expanded, and many chose stability over risk, opting for secure jobs with multinationals or government institutions.
Then, along came Gen-Z—the true disruptors of the status quo. Born into an era of rapid technological change, globalization, and social media revolutions, they are nothing like their predecessors. Independence is their mantra. They don’t see themselves chained to any legacy—family business or otherwise. Gen-Z has a thirst for autonomy that makes them challenging but fascinating. They’re digital natives, and they challenge every convention, whether it’s related to their careers or the broader societal norms. Freelancing, digital entrepreneurship, remote work—Gen-Z embraced it all, often rejecting the idea of traditional employment altogether. Their focus isn’t solely on building wealth for future generations; it’s about living life on their own terms and pushing the boundaries of conventional work models. However, Gen-Z’s defiance also comes with its frustrations. Their ambitions clash with an economy that is, quite frankly, failing to keep up. Despite being the most innovative generation, they face roadblocks their forefathers never knew: inflation, job scarcity, and the instability of markets. They crave more from life—more than just a paycheck. They seek purpose, flexibility, and freedom, but they’re forced to reconcile their ambitions with the harsh economic reality of a country in crisis. It’s a paradox: the most dynamic, forward-thinking generation finds itself shackled by circumstances beyond its control. This generational shift isn’t just about changing attitudes; it’s about the way we relate to work, ambition, and success. From our forefathers who rebuilt from ashes, to our parents who nurtured businesses, to the millennials who explored new frontiers, and now to Gen-Z who refuses to settle—the story of Pakistan’s economy is deeply intertwined with the evolution of its people. But today, the narrative seems to be hitting a wall. The very systems that supported the rise of past generations are now crumbling, leaving the next in line to wonder: what does the future hold? The ambitions of our forefathers are still alive in us, but the question remains—how can they thrive in a country struggling to find its economic footing?
No matter the generation, one thing is clear: the current economic instability is a burden that all Pakistanis feel. Businesses, large and small, are faltering. Even established companies find it difficult to pay salaries on time, let alone offer increments. Inflation is eating into household incomes, and the dream of a better life is slipping out of reach for many. The price of everything—from groceries to utilities—has skyrocketed, making it hard for even the middle class to maintain their standard of living.
I’m not here to draw conclusions but to express a shared concern that resonates with every one of us living through this period of uncertainty. Like many of you, I wonder what the future holds for us—whether it’s five years from now or a decade ahead. Will my earnings in the next few years be enough to sustain a better lifestyle, or will they barely cover my basic needs? How will I manage rising expenses if my salary doesn’t grow at the same pace? These are the same haunting questions plaguing the minds of millions in Pakistan today.
It’s the endless chain of what ifs that drives people to consider leaving. And really, who can blame them? When the state struggles to provide the essentials—food, jobs, and housing—people naturally look for alternatives. They’re not chasing dreams; they’re trying to escape nightmares. The urge to seek greener pastures abroad isn’t fueled by greed or selfishness—it’s driven by a fundamental human need to survive and thrive. But the real question remains, is that enough? The promise of roti, kapra, makan—a cornerstone of political slogans and manifestos for decades—no longer seems enough to satisfy the aspirations of a generation that desires more than just the basics. Today, people don’t want to merely exist; they want to live fully. They’re seeking more than survival—they want security, comfort, and the freedom to achieve their full potential. The pursuit of a higher quality of life isn’t a sign of greed, but ambition. And yet, it feels like the very system meant to support that ambition is set up to disappoint. Look around. Pakistan’s economy today is a landscape of contradictions. On one hand, we are a nation brimming with potential—a young population full of talent, creativity, and entrepreneurial spirit. On the other hand, we’re caught in the stranglehold of inflation, joblessness, and dwindling opportunities. The dreamers and doers who should be pushing the country forward are finding themselves trapped in an economy that seems unwilling to reward hard work. It’s not that people are unwilling to strive; it’s that the avenues for success are shrinking. So, what does the future hold? The truth is, it’s hard to say. If we look ahead, the possibilities seem to fall into two extremes: either we witness a resurgence of hope, or we spiral deeper into despair.
The optimist in me believes there’s a chance for revival. If the government and policymakers act swiftly—investing in job creation, education, and sustainable growth—we might see a future where businesses flourish again, where opportunities abound, and where people don’t feel compelled to leave their homeland for the promise of a better life. We could become a nation that taps into the immense potential of our youth, fostering innovation and progress, and finally reaping the benefits of our hardworking generations.
But the pessimist in me can’t help but see the darker side. What if things don’t improve? What if the inflation keeps rising, opportunities keep shrinking, and the brightest minds continue to leave the country in droves? Pakistan could find itself in an economic freefall, where the gap between the haves and have-nots grows ever wider. We may witness the collapse of industries, and an entire generation’s potential could be lost, leaving behind a country where survival becomes the only priority for most.
In the end, it comes down to this: What kind of future do we want, and are we willing to fight for it? Will we give in to the darkness of uncertainty, or will we hold on to the glimmer of hope that things can get better? The system may be flawed, the challenges immense, and the odds stacked against us—but hope is a powerful thing. It’s what has kept this nation alive through some of the toughest times in history.
So, as I stand at this crossroads, I can’t help but wonder—do we stop hoping and trying, or do we still believe that there’s light at the end of this tunnel? Will we rise above the challenges or succumb to them? The choice is ours. Where do we go from here? As a nation, we stand at a critical juncture. Will our businesses rebound? Will the economy stabilize? Or are we looking at a future of perpetual decline?
I see uncertainty. I see I don’t know. But what about you? Do you still believe in Pakistan’s future, or has hope become a distant memory? Will the tide turn, or are we simply waiting for the inevitable? Should we stop hoping and trying?
