Beyond the Headlines: What Twelve Days in Pakistan Taught Me

For three years, I found reasons not to go to Pakistan.

My colleague Zeeshan kept asking. Come, meet the education people, see the market for yourself. I always said yes in principle and no in practice. Part of it was the news. What I knew of Pakistan came mostly from headlines about security incidents and political uncertainty, and the people around me had their own worries. I had worked across plenty of international education markets, but this one I knew only through reports, statistics and other people’s stories.

In late October, I finally went. Twelve days, four cities: Lahore, Gujranwala, Islamabad and Karachi. I packed a full meeting schedule and a fair amount of hesitation. The hesitation lasted until about midnight on my first night.

Quetta chai at midnight

The arrival had already surprised me. Immigration was easy, and my pickup and hotel had been arranged personally by Osama, who owns TravelPakistani.com and kept checking in on me throughout the trip.

Later that night I went out for Quetta chai. It was close to midnight and the shops were still open. Families were out, people were talking, and the evening was just carrying on. There was nothing remarkable about it, and I still remember it better than most of the meetings that followed. I had come with a picture of Pakistan painted entirely from a distance. Sitting there with a cup of tea, I could see how much of it was missing.

People who know this market

The work began in Lahore, with education consultants who have spent years, some of them decades, advising students and dealing with institutions abroad. I was impressed by how well they knew Australian higher education. They could talk about visa requirements and policy changes in detail, and they understood how hard it is for a family to decide whether to send a son or daughter overseas.

They were also frank. Australia is still a first choice for many of their students, but they talked openly about visa refusals, about uncertainty, and about students and parents rethinking their options. Several mentioned rising interest in Europe and changing views of the United Kingdom. These were individual impressions, not survey results, but they told me a lot about how families are thinking right now.

I had come with a picture of Pakistan painted entirely from a distance.

The official numbers add some background.

Source: Australian Government data; visa grants per Department of Home Affairs.

Those are different measures, and they can’t explain demand on their own. They do describe the ground these consultants are working on.

What I took away is that these people are not just selling destinations. They spend their days talking about expectations, about institutions changing their requirements, and about their responsibility to give students honest advice.

Being there is not the same as staying in touch

Australian universities, including some of the best known, are already active in Pakistan. They have representatives, partnerships and recruitment programs. Presence is not the problem.

What I heard is that the way institutions recruit is changing. Some have become more selective, some are taking fewer students, and others are simply more cautious. There are good reasons for that. Academic standards, student preparedness and compliance obligations have to come first.

But I kept coming back to communication. When requirements change, the people on the ground need to hear about it clearly and early, so they can be honest with the families they advise. A relationship built over many years shouldn’t fade just because recruiting has become harder.

In Islamabad I met Mr Azhar Shah, Director of Austrade Pakistan, and I was grateful for his welcome and the chance to exchange views on international education and continued engagement in the market. Pakistan is not a new market for Australia. The task now is to keep trust intact while policy and recruitment settings keep shifting.

A relationship built over many years shouldn’t fade just because recruiting has become harder.

Between meetings

Work filled most of the twelve days, but I tried to see something of each city.

Lahore was lively and warm, and full of history. I squeezed in a visit to Lahore Fort and Badshahi Mosque, though thirty minutes does neither any justice. One evening I had dinner at Haveli Restaurant, looking out over the mosque. It is one of my favourite memories of the whole trip.

The food needs its own mention. Biryani, pulao, paratha and halwa turned up in nearly every day. I hardly ever eat halwa at home, yet in Pakistan I had it almost daily.

In Gujranwala I met businesspeople with real entrepreneurial energy. They talked openly about their work and about how much they value trusted relationships.

Islamabad had a different feel, with its greenery, planned neighbourhoods and views toward the Margalla Hills. I visited Saidpur Village, enjoyed the heritage there, and got to wear a Shalwar Kameez. People kept bringing up Hunza, Skardu and Gilgit, but my schedule had no room for the north. They are on the list for next time.

Karachi came last. It is busy, commercial and full of contrasts. I was interested in the port, the business districts, the modern hotels and the waterfront developments, including projects linked to Emaar, and the scale of activity struck me. I also noticed the traffic, the pollution, the waste and the strain on urban infrastructure, areas where steady investment would clearly make a difference. Karachi was nothing like Lahore or Islamabad. Each city had its own pace and character, and that variety was a big part of what made the trip worth it.

The people behind the numbers

In international education we talk in enrolments, visa grants, policy settings and forecasts. I work with these measures every day, and they matter. But this trip reminded me what they leave out.

They don’t show you the consultant who has spent twenty years advising students. They don’t show the family trying to make sense of changing visa rules. They can’t capture the confidence that comes from years of working together, and they certainly can’t replace a conversation over tea.

I came home with more respect for the people I met, and a clearer sense of why Australian institutions should keep up regular dialogue with their long-standing local partners, especially when conditions get harder. That doesn’t mean lowering standards or brushing aside legitimate policy concerns. It means recognising that responsible recruitment, clear communication and long relationships belong together.

They certainly can’t replace a conversation over tea.

Eight years without milk tea

The trip had one less serious effect. I hadn’t had milk tea in almost eight years, and that ended almost at once. Quetta-style chai became part of my day. Meetings started with tea, conversations carried on over tea, and some nights we stopped for one more cup.

Back in Kathmandu recently, I had milk tea with Nimco, and it took me straight back to those evenings. I also still miss the cream paratha.

A different picture

Twelve days is not enough to understand a country, and Pakistan, like anywhere, has its strengths, complexities and challenges. But I now have something I didn’t have before: my own experience. I met knowledgeable professionals, ambitious business owners and generous hosts. I saw historic landmarks, modern developments and ordinary life in four very different cities.

I’m grateful to Zeeshan for not giving up on me, to Osama for looking after me so well, and to the education professionals, business people and friends who gave me their time.

To my fellow Australian education stakeholders, my message is simple. Pakistan already has a strong relationship with Australian education, and keeping it strong takes more than a presence in the market. It takes listening, consistency and mutual respect. And for me personally, the trip was a reminder not to let second-hand impressions become the only thing I know about a place.

I went with a full schedule and some hesitation. I came back with stronger professional connections, new friendships and a lot of good memories. And after eight years without milk tea, I came home looking for another cup.

Shukriya, Pakistan.