Dropout Crisis: The school bell rings in half-filled classrooms. The teacher takes the attendance, skipping familiar names that have quietly stopped appearing.
“They dont even say goodbye,” says Aisha, a teacher in Multan. “They just stop coming one day.”
Across Pakistan, in cities and villages across the country, the school dropout rates are climbing once again. It’s a slow, invisible crisis that has been growing since the 2020 pandemic. The reasons appear to be complex, including the escalating cost of living, the allure of screens, post-COVID fatigue, and enduring social hierarchies.
The cost of learning in an expensive world
Education has always been a basic need, but lately it’s been more of a burden.
With the price of the literal basic needs surging, many families are forced to make hard choices. “Fees may look small on paper,” says one school administrator, “but when you add uniforms, notebooks, bus fare, and lunch, it becomes nearly impossible for a daily wage worker to afford.”
A student, shoulders slouched, admits he started missing school to help his father at a small repair shop. “It was supposed to be temporary,” he says. “It’s “It has been six months now; I don’t think I’m going back.”
Teachers always get to watch this pattern, no matter how much they hate it. Watch parents who once proudly sent their kids to school be forced to pull them out, and more often than not, it happens to be the eldest child — especially if it’s a girl.
The digital distraction dilemma
During the pandemic, devices became an escape route. Students tend to spend more time scrolling through their devices than they do studying. “In a world of video, reels, and shortcuts, school feels slow. The student just got used to easy and quick answers,” says Haleema, a public school teacher.
Teachers admit that they literally have to compete with screens to get their student’s attention. Over time, some schools have tried introducing digital tools to keep students interested, but without training or balance, it only made distractions harder to control.
The gender gap reopens
The pandemic just happened to rewind years of work that shrank inequalities in Pakistan. Girls, who already faced higher chances of leaving school early, were hit hardest by post-COVID poverty.
In some parts of Pakistan, girls are once again expected to help out at home once again as things get more difficult. In others, the rate of early marriages rose again. “We thought we’d moved past this,” says an education officer. “But one economic crisis can undo years of progress. I dont even know if we can deal with this again.”
While boys drop out to work, the girls drop out to care; both forms of sacrifice carry quiet consequences.
The system is tired
The schools, the teachers, and the administrators are all worn out. Even the budgets can’t keep up with the rising costs. After COVID, there were promises of recovery learning programmes, remedial classes, mental health sessions, and community outreach. But many of those faded after a few months. “We tried all we could,” says one district officer. “But when funds dry up, good intentions do too.”
The bigger picture
Experts have warned that it might just be more of an economic issue than just an educational one. Dropouts today mean a weaker workforce tomorrow. Lost potential adds up to national loss.
But beyond all the statistics, there are human stories. Students trade schoolbooks for shop counters, teachers mark absentees in silence, and parents are torn between survival and dreams.
A future that still can be saved
The solutions don’t necessarily need to be revolutionary; they just need to be sustainable.
- Train teachers to spot early signs of disengagement.
- Rebuild community trust in schools, especially for girls.
- Balance technology — use it for learning, not distraction.
- Make schooling genuinely free — covering hidden costs like transport and materials.
The dropout process isnt sudden; its slow, steady and reversible.
(2:00 p.m.)
The school bell rings again. The teacher closes her register, glancing once more at the empty seats. “Every empty chair,” she says quietly, “has a story we didn’t finish.”