When a senior Islamabad police officer reportedly took his own life last month, the nation was jolted into grief. But what followed exposed a deeper societal wound. Instead of empathy, a state television journalist derided the deceased as “a coward and a fool.” The remark provoked widespread outrage — and revealed an uncomfortable truth: in Pakistan, mental illness is still viewed as a character flaw rather than a medical condition that demands understanding, care, and policy attention.
At a recent national conference, mental health experts laid out an alarming picture. Nearly one in three Pakistanis — about 34% of the population — suffers from some form of psychological disorder, a rate significantly higher than the global average. Depression and anxiety are pervasive, affecting people across class, gender, and age. Each year, an estimated 1,000 people die by suicide, while 10% of the population struggles with drug addiction. Yet, the stigma remains so suffocating that many sufferers never seek help. Families conceal the illness, fearing social judgment, while patients retreat into silence. This culture of denial is not only cruel — it has become deadly.
Pakistan’s mental health crisis is not accidental; it is manmade, shaped by decades of inequality, political dysfunction, and neglect. Economic hardship has deepened the psychological strain. Inflation, unemployment, and collapsing purchasing power have made daily survival a source of chronic stress. Women, constrained by patriarchy, domestic violence, and systemic inequality, suffer disproportionately — reporting depression at nearly twice the rate of men. For the youth, who make up more than 60% of the population, hopelessness grows as joblessness and a failing education system crush dreams and ambition. What should have been a demographic dividend has turned into a generation on the brink.
Despite the scale of this emergency, Pakistan spends less than 0.5% of its total health budget on mental health — an almost negligible amount. The country has fewer than 100 qualified psychiatrists serving a population of 240 million, roughly one psychiatrist for every half-million citizens, compared to the World Health Organization’s recommended ratio of one per 10,000. Most services are concentrated in major cities, leaving rural and low-income communities without access to even basic mental health support. There are no national suicide-prevention programmes, no counselling services in schools or universities, and no structured rehabilitation networks for those struggling with addiction or trauma.
Parliament’s recent debate on the Mental Health (Amendment) Bill offers a glimmer of progress — but it remains a modest step in the absence of a broader national strategy. For too long, successive governments have outsourced mental health care to NGOs, volunteer groups, and a handful of underfunded helplines, while devoting political attention to more “visible” issues. This neglect has been a catastrophic miscalculation. Without addressing mental well-being, any claim to holistic national progress is hollow.
Mental illness is not a moral weakness; it is a mirror reflecting the fractures of a society stretched beyond endurance. Healing requires investment, education, and empathy — from leaders, communities, and families alike. There can be no real health without mental health, no resilience without compassion, and no progress without care for the minds that sustain the nation.
Shafaqna Pakistan
pakistan.shafaqna.com
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