May 17, 2025
By Mateen Ali, Aitzaz Ibrahim and Ali Baig
LAHORE
In a small recycling workshop near Lahore’s Saggian Bridge, Saeed Khan speaks with quiet resignation. His father must have been only 15 to 17 years of age when he migrated from Afghanistan to Pakistan. Now, after decades of building a life here, everything must be abandoned.
“As children, none of us thought of whether we were Afghan or Pakistani,” he says. “It wasn’t until 2007, when the PoR cards [Proof of Registration] were issued, that we discovered we were Afghan. But the thought never crossed our minds that one day we would be expelled from Pakistan, or that we would have to return to Afghanistan, or that we should establish permanent homes here…these thoughts simply never occurred to us,” says Saeed who is now 30 years old, and lives in Lahore’s slum area called Afghan Basti.
“We’re in the recycling business. We recycle plastic. We’ve faced many hardships, worked hard to get where we are today,” he explains, surrounded by plastic materials waiting to be processed. “The Pakistani government has made its decision, and we can’t say ‘no’ because it’s a state decision. We accept it, we will leave, but I have one request—we have a small business that can’t be wrapped up in one or two months. Our people have financial dealings, money to give to some, money to collect from others. This can’t be resolved so quickly.”
Generations of displacement
Juma Khan, a 50-year-old Afghan refugee living in the Afghan Basti narrates how his father sought refuge in Pakistan after the Soviet invasion in Afghanistan.
“This is a matter of humanity,” Juma Khan says, his weathered face revealing decades of hard work. “We were born here, we’ve spent forty years here. It never occurred to us that a day would come when we would have to leave our homes, businesses, and children behind. It’s beyond our comprehension.”
His voice breaks as he continues: “People say: ‘expel the Afghans! Put them in jail, stop their vehicles, arrest them! Imprison the women!’ This is the love we have received.”
Juma Khan explains their business. “We collect plastic, then workers sort it and put it in machines to make pellets. Then the crusher takes it, crushes it into granules. From these granules, plastic baskets, pipes, and other items are made. We’ve been doing this work for twenty years. Our business spans approximately 26 units.”
He gestures toward the machinery, the product of decades of investment and labor. “Out of necessity, we will destroy all this, sell it for scrap metal prices, and go back. We have no other option. This is the third phase with the PoR cards.”
His voice drops to a whisper.
“We have land, plots, businesses. We have assets worth millions of rupees, everything is ours. Now it must all be abandoned.”
No country to call home
Hikmatullah, 32, Afghan refugee born in Pakistan, shares that his adopted homeland is the only country that he can call home.
“We came in 1979 – my grandfather first came to Quetta; I’ve been living in Lahore for 25 years,” he says. “I’m 31 years old. I don’t want to go to Afghanistan because I’ve never been there – I don’t know anyone there.”
In the narrow alleys of Afghan Basti, children play, unaware of the upheaval that awaits. These children, like Hikmatullah and Saeed, were born in Pakistan. They speak Urdu, attend Pakistani schools, and have never set foot in Afghanistan. Now they face deportation to a country they’ve never seen.
“Our food culture, our language, our dress—everything has blended into Pakistan,” Saeed reflects. “Did you ever think you would be sent back? If we had thought that, we wouldn’t have built such a big future here. If we had thought that Pakistan wouldn’t support us, that they considered us foreigners, then what was the need to build such a future?”
His questions hang in the air, unanswered: “What will we do when we go there? Leave our business, leave our homes—we are currently burning our houses so that we can go back.”
‘Pakistan must honour international covenants on refugees’
High Court lawyer Izzat Fatima says Pakistan must honour international covenants on refugees. In her Lahore office, Izzat Fatima reviews case after case of Afghan refugees facing deportation. “The Convention on the Rights of the Child states that a child should receive citizenship of the country where they are born. Pakistan is not a signatory to the UN’s 1951 Refugee Rights, but has signed ICCPR, CEDAW, and UNHCR agreements.”
She taps a stack of legal documents on her desk.
“We have a duty to human rights. When we know that the Taliban are in power there, obviously there is no war, but the fear of oppression still exists. If at any time you fear oppression from your homeland, the country where you are residing has an obligation to provide you protection.”
Haji Mahmood Khan, 50, Afghan refugee, Vice Chairman of Punjab Pathan Peace Committee, says Afghan nationals have been victims of global politics. “Who is to blame?” asks Haji Mahmood Khan, his voice rising with emotion. “Our Afghan brothers and sisters are not to blame. The culprits are global imperialism, America, and Pakistan, who took dollars and started this war in Afghanistan.”
He references a critical agreement: “The Tripartite Right Agreement was made between us. This agreement was made in Brussels in 2003 between the Afghan government, Pakistan, and UNHCR, and was updated until 2023. Its central point was that whenever Afghans return from Pakistan, it should be voluntary, you will not force them, and you will send them back with dignity.”
“But in the current situation, they neither want to go voluntarily, nor are they being sent back with dignity. Many Afghans come to me, they are being kept in detention centers where conditions are terrible. Videos are coming in daily showing how they are being picked up and thrown out.
“We hosted Afghan brothers and sisters as guests in this country for 40 years, and today their return should be like dropping a guest back at their home. But that’s not happening,” says Izzat Fatima.
Caught in a crisis
“Our women and children were taken to camps on Eid day,” Mahmood Khan says, shaking his head in disbelief. “Pakistan had given a deadline, so people were busy selling their homes, cattle, possessions. We were going to prepare after Eid, but even on the second day of Eid, they arrested our people. Gujarat, Karial, Lala Musa, Jhelum—men endured all kinds of hardships, but it is not right to oppress women and children.”
His voice trembles with emotion: “On Eid day, when people were celebrating, bringing things from the market for their children, we were going to camps to give them water, bread, medicine. This is very sad.
“A woman gave birth on the way, she is lying in the hospital. I have her video. She is still in the Pindi hospital. In Gujarat camps, I told the Pakistani officials to let this woman go to the hospital, in return we would keep 40 other people on bail, when she gets better she would return, but they did not agree.”
He pleads “Say it with love – ‘Afghan brothers, you have been with us for 45 years, now we want to send you back with love.’ That would feel good. Expelling by force doesn’t feel good.”
Identity in limbo
Another Afghan refugee in Afghan Basti says most of the Afghan refugees don’t want to leave their adopted homeland. “We consider ourselves Pakistani. We were raised in Pakistan, we’ve spent 32 years here. This entire lifetime has passed here, we don’t want to leave. If the Pakistani government has decided, we accept it wholeheartedly. What can we do? This land is also our mother, we cannot say ‘no’ to her.
“If someone asks how much it hurts to leave Pakistan, what should we say? If we speak our heart, people will say we are in fear of’the deportation team.
“Think about it, if someone’s parents, grandfather, uncle, aunt are buried here, how painful would it be to leave them behind? I feel like this is our country, we grew up here, our friendships are here, we studied here. We don’t feel like we have any other country. We are feeling a lot of fear and pain.”
A question of justice
Saeed Khan questions why Afghan refugees born in Pakistan were not being considered natives.”If you became Pakistani thirty years after coming to Pakistan, after Pakistan’s independence seventy-eight years ago, why can’t we become Pakistani after forty-eight years? Answer this question, sit in front of us and talk about this.”
Juma Khan echoes the sentiment: “If you became Pakistani in 30 years, why not us in 48 years? The law of equality is different for us and different for you, we don’t understand this.”
Between October 2023 and April 2025, at least 1.2 million Afghan refugees have been deported to Afghanistan under ‘Illegal Foreigner Repatriation Program’. Including those born and raised in Pakistan. Pakistan has ordered all Afghan refugees to leave the country by June, 30th, 2025.
As the Pakistani government’s deadline approaches, the residents of Afghan Basti face an impossible choice: abandon everything they’ve built over generations or face arrest and forced deportation. For many, like Saeed, Juma Khan, and Hikmatullah, the journey “back” to Afghanistan is not a return home but exile to a foreign land.