When the Mind Is Tired: Rethinking Mental Health on Pakistan’s Campuses

byAalya AnjumSeptember 3, 2025
Magazine cover for HamQadam, September 2025, featuring the headline "What the Pakistan-Saudi Defence Pact Really Means for Muslim Youth" and three standing men: a man in a suit, a man in traditional Saudi attire, and a military officer.

Opening Snapshot: The Silent Semester

Ayesha is a second-year university student in a public-sector university. Her grades are fine. Attendance is regular. On paper, everything looks “normal.”
But most nights, she can’t sleep. Her chest feels tight before exams. She avoids friends, fearing she’ll be called weak or dramatic. When she once hinted at needing help, she was told: “Namaz parho, sab theek ho jaye ga.”

Ayesha’s story isn’t rare—it’s routine.

Across Pakistan’s campuses, students are quietly struggling with anxiety, depression, burnout, and emotional exhaustion. Mental health has become a shared but unspoken crisis. While universities emphasize performance, rankings, and employability, the inner lives of students are often treated as secondary—or worse, as a personal failing.

This silence has a cost. Not just academic, but moral and societal.

Why This Issue Exists

Mental health challenges in Pakistan’s higher education system are not emerging in a vacuum. They are the product of layered pressures:

Academic overload: Competitive grading, rigid assessment systems, and fear of failure dominate campus life.
Socioeconomic stress: Rising inflation, family expectations, and uncertain job markets weigh heavily on students.
Cultural stigma: Mental distress is often equated with weak faith or poor character.
Institutional gaps: Counseling services, where they exist, are understaffed, poorly advertised, or inaccessible.

Recent research from Pakistani universities shows that while a majority of students experience significant stress, less than one-third ever access psychological services—even when they are available. The issue, therefore, is not only lack of services, but lack of trust, awareness, and normalization.

What Students Often Get Wrong

Many students internalize harmful assumptions:

“Everyone is stressed—this is normal.”
Stress may be common, but chronic anxiety and depression are not harmless rites of passage.

“Strong Muslims don’t struggle mentally.”
Islam never equated faith with emotional invulnerability. The Qur’an acknowledges grief, fear, and sorrow as human realities—not spiritual failures.

“I’ll deal with it after graduation.”
Unchecked mental health struggles don’t pause for degrees. They compound over time, affecting relationships, productivity, and faith itself.

These misconceptions push students toward isolation, self-blame, and silence.

Impact on Muslim Identity & Society

Mental health neglect doesn’t just harm individuals—it reshapes society.

A generation taught to suppress emotions may excel academically but struggle ethically, relationally, and spiritually. When distress is moralized rather than addressed, students learn to perform wellness rather than pursue it.

This has broader consequences:

  • Reduced academic engagement
  • Higher dropout rates
  • Emotional disconnection from faith communities
  • Future professionals entering society already burned out

For a community that speaks of amanah (trust) and khilafah (responsibility), ignoring the mental well-being of its youth is a serious contradiction.

Islamic Lens: Mental Well-Being as an Amanah

Islam approaches mental health through balance, not denial.

Human dignity (karamah) includes emotional and psychological well-being. The objectives of Shariah (Maqasid al-Shariah) emphasize the protection of life, intellect, and dignity—all of which are compromised when mental health is ignored.

The Prophet ﷺ acknowledged emotional pain, sought counsel, rested, and created space for grief and reflection. Companions expressed fear, sadness, and exhaustion—and were not shamed for it.

Islamic ethics does not ask students to “pray away” distress. It asks communities to:

  • Reduce harm
  • Offer support
  • Remove stigma
  • Create structures of care

Seeking help is not a sign of weak faith—it is an act of responsibility.

Ethical Tensions & Trade-offs

Universities often face real constraints: limited budgets, shortage of trained professionals, and administrative inertia. Yet prioritizing mental health is not a luxury—it is an ethical investment.

Ignoring mental health may preserve short-term efficiency, but it erodes long-term academic quality, civic engagement, and trust in institutions. The trade-off is clear: performance without well-being is unsustainable.

Action Framework: A Student Roadmap

If you’re a student navigating this reality, here’s what constructive action can look like:

  • Normalize the Conversation: Speak about mental health without shame—in classrooms, societies, and friend circles.
  • Know Your Resources: Identify counseling services on your campus, even if you never need them.
  • Seek Help Early: You don’t need to be “at breaking point” to talk to someone.
  • Support Each Other: Sometimes listening is more powerful than advice.
  • Advocate Responsibly: Student councils and societies can push administrations for better services, awareness campaigns, and confidentiality safeguards.
  • Integrate Faith Wisely: Use spiritual practices as support—not substitutes—for professional care.

Reflection

Pakistan’s universities are producing degrees at scale—but who is caring for the minds behind them?

Mental health is not a Western import, a weakness, or a distraction from faith. It is a matter of justice, dignity, and responsibility. A community serious about revival must be serious about well-being.

The future will not be shaped only by brilliant minds—but by healthy, balanced, and ethically grounded ones. As students, you are not just learners. You are caretakers of a trust—starting with yourselves.