ONE of Pakistan’s deepest struggles is confronting what feels “different.”
Autism spectrum disorder (ASD) is one such reality. The Autism Society of Pakistan estimated 350,000 children living with autism in 2022, with some reports suggesting closer to 400,000. If global prevalence rates are applied, the figure may be far higher. Yet despite the numbers, autism remains misunderstood, leaving children and families isolated when what they need most is empathy and acceptance.
Autism is not abnormal. It is a neurological condition that shapes how people experience the world. Children on the spectrum often display remarkable strengths—curiosity, focus, creativity and honesty—that deserve recognition. But in Pakistan, society is still learning how to embrace these differences. Our words, attitudes and behavior will determine whether children grow up in support or rejection.
That reality was underscored by a shocking moment in Karachi. At the Gulshan-e-Iqbal Autism Care and Rehabilitation Organization, a viral video showed a young boy, about 10 or 12, struck and pulled by the ears by an assistant as classmates looked on. The staffer was dismissed, but her defense—that the child had bitten her hand—revealed a deeper problem. How could someone working with autistic children not know that patience, not violence, is the response?
Sadly, such cases are not isolated. Reports from Pakistan and abroad show autistic children, especially non-speaking ones, facing mistreatment in spaces meant for safety. These incidents highlight gaps in oversight and in societal attitudes. If caregivers struggle to understand autism, broader acceptance becomes even harder.
For many families here, challenges begin at home. A child’s unusual behavior is often met with denial. Parents may avoid seeking help, fearing the stigma of labels like “special.” That hesitation delays early intervention—vital for developmental progress—and deepens isolation. Limited diagnostic centers and therapy options, particularly outside major cities, worsen the gap.
Experts estimate that six in 1,000 individuals in South Asia are on the spectrum. Applied to Pakistan, that would mean closer to a million autistic children. Yet there is no national database, no large-scale government prevalence study and little investment in inclusive education. The gulf between need and support is staggering.
Change begins with acceptance. Parents need safe spaces to acknowledge their child’s differences without judgment. Teachers must be trained in behavioral management, sensory needs and communication. Communities must learn the basics: to speak respectfully, offer support instead of pity and replace words like “abnormal” with ones that honor dignity.
Autism does not define limits. Many children on the spectrum excel in math, art, technology or music. They can be logical thinkers, sharp observers and innovators—if nurtured in the right environment. To ignore this potential is to overlook the beauty of neurodiversity.
Progress requires collective effort. Families, educators, policymakers and communities must move past stigma toward inclusion. Every child, neurotypical or neurodiverse, has the right to safety, dignity and opportunity. Awareness is the first step, but acceptance and action must follow. Until we learn to see difference as strength, stories like the one in Karachi will repeat. These children are not problems to be hidden—they are possibilities waiting to be embraced.
—The writer is contributing columnist, based in Islamabad.
