An Afghan woman sits with her children around a fire in an Islamabad slum to stay warm. Photo by the author.

In Pakistan, Afghan refugees are trapped in a limbo where legality offers no protection. At an International English Language Testing System (IELTS) test center in Islamabad, which offers English proficiency tests, Parisa Azimi’s hands were shaking while adjusting the scarf covering her face. Beside her, Zabiullah avoided eye contact with the crowd. They had more to worry about than failing their English exam; they feared being seen.

In a country like Pakistan, where police crackdowns on Afghan refugees have once again escalated, hiding their identity has become a matter of survival. “Police do not differentiate between documented and undocumented refugees,” says lawyer Moniza Kakar.

English isn't their first language, yet passing this exam is their only hope of gaining acceptance into foreign universities, fueling their dreams for a better life. Passing this exam could mean a chance to leave behind a life of constant fear in Pakistan, where deportation looms like an ever-present shadow. Yet, the alternative — returning to Afghanistan — is no option at all for women like Parisa, where the Taliban's ban on female education since 2021 has erased the possibility of a better life.

“We have no home,” Parisa told Global Voices. “In Pakistan, while having a valid visa and Proof of Registration (POR) cards, we are treated like criminals. In Afghanistan, we're not even allowed to dream.”

The Commissionerate for Afghan Refugees (CCAR) reports that Pakistan is home to approximately 2.9 million Afghan nationals, both with and without documentation.

Mass deportation deadline

The relations between Pakistan and Afghanistan have crumbled significantly since the fall of Kabul in 2021. The first deadline for undocumented Afghans to return to their homeland was set on November 1, 2023. As per a United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA) report, around 80,000 undocumented and over 52,000 documented Afghan refugees returned from Pakistan in 2024.

However, Pakistan has once again tightened the noose on Afghan nationals residing in Pakistan. Pakistan’s Interior Minister, Mohsin Naqvi, announced that starting from December 31, 2024, no Afghan nationals will be allowed to stay in Islamabad without a No Objection Certificate (NOC) issued from the Deputy Commissioner’s Office.

In the latest development, Pakistan's federal government has devised a plan to relocate Afghan refugees currently living in Islamabad and Rawalpindi to other areas by March 31st before their eventual repatriation to Afghanistan.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire

Sitting in a corner at the IELTS test center, Parisa, a 22-year-old Afghan refugee student, speaks with quiet exhaustion. She came to Pakistan in 2022, fleeing Afghanistan, where she and her sisters were banned from school, and her future seemed to vanish overnight. But two years later, the uncertainty remains — but now it comes from the country that once offered her refuge.

“It wasn’t human-like behavior,” she says, recalling her struggle to survive in Pakistan. Finding work, securing education, or simply moving around the city has been a constant challenge. “We couldn’t find jobs, and even when we did, we didn’t get certificates for our work. I worked in a medical center doing data entry, but it didn’t lead to anything,” she added.

Parisa, originally from Bamyan in Central Afghanistan but raised in Kabul, hoped to continue her education in Pakistan. However, as an Afghan student, her path has been filled with obstacles. Universities refuse admissions, bank accounts remain inaccessible in the absence of a Computerized National Identity Card (CNIC), and government policies limit her access to higher education.

The fear of deportation looms over her daily life. Government crackdowns on Afghan refugees have intensified, and students like Parisa feel the weight of uncertainty. “It’s frustrating,” she says. “Visa fees keep increasing, and when we apply, they reject us without giving any reason. We’re stuck.”

But beyond the bureaucratic hurdles, it’s the everyday discrimination that has left the most scars.

“In Rawalpindi, people harass us in public spaces,” she shares. “They abuse us in Punjabi. They can identify us from our faces. We were once beaten in a park, and when we called the police, they hung up the phone as soon as they realized we were Afghan refugees.”

Parisa’s voice tightens as she speaks about the random police detentions and harassment. “If you have money or power, you can avoid trouble. But if you don’t, then it’s a different story.”

Despite the fear, Parisa refuses to stop dreaming. Her passion lies in mathematics and physics, and she hopes to study in Canada, where she believes she can finally find stability.

An uncertain future

“We are unsure of our future here,” she says. “We can’t go back to Afghanistan, but in Canada, I can continue my studies. I want to become a physicist,” she said.

But this uncertainty is suffocating. The recent government order of silently moving refugees out of big cities has added another layer of fear. Now Afghan refugees may not be allowed to stay in Islamabad or Rawalpindi after March 31. “I had plans to stay in Rawalpindi, but now, even that seems uncertain. We don’t know what will happen tomorrow.”

The fear, instability, and lack of control over her future have taken a toll. “There’s constant pressure,” she admits. “I get headaches from stress. We try to forget, but the fear is always there.”

Yet, despite everything, she holds on to gratitude. “Not all Pakistanis treat us badly,” she says. “Many people are kind. They show empathy and behave with respect.” Before leaving, Parisa shares a message for the Pakistani government: “Hard times come for everyone. A little understanding goes a long way. Money isn’t everything sometimes. Humanity is more important.”

Her voice was steady; her hopes were fragile but still alive. “One day, things will get better.”

The legal status doesn't matter

Pakistani lawyer Moniza Kakar, who works with Afghan refugees, told Global Voices during an in-person interview that Afghan refugees in Pakistan face indiscriminate treatment from authorities, regardless of their legal status. “Police do not differentiate between documented and undocumented refugees,” highlighting instances in Sindh where Pashtuns were harassed under the guise of identifying Afghan nationals. “Officers demand bribes from people. Those who pay are spared while others face deportation. In some cases, police even tore up valid documents when refugees couldn’t pay.”

Moniza said the government has tried to justify such actions by citing the country's economic instability, street crimes, and alleged links between Afghan refugees and terrorism. “This narrative lacks legal backing. If these refugees were genuinely involved in terrorism, their court trials would reflect that. I haven’t seen any terrorism cases against Afghan refugees,” she mentioned.

She also highlighted the plight of Afghan students. “Thousands of students, some as young as seven, have been presented in court. The government has halted student admissions , denied visa extensions, and shut off efforts to legalize stays. Afghan women face barriers enrolling in vocational training centers, and even in Afghanistan, they can’t continue their education.”

Moniza Kakar emphasized that the absence of a formal refugee law in Pakistan exacerbates these issues. “The lack of legal protection turns refugees into tools for political and economic exploitation. An effective legal framework for refugees would ensure fair procedures and mutual accountability between refugees and state institutions.”