London, January 2025 — When Adeelah, 21, told her parents she wanted to study film production at university, she braced herself for the reaction. “My father said, ‘Beta, film ka kya future hai? Why not medicine or law?’ But I explained that this is my passion. I don’t want to do a degree just because others expect it.”
For decades, Pakistani families in Britain have encouraged their children towards the so-called “secure” careers — doctors, engineers, lawyers. But a new generation is quietly breaking away, pursuing creative, technical, and entrepreneurial paths that reflect both their interests and the realities of the modern job market.
A slow but visible shift
Mariam, 19, is training in digital marketing. “I used to hear, ‘Girls should become teachers or doctors.’ But I saw so many opportunities online. Companies pay for social media work, and it suits me. I’m learning something that feels current.”
Meanwhile, Imtiyaz, 23, left university after two years studying pharmacy. “I realised I wasn’t happy. I switched to an apprenticeship in IT. My parents were shocked at first, but now they see I have steady income and a clear path forward.”
Parental expectations vs. personal goals
For many, the challenge lies in balancing respect for parents’ hopes with their own ambitions. Samira, 22, said: “My parents sacrificed a lot to move here. Of course they want me to succeed. But success for them means doctor or lawyer. Success for me means enjoying my work. I’m studying architecture — still professional, but not what they first imagined.”
Sometimes the disagreements are sharper. Adeelah admitted: “My relatives gossip — ‘She wants to work in film, is that even a career?’ But I try not to listen. Times are changing.”
Community role models
Young people say it helps to see role models in new fields. Khalil, 25, runs a small graphic design business in East London. “I started by making logos for friends. Now I have regular clients. When younger cousins see me doing this, they realise creative work can be real work.”
Schools and universities also play a role. Mariam said: “My college encouraged me to look at digital apprenticeships. That gave me the courage to convince my parents. Without that support, I might not have dared.”
The weight of tradition
Despite progress, old patterns remain strong. Many still feel pressure to follow “safe” options. Imtiyaz noted: “Some of my friends are in medicine because their families insisted, even if they didn’t want to. It’s hard to go against your parents. In our culture, family approval matters a lot.”
Samira agreed: “It’s not just about jobs. It’s about izzat (family honour). Parents want to tell relatives, ‘My son is a doctor, my daughter is a solicitor.’ It’s a badge of pride.”
Looking forward
Still, optimism shines through. Adeelah hopes to direct a short film this year. Mariam wants to launch her own small marketing agency. Imtiyaz is aiming for a full-time IT role after his apprenticeship ends.
“Maybe in ten years,” Khalil said, “no one will think twice if a Pakistani student says they want to be a designer, filmmaker, or entrepreneur. It will just be normal.”
لندن میں پاکستانی نژاد نوجوان اب صرف ڈاکٹر یا وکیل بننے کے خواب تک محدود نہیں رہے۔ وہ نئی راہوں پر قدم رکھ رہے ہیں، چاہے وہ فلم، آئی ٹی، ڈجیٹل مارکیٹنگ یا ڈیزائن ہو۔
عدیلہ نے فلم پروڈکشن کا انتخاب کیا تو والدین نے سوال اٹھایا کہ اس کا مستقبل کیا ہے، مگر وہ اپنے شوق پر ڈٹی رہیں۔
مریم ڈجیٹل مارکیٹنگ سیکھ رہی ہیں اور کہتی ہیں کہ آن لائن مواقع آج کے دور کی حقیقت ہیں۔
امتیاز نے فارمیسی کی ڈگری چھوڑ کر آئی ٹی اپرنٹس شپ اختیار کی، اور اب ان کے والدین دیکھ رہے ہیں کہ یہ بھی ایک محفوظ راستہ ہے۔
سمیرا آرکیٹیکچر پڑھ رہی ہیں اور وضاحت کرتی ہیں کہ والدین عزت اور کامیابی کو ڈاکٹر اور وکیل کی نظر سے دیکھتے ہیں، لیکن آج کامیابی کی تعریف بدل رہی ہے۔
خلیل جیسا نوجوان، جو گرافک ڈیزائن کا چھوٹا بزنس چلا رہا ہے، نئے رول ماڈل بن رہے ہیں۔ وہ کہتے ہیں کہ دس سال بعد شاید کوئی حیران نہ ہو اگر پاکستانی نوجوان فلم، ڈیزائن یا بزنس کا انتخاب کریں۔
یہ تبدیلی آہستہ ہے مگر حقیقت ہے — نئی نسل اپنے خوابوں اور صلاحیتوں کو آگے لانے کے لیے پرعزم ہے۔
