Some six million Afghans have been forcibly returned from Iran and Pakistan since September 2023, almost half of them in 2025, making it one of the largest return movements of any nationality in recent decades. 2.26 million people returned from Pakistan, one million in 2025 alone, amid an intensifying deportation campaign launched in September 2023 by the Pakistani government under its multi-phased Illegal Foreigners Repatriation Plan (IFRP), which targeted undocumented Afghans, holders of Afghan Citizen Cards (ACCs) and later even those holding Proof of Registration (PoR) cards. Drawing on interviews with a dozen returnee heads of household, most of whom returned last year, far from encountering anything like successful reintegration, Nur Khan Himmat and Jelena Bjelica paint a grim picture of return, of a population working through savings, going into debt – and considering trying to emigrate again.
Afghan returnees from Pakistan at a registration centre in Takhta Pul district of Kandahar province. Photo: Sanaullah Seiam/AFP, 13 April 2025
When Juma Khan returned from Pakistan in November 2025 with his family of 18, he did not return to his home district in Kunduz province. Instead, he settled in Kandahar, hoping that the province’s proximity to Pakistan, warmer climate and larger labour market would make life easier for his household. Several months later, none of the men in his household had found work. “Eight male members of our family, including me, are adults,” he said. “Two are educated. We are all jobless. There aren’t any jobs out here. We can work, but there is no work for us to do.”
Juma Khan is among the one-third of returnees who decided not to return to their place of origin. Also, like more than half of returnee heads of households, he is an unskilled labourer struggling to find work in Afghanistan’s shrunken economy.Again, like most, he had not planned to leave Pakistan. Rather, he and millions of other Afghans returned amid a deportation campaign that has only intensified since September 2023 (see also AAN’s earlier report about returns from Pakistan in 2024 and 2025). For many families like Juma Khan’s, the decision to leave Pakistan was made under pressure. Now that he is back in Afghanistan, he finds himself depending on scarce aid provided by United Nations agencies, the Afghan government and his own wits.
This report draws on a dozen interviews conducted in March and April 2026 with male heads of households who are currently living in Kabul, Kandahar, Helmand and Kunduz provinces (all names have been changed to protect their privacy), as well as findings from recent assessments by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) and the International Organisation for Migration (IOM). Together, they tell a story of families relying on relatives, debt and a little humanitarian assistance. A shortage of housing, unemployment and barriers to children getting an education reinforce one another, creating a cycle of vulnerability, leading many to consider remigration as the only viable solution.
Returning under pressure
As policies towards Afghans living in both Pakistan and Iran hardened over recent years, returns have surged. Some 6.04 million Afghans returned from both countries between 15 September 2023 and 31 May 2026, increasing Afghanistan’s population by an estimated 10 to 12 per cent. This report focuses on returns from Pakistan where, since the Saur coup d’état of 1978, there have been waves of mass emigration and return. However, the scale and speed of returns from that country in 2025 were unprecedented. There has also been a notable increase in the number of families among the returnees, particularly Afghans who have lived there for decades (UNHCR). Many of the returnees had spent most of their lives in Pakistan. Some had never lived in Afghanistan at all. Children accounted for more than half of the returnee population, with many born and educated there. For most families, return was often under duress and in fear of Pakistani authorities. According to UNHCR, a majority of Afghan returnees from Iran and Pakistan reported having no choice in their decision to return and, among those from Pakistan, 61 per cent reported that their return was involuntary (UNHCR).
Muhammad Anwar, the head of a 13-member household and a carpenter from Kunduz, said his family delayed leaving as long as possible. They had been living in Loralai, in Pakistan’s Balochistan province, when local authorities began intensifying pressure on Afghan refugees. “Our family returned to Afghanistan in November 2025,” he said. “We didn’t want to return, but the Pakistani police were arresting everyone. We couldn’t leave our home. The police came to our house several times and gave our children a paper warning us to return to our country.”
Wali Khan, a farmer and the head of a 10-member household, originally from the Khakrez district of Kandahar, described how his return was triggered by the arrest of two of his sons by the Pakistani police:
My two oldest sons were arrested and kept in detention for three days, released only on condition that our family return to Afghanistan. I’d already packed up my house belongings and what I couldn’t pack, I sold. As soon as my sons were released, I rented a truck and returned to the country.
Wali Khan and Muhammad Anwar were typical of those who left behind homes, jobs, businesses and social networks built up over decades and, on arrival in their homeland, they were faced with a harsh economic reality.
A homecoming without a home
The first challenge for the returnees is finding a place to live. Those returning after years or even decades abroad find that available housing is scarce. Some no longer have homes in their place of origin. Others find that family land has been divided, occupied or sold. Many arrive with limited savings and little ability to build or purchase housing. As a result, renting has become the dominant housing arrangement among returnees, with increased demand and scarcity of housing pushing up rents for everyone. According to research by IOM, almost two-thirds of returnee households rent their accommodation. However, it said housing tenure is often insecure, with only one-quarter of renters having written rental agreements. Most rely on informal verbal arrangements, which increases their vulnerability to eviction and hikes in rent and reduces their legal protection. Housing insecurity, therefore, is one of the first and most immediate pressures confronting newly arrived families.
All, except one of AAN’s interviewees, were living in rented houses. Several had deliberately chosen not to return to their home province or district because they believed opportunities would be better elsewhere and were renting housing. According to UNHCR, the main reasons for returnees not settling in their area of origin were the lack of shelter, limited livelihoods and insufficient land (UNHCR). Jamal, an AAN interviewee, originally from Balkh province, had settled in Kandahar because he had no house in his home district and believed that the warmer climate and proximity to Pakistan would offer more opportunities. Others cited employment opportunities as the primary reason for choosing alternative destinations.
Wali Khan, the farmer from Khakrez, had moved to the Daman district of Kandahar and shares an overcrowded, rented house with his brother. “I have neither house nor farmland in my own province,” he said. “The rent here is 3,000 afghanis. I pay half and my brother pays half.”
The only interviewee not renting was staying with a relative. The family of the Kunduz carpenter, Muhammad Anwar, is living in a relative’s house free of charge, but there are problems:
I don’t have a home in my own province, but someone from my village, who’s also our close relative, gave me his house to live in for free. He has yet to return from Pakistan. The house has no drinking water. Some returnee families have dug ponds in front of their houses. They sometimes draw up water from an irrigation canal with an underwater water pump. They drink and use the water from there for days and when it dries up, they refill it.
There are many who, like Muhammad Anwar, are staying with relatives, friends or in host communities, reflecting the continued importance of social networks for shelter. But even those households often face poor living conditions. IOM’s October 2025 Returnee Resilience Overview found that the majority of returnees live in inadequate housing. Female-headed households (around 15 per cent of all returned families in 2025), IOM said, faced even greater problems, with 15 per cent living in unfinished, non-enclosed or makeshift structures, nearly four times the rate of male-headed households.
Many returnees hope they will eventually be able to settle on their own piece of land and are waiting for the land the government has promised.
Afghan returnees wait beside loaded trucks at a holding centre near the Pakistan-Afghanistan border in Chaman. Photo: Abdul Basit/AFP, 27 April 2025.
Promised lands
The Islamic Emirate has been distributing cash grants at the border of 2,000 afghanis (around USD 30) per individual, but has also repeatedly claimed to have begun distributing land to returnees, although the numbers announced are tiny compared to the number of returnee households. Only one of our interviewees has received a plot so far. Abdul Karim, an unskilled labourer with 10 members in his household, who was among the first to return in 2023, received a plot only recently, but the land had no water or basic infrastructure:
I got the land in Zheray district of Kandahar nearly a month ago. It’s a 10-minute motorbike ride from the Herat to Kandahar highway. I went there and identified my plot. There was only one well dug in the township. There wasn’t enough water for us to even build our houses. There are no schools, hospitals or other infrastructure in the township. [Not surprisingly] the returnees haven’t moved there yet. The Emirate insists that after we move and build homes, it will also build schools and hospitals for us. There are designated spaces for schools, madrasas and hospitals.
Abdul Karim is jobless and pays rent of 3,000 afghanis (USD 50), which he can barely afford. He says he would move to his land if there was water:
I would then go and build at least a perimeter wall and erect a tent to save on rent. But I can’t take my family there now. There is no water! What would we drink? The city is better than that township. At least sometimes, there’s some work. There are no jobs at all in the township.
Another returnee, Ahmad Khan, a father of six, had owned a grocery shop in Pakistan and returned in early 2025. He is originally from Kunduz but the long wait for land to be distributed there has left him stranded in Kandahar, in Daman district:
I chose to [initially] live in Kandahar, thinking there would be more jobs available. I had some money and rented a house here. But I did go to Kunduz to register with the department responsible for distributing land to returnees. The Emirate is now distributing land in Kunduz. But I don’t have the money even to eat or feed my children. How should I move my family to Kunduz and how should I build a house when I have no money? If they’d given me land when I first arrived, I’d have had money then and would’ve been happy to go there and build a house. But I’ve spent my money on rent in Kandahar. I’ll never get to Kunduz. Maybe, if the government or an NGO builds me a house, then I could go back. But no, I’m very sad and disappointed with the Emirate.
Ahmad Khan said that although he had not received a call from the Emirate, his relatives in Kunduz told him they had seen his name on the list for a plot:
My relatives who returned a few months ago told me that they’d got land from the Emirate and that it had told them that if they wanted to build houses, they could begin; they shouldn’t wait until the government or an NGO launches plans to build homes for returnees.
All the returnees interviewed for this report who returned in 2025 said they had registered with the government’s refugee department for land plots but had not received any land yet. Hashim Khan, an unskilled labourer, also from Kunduz, returned in June 2024 and registered to get a plot in May 2025. He was told they would contact him in six months’ time, but he had still not received a call. Some more recent returnees, such as Aslam Khan, a teacher in Pakistan who returned in February 2026 have not even been allowed to register.
The UNHCR and IOM reports consistently highlight the lack of access to land as one of the principal obstacles to sustainable reintegration. UNHCR’s December 2025 Post-Return Monitoring Survey found that among returnees who did not resettle in their place of origin, 46 per cent cited a shortage of land as a key reason. Returnees from Pakistan appear to face greater housing and land-related difficulties than those returning from Iran. They are also less likely to own or inherit housing upon return.
The IOM 2025 Returnee Resilience Overview also found that land and housing constraints are important drivers of secondary displacement. One-third of returnees who were not living in their place of origin reported that their housing or land had been destroyed, occupied or was otherwise unavailable. As a result, many settled elsewhere or had moved multiple times after returning to Afghanistan.
Rather than benefiting from land distribution, many returnees continue to face difficulties accessing land and securing stable housing after their return to Afghanistan.
Surviving through uncertainty
If housing is the most evident challenge facing returnees, unemployment is the problem that underlies almost every other difficulty. Across Afghanistan, the interviewees repeatedly identified access to work as their most urgent concern. Without a stable income, families struggle to pay the rent, buy food, send children to school and repay debts accumulated during and after their return. Interviews conducted for this report suggest that many households are surviving not because they have successfully re-established livelihoods, but because they continue to draw on savings, borrow money, or rely on relatives and humanitarian assistance.
Wali Khan, the farmer in Kandahar, came back with approximately 70,000 afghanis (USD 1,100) in savings. Several months later, he had exhausted most of it on rent, food and daily household expenses:
It’s difficult to manage expenses here. I spend 17,500 afghanis [USD 275] a month. We [the two families comprising his household] were given 14,000 afghanis [USD 220] by the IEA when we returned. One of my relatives who lives in Kabul sent me 25,000 afghanis [USD 390] as zakat [charity]. So, I’ve been spending this money since the time of our arrival in Kandahar. I’ve now almost finished my savings and I don’t know how I’ll manage to feed my children here after that.
Many, like Juma Khan, whose story opened this report, believed that Kandahar, as one of Afghanistan’s larger cities and a major destination for returnees, would provide better access to work than their home districts. Juma Khan had also believed that his savings would last him until his family members secured jobs:
I had 80,000 afghanis [USD 1,250] with me when I returned from Pakistan. I also brought two motorbikes. I spent the money I had. I sold the motorbikes and spent that money as well. I’m now extremely concerned about the future of my household.
Several other interviewees said they had chosen their destination based on rumours or assumptions about employment opportunities. However, like Juma Khan, they found themselves competing with thousands of other returnees, as well as internally displaced people and local residents, for a limited number of jobs. He was hoping for help from the government or NGOs: “We are living hand-to-mouth,” he said, “we soon might not have anything to eat.”
Even those with education or skills often struggle to find employment. The two older sons of Wali Khan (who were detained by police before promising the family would leave Pakistan) were both secondary school graduates and preparing for university entrance examinations. Only one of the sons, who speaks English, has found a part-time job in a language school. His salary was just 2,500 afghanis (USD 40) a month, “not enough,” said his father, “to even cover his own expenses.”
Broader research, such as UNHCR’s post-return monitoring, which is based on interviews with 1,658 returnee households from Pakistan and Iran, found that although a majority of returnees from Pakistan reported having some source of income, most commonly it was from irregular daily wage labour. More than nine out of ten returnee households earned less than 10,000 afghani (approximately USD 147) per month, while nearly nine out of ten households reported being in debt (UNHCR). For many families, earnings are insufficient even to cover basic living expenses, including caring for the sick and elderly.
Healthcare costs and limited availability of services place enormous pressure on already vulnerable households. UNHCR found that returnees frequently identified healthcare as a priority upon arrival, and many indebted households reported borrowing money to pay for medical treatment and medicines (UNHCR). Many communities in the UNHCR survey also reported shortages of health facilities, long travel distances to clinics and inadequate healthcare services in many return areas. Women, people with disabilities and households lacking civil documentation face particular barriers in accessing care. These challenges are unfolding at a time when declining humanitarian funding is placing additional strain on Afghanistan’s already fragile health system (see this recent AAN report), raising concerns about returnees’ ability to access essential healthcare services in the future.
For households with many dependents, the consequences of both high outgoings and unemployment were daunting. Almost all AAN interviewees showed the same growing anxiety as Wali Khan and Juma Khan about their ability to feed their families in the months ahead. This is why many returnees resort to borrowing from family and friends.
Debt as a means of survival
The clearest indication of the depth of the crisis is the extent to which returnees have borrowed to survive – and with little hope of paying the debts back. According to the UNHCR Post-Return Monitoring Survey, nearly 90 per cent of returnee households are in debt and most report owing more than they earn in an average month (UNHCR). The overwhelming majority say their debt increased after returning to Afghanistan. Borrowing is primarily used to meet essential needs – notably food (72 per cent), healthcare (64 per cent) and rent (31 per cent) — underscoring the extent to which many households rely on debt to survive (UNHCR). The interviews for this report echo UNHCR findings, with borrowing used not for investment or business activities, but simply to meet basic needs. Wali Khan, the farmer from Khakrez district, had to borrow from a former employer after his family exhausted their savings:
I’d brought some money with me from Pakistan. We spent that money within three months. I paid the rent for the house and spent the rest on food and other non-food items, including medicines for family members when they got sick. [When my savings were exhausted], I borrowed 20,000 afghanis [USD 320] from a person who my three sons and I had worked for in Pakistan for more than a year. After I spent that money, I messaged him again to ask him to send me the same amount.
His old employer said he would extend further loans, but only with a condition attached:
He couldn’t send me more money, he said, because I wouldn’t be able to pay him back. Instead, he told me to send my two sons to Pakistan, one to work for him to pay off my loan and the other to send us money in Afghanistan.
Wali Khan reluctantly sent two sons, his firstborn, a 22-year-old and his thirdborn, a 17-year-old, back to Pakistan to pay off his debt:
A few days before Eid, I sent them to Pakistan. There was no alternative. Luckily, another route near the gate between Afghanistan and Pakistan was unguarded for about four days and my sons were able to cross through and join the man who’d lent me money. When my sons arrived, the person sent me money. Now, one’s working for him at his house and he protects him from the police and the other is working somewhere else.
For other returnee families, the consequences of debt are even more severe. Abdul Ghani, a farmer from Kunduz province, described how repeated borrowing eventually left him unable to repay a creditor:
I returned from Pakistan around 14 months ago. I spent all the money I’d brought back with me. I borrowed money from someone from my village three times. In total, it was 85,000 afghanis [USD 1,350]. Both he and I thought I’d be able to pay the money back, but I couldn’t because there are no jobs. I asked him for some more money and he lent it to me for a fourth time. This time, he told me he wanted all his money paid back in three months, or I should sell him my four jeribs [0.8 hectares] of land. It was a rain-fed field and very cheap. Three months passed and I still didn’t have the money to pay off the loan.
The lender demanded that Abdul Ghani sell his agricultural land. He refused. He then decided that still weighs heavily on him:
There was no alternative left for me. I consulted my wife and we agreed to marry our fourteen-year-old daughter to another man from our village. We did that. We thought we should keep our land for our [other] children – that the good days might come back. The person gave us 100,000 afghanis, around [USD 1,600]. He’ll have to pay us an additional 270,000 afghanis [USD 4,250] before the marriage.
The bride price Abdul Ghani got from the groom allowed the family to settle its debt and retain ownership of the land, but did not improve their general condition. “We sacrificed our daughter to save the lives of her brothers and sisters,” he said, “and keep hold of the land.” (See also this AAN report about giving daughters in marriage for bride price.)
A significant number of children in returnee households are also working, according to the UNHCR’s protection monitoring report. Some work during school hours; others assist with household responsibilities, leaving little time for learning (UNHCR). Parents rarely describe these decisions as deliberate choices. Rather, they emerge out of economic necessity. When families cannot afford food, rent or healthcare, education becomes almost impossible to prioritise. AAN interviewees repeatedly linked their children’s educational prospects to their own employment situation. Several interviewees suggested that if they had reliable employment and secure housing, they would much prefer to be sending their children to school than out to work.
A fragile safety net
In many parts of Afghanistan, remittances provide an important source of household income. For returnees from Pakistan, however, this safety net appears limited. Only a small proportion of returnees reported receiving money from relatives abroad; only three per cent of returnees from Pakistan in UNHCR’s vast sample for their post-return monitoring survey received remittances, getting an average of 13,400 Afghani (USD 204) per month (UNHCR). Most families interviewed for this report said they had no regular external source of support.
Humanitarian assistance has filled some of the gaps. Returnees received varying forms of support upon arrival from both the government and UN agencies, including cash assistance, food aid, shelter support and transportation assistance. Many interviewees said the assistance was either insufficient or already exhausted.
Akram Khan, an unskilled labourer who arrived in Kandahar in late 2025, recalled the moment he learned there would be no financial assistance. “We were told that UNHCR did not have the money,” he said. “They told us to keep hold of our documents and wait.”
Several interviewees noted that assistance packages had declined significantly due to funding cuts affecting humanitarian operations following President Trump’s January 2025 executive order halting all US aid (AAN). UNHCR, for example, lost almost 50 per cent of its non-year-marked funding after the US aid cut. Although ECHO and the European Union delegation in Afghanistan are trying to provide funding through UNHCR for those returnees in dire need, international agencies have repeatedly warned that funding shortfalls are affecting their ability to respond to growing needs. However, as Afghanistan continues to face widespread economic hardship and high unemployment, short-term, one-off cash assistance also cannot address the long-term problem of stalled development.
Education: distance and an uncertain future
Across the interviews conducted for this report, concerns about schooling emerged repeatedly. Many of the interviewees had spent years in Pakistan, where, despite numerous challenges, their children, both boys and girls, had access to all levels of education and other training opportunities. Returning to Afghanistan has often meant confronting a different reality.
In Juma Khan’s household of 18, five boys and several girls (not numbered) are of school age. However, in the informal returnees’ settlement in Kandahar where his family is currently based, there is no school, just one informal madrassa run by a local mullah. The settlement has developed on its own, without formal planning or government support. Families erected tents and temporary shelters where land was available. Over time, the population grew. Yet educational services failed to keep pace.
According to Juma Khan, there is no formal school in his area. “There is one NGO school,” he said, “but it does not teach regular subjects.” Instead, children receive basic awareness sessions and limited instruction focused on mine risk education and psychosocial support. For many parents, this is not what they hoped for when they returned. “We requested both the government and NGOs [to set up a school],” Juma Khan said, “but we got no response.” As a result, many children have turned to informal religious education as their only available option. Juma Khan’s sons attend an unofficial madrassa in the village where the local mullah provides basic literacy instruction alongside religious studies. However, his daughters stopped attending because they feared corporal punishment. “In the beginning, both boys and girls were going,” he said. “Now the girls don’t go because the mullah was beating the children a lot.”
For other returnees, schools exist but are effectively inaccessible. According to the UNHCR post-return survey, among returnee households with children, 71 per cent reported that no girls in the family were attending school, compared to 51 per cent for boys (UNHCR). It also found another division: “Returnees from Pakistan were more likely to report non‑attendance for both boys and girls: 68 per cent of returnee households from Pakistan reported no boys attending school, compared to 51 per cent for those from Iran.”
Ruzi Khan, a taxi driver who returned to Helmand province, said his children initially enrolled in school after returning from Pakistan: “They went for a week or two,” he said, “but the school was too far away.” Distance, transport costs, security concerns and household responsibilities, said UNHCR, all influence attendance.
The problem is especially visible in areas where returnees have concentrated in large numbers. Dad Muhammad, who had taught at an Afghan refugee school in Pakistan and returned to Kunduz province, estimates that there are approximately 120 school-aged boys and girls among the returnee families in his area and, according to him, none of them are going to school. “There is no school around for them to go to,” he said. For him, the situation is particularly painful. “We won’t die of hunger,” he said, “but we are very concerned about our children’s education.” Like many others, he has repeatedly appealed to both government authorities and aid organisations, but to no avail.
Many of the men interviewed compared educational opportunities for their children in Afghanistan with those available in Pakistan. Although Afghan refugees in Pakistan faced numerous obstacles, many families had managed to enrol their children in refugee schools or local educational institutions. Several interviewees said their children had completed secondary education or had aspirations to go to university. Returning to Afghanistan disrupted those plans. Two of Wali Khan’s sons have completed twelve years of schooling in Pakistan and taken the Afghan university entrance examination. But one has now been sent back to Pakistan to work and has had to put on hold his education, while the other is still waiting for the result of the exam in the hope that he has passed it.
When discussing their children’s education, several AAN interviewees spoke of disappointment, fear and regret. The concern is understandable. Afghanistan’s education sector already faces enormous challenges. UNICEF estimates that 3.7 million Afghan children, 60 per cent of whom are girls, remain out of school nationwide (UNICEF). Returnees are entering an already strained system at a time when humanitarian funding is declining and public services are under increasing pressure. The return of hundreds of thousands of children from Pakistan has intensified these pressures.
Thinking of leaving again
The interviews conducted for this report suggest that for a significant number of families, return has not led to reintegration. Instead, many continue to live in conditions of uncertainty characterised by insecure housing, unemployment, debt, interrupted education and dependence on relatives or humanitarian assistance. Together, these pressures create a cycle of vulnerability that becomes increasingly difficult to escape. A growing number of returnees are already considering migrating again, despite the risks. For some, the decision has already been made.
Akbar Khan, the farmer from Kunduz province, said that his brother had already left Afghanistan again. “He chose to settle in Helmand, but migrated back to Pakistan through illegal routes,” he said. “He’s now in Pakistan along with his family.” Akbar Khan is now considering the same option. “I’m also preparing to migrate and join him,” he said, “because if we stay here, I won’t be able to feed the family.” Like many returnees interviewed for this report, he had spent most of the money he had brought from Pakistan and had not been able to find a stable job. “I’m in a dire economic situation,” he said. “I’ll be completely out of money in one or two months’ time.”
Like Akbar Khan, many families find themselves in a conundrum. They left Pakistan because they could no longer remain there; yet after returning, some are discovering that they cannot sustain themselves in Afghanistan either. Migration seems like the only viable strategy.
The idea of re-migration is not confined to a few isolated cases. Throughout the interviews, returnees repeatedly expressed doubts about their long-term future in Afghanistan. Even those who had not yet decided to leave often spoke about migration as a possibility if conditions failed to improve. Several had already sent family members abroad – to Iran and onward to Turkey and Europe – while others had sent their family members to Pakistan in search of work. All who had relatives and friends in Pakistan maintained close links with them.
The story of Wali Khan, the farmer from Kharkez, who sent two of his sons back to Pakistan to work off his debt is illustrative. Their departure was intended as a temporary solution. Yet such arrangements often forge pathways for longer-term migration. Once a family member re-establishes connections abroad, other relatives may follow. What begins as a coping strategy can evolve into a new migration cycle – or, of course, end in yet another forced return. When economic opportunities remain limited and support for reintegration is insufficient, returnees frequently seek alternative destinations. The interviews suggest that many are mulling over the possibility of leaving. Although many returnees have not abandoned the idea of rebuilding their lives in Afghanistan, they are increasingly questioning whether doing so is realistic.
Beyond return
The experiences of returnees in Kabul, Kandahar, Helmand and Kunduz suggest that the real challenge begins after the border is crossed. Although most of the families did not return on their own accord, many hoped for better than an economy with few jobs, steep living costs, a shortage of housing and minimal public services.
To try to survive, they have adopted a range of strategies: borrowing money, relying on relatives, sharing accommodation, withdrawing children from school to work and sending family members abroad for work. These strategies allow families to cope in the short term. They do not help them to reintegrate into life in Afghanistan. For many, the consequence of forced return is a prolonged period of uncertainty and rising anxiety. They continue paying rent despite having little income. They wait for land allocations that may take months or years. They hear reports of plots being distributed, but are unsure when or whether they will benefit. Or, as Abdul Karim, the unskilled labourer who was given land in Zheray district in Kandahar, discovered, the land had no water. Many are reluctant to return to their place of origin, but find circumstances no better elsewhere.
The interviews presented in this report suggest that many returnees remain suspended between two realities. They can no longer remain in Pakistan, yet they have not fully established themselves in Afghanistan. For some, this uncertainty has already produced a difficult conclusion. Emigration, they believe, may once again be the only option available.
Edited by Kate Clark and Roxanna Shapour
Revisions:
This article was last updated on 24 Jun 2026
