Pursuing higher education in Pakistan has never been easy for refugees. Completing a Master’s or MS program typically costs 700,000 to 1,000,000 PKR, an unimaginable sum for most refugee families.
In the quiet classrooms of Pakistani universities, thousands of Afghan students – many in the last stretch of their advanced degrees – are living with an unrelenting countdown. On 31 August 2025, Pakistan’s government has ordered that all Afghan nationals must leave the country or face arrest and deportation. For most, this means abandoning years of study, sacrifice, and ambition. For Afghan girls in particular, it could mean the end of education forever.
A Deadline That Ends More Than Studies
Pakistan’s policy applies without exception – to Afghans with Proof of Registration (PoR) cards, Afghan Citizen Cards (ACC), and even those undocumented. The move has spread fear across refugee communities, but none feel it more sharply than students enrolled in Master’s and MS programs. Many are in their second, third, or even final semesters, just weeks away from completing degrees.
“I am just three months from finishing my thesis,” said Muska Safi, a young Afghan student, speaking at a press conference at the Peshawar Press Club. “If we are forced to leave now, everything my family has sacrificed will be wasted. For Afghan girls, this is not just an interruption – it is the end.”
The reason is stark: in Afghanistan, current restrictions prohibit girls and women from secondary school and higher education. Returning home would shut classroom doors permanently for thousands of young women.
Sacrifices Made in Vain
Pursuing higher education in Pakistan has never been easy for refugees. Completing a Master’s or MS program typically costs 700,000 to 1,000,000 PKR, an unimaginable sum for most refugee families. Parents often sell livestock, or other assets, or take on crushing debts, believing their children’s education would secure a better future.
Now, those investments hang in limbo. “Our families gave up everything to see us graduate,” said Asadullah Safi, another student leader. “If we are deported, these sacrifices will mean nothing.”
For many, starting over in Afghanistan or another country is not an option – financially impossible and emotionally devastating. Even if credits could transfer, Afghan universities are not currently recognized as safe or stable institutions for higher education.
Fear on Campuses
The looming deadline has poisoned the atmosphere in universities across Pakistan. Students report struggling to concentrate in class, fearing that police checks could begin at any time. Some have already dropped out, terrified of detention or harassment.
The anxiety is sharper for women, who have fought cultural and financial barriers just to reach a classroom. For them, Pakistan was not just a host country but a rare space where ambition could flourish. “Going back means stepping into silence,” said one female student who asked not to be named. “This could be my last semester ever.”
University professors and staff have voiced their dismay at the decision. Many describe Afghan students as talented, hardworking, and active contributors to academic life. Removing them, they warn, wastes human potential and damages the educational ties between the two countries.
International rights groups echo these concerns. The UN Refugee Convention and other treaties protect the right to education, obligations to which Pakistan is a signatory. Human rights advocates argue that even temporary protection – such as extending visas until students complete their degrees – would balance humanitarian needs with Pakistan’s security concerns.
Students Appeal for Extension
At their press conference, Afghan students formally urged the government of Pakistan to grant them a five-year extension to complete their education.
“Thousands of us are studying in colleges and universities across the country. It is simply impossible to leave everything unfinished,” said student spokesperson Agha Jan Humraz. He expressed gratitude to the people of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa for decades of hospitality but alleged that authorities in Punjab have harassed students, even evicting them from hostels.
The students appealed to both Pakistani authorities and international organizations such as UNHCR to intervene. They also urged Pakistan to ease visa procedures for Afghan students who wish to study legally, noting that current processes are mired in delays and rejections.
The sharpest impact of this policy will fall on Afghan women. For them, the 31 August deadline is not just a border to cross but a wall that bars them from returning to education.
Dreams of becoming doctors, teachers, and engineers will dissolve into lives where ambition is outlawed. “The classrooms we sit in today could be the last we will ever see,” said student leader Muska Safi.
Educators warn that depriving Afghan women of education not only crushes personal futures but also undermines the broader goal of rebuilding Afghanistan. Skilled women professionals are essential in healthcare, education, and development – but only if they are allowed to graduate.
A Question of Humanity
For decades, Pakistan has hosted millions of Afghan refugees, often at immense cost to itself, but also with compassion. Many Afghans have come to see Pakistan as more than a sanctuary – a partner in building a more hopeful future through education.
Afghan students argue that allowing them to complete their studies would honor that history and serve both nations. Graduates could return to Afghanistan with skills to contribute to stability and development, while also fostering goodwill toward Pakistan.
As the August deadline approaches, Afghan students continue to attend lectures, write dissertations, and prepare for exams – all while knowing their time may be cut short. The atmosphere on campuses is heavy with dread.
If the policy goes ahead unchanged, thousands will be forced to leave without their degrees, their books packed away, their futures interrupted. The loss will be felt not just by the students and their families but also by the vision of education as a bridge between nations.
For Afghan refugee girls, the stakes are even more profound. Their fight to learn is already a battle against restrictions, tradition, and exile. The 31 August deadline could silence their voices forever.
As the clock ticks down, these students wait – hoping for a decision that sees them not as numbers on a deportation list, but as young people with dreams, potential, and the right to learn.

