It was 2 a.m. when there was a knock at the door. Dr. Dawar was already awake. With a sinking heart, he opened the door.
“Leave the building immediately—a police raid is expected,” the building manager whispered in a threatening tone.
Dr. Dawar quickly woke his family. Within minutes, they gathered a few belongings, hired a cab, and fled to a relative’s home in a nearby city. But the situation there was no different. Within days, police arrested his two sons while they were shopping in the bazaar. They were deported to Afghanistan immediately. Dawar felt as if someone had chopped off his arms. But when he thought about his daughters and wife, he gathered his strength, fled to a nearby village, and took refuge there.
He was at a crossroads: he could not return to Afghanistan, Pakistani authorities were not letting him stay, and the host country remained indifferent.
Dawar, a medical doctor by profession, came to Pakistan with high hopes. He left Afghanistan, with his two sons, two daughters and wife, after the Taliban took over the country following the abrupt US withdrawal in 2021. He had worked with the previous anti-Taliban government. Staying in Afghanistan was suicide. He fled to neighbouring Pakistan for a few weeks to process his documents and travel on asylum to the country he had served. But weeks turned into months, and months into years of pain, agony, and uncertainty.
From the moment he crossed the border, he faced humiliation and constant challenges as a refugee. The attitude of Pashtuns across the border was highly commercial. He had to pay exorbitant prices even for drinking water and food. At the border, UNHCR issued them a letter. On someone’s advice, he also secured a Pakistani visa for Rs 6,000 per head for six months. For years, he visited the Torkham border every six months to renew his visa. But in the last year, the fees doubled, the procedure became more complex, and the visa duration was reduced, too.
He decided to stay in Islamabad, close to the embassy of his intended destination. The first challenge was securing accommodation. Property dealers exploited his refugee status—he had to pay double commission, and rents were higher than what locals paid. He tried to get a job as a medical doctor, but no one was interested in hiring a refugee who couldn’t speak the local language fluently. He looked for other work but found nothing. His sons tried to set up a food stall, but without an identity card, they weren’t allowed to operate.
“Our foreign nationality is our enemy,” he often thought. Soon, his savings started drying up, but it was the hope of a better future that kept him going. The response from the foreign country that promised them asylum against their services was too slow.
Dr. Dawar now spends his days in hiding, unsure of what tomorrow will bring. His daughters rarely leave the house. His wife tries to keep the family strong, but the silence in their small rented room grows heavier with each passing day.
We are neither here nor there,” he sighs. “We served those who promised to protect us, but now the world has turned its face away.
Dr. Dawar is not alone. Thousands of Afghan refugee families are still waiting for a phone call or an email—a signal that someone, somewhere, remembers the promises made to Afghan allies. Until then, they wait in fear, in exile, in silence. But hope is fading fast.
Since 2021, much has changed. New governments in the West forgot the promises they made to Afghans, facing their own domestic challenges. Protecting Afghan allies who risked their lives was no longer a priority.
Pakistan’s ties with Afghanistan also worsened due to accusations of cross-border attacks. Citing Afghan involvement in several terror incidents, the Pakistani government decided to repatriate all Afghans.
Last year, the Government of Pakistan announced the deportation of Afghan refugees in phases. After the completion of Phases 1 and 2, Pakistan stopped renewing Proof of Registration (PoR) cards after June 30. Under Phase 3, launched in July, law enforcement agencies began house-to-house raids in several cities. Afghan families are being arrested and moved to detention centres or directly to border crossings for immediate deportation.
According to UNHCR, the Islamic Republic of Pakistan is among the largest refugee-hosting countries globally, showing remarkable generosity for over 40 years to more than 1.5 million registered Afghan refugees—women, men, and children. Pakistani authorities estimate that around 600,000 Afghans entered the country after the U.S. withdrawal.
Qamar Yousafzai, President of the Pak-Afghan International Forum of Journalists, believe nearly 3 million Afghan refugees were living in Pakistan before NATO’s withdrawal in 2021. He insists that after the withdrawal, 665,000 Afghans arrived legally, while over 1.3 million crossed without documentation.
By Atif Khan
Names have been changed to protect identities. Title Image: Ai generated
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