The singer without a stage: An Afghan artist leaves the country that raised him

“We are refugees, and this is their land. We understand.”

Originally published on Global Voices

Whenever Najeebullah Khitab is remembered in Pakistan, it will be as the Afghan singer who lived in Bashir Chowk, Turkman Colony, Quetta — the capital of Balochistan province. His voice, name, and life gradually became part of the city’s fabric. Born into a family that migrated to Pakistan 46 years ago, Khitab spent his entire youth performing and living in the country that had given him a home.

This is the story of Najeebullah Khitab, a singer whose voice carries the hopes, struggles, and memories of a generation of Afghan refugees. Millions fled to Pakistan during the Soviet–Afghan war in the 1980s, seeking safety. Today, around 2.8 million Afghans still call Pakistan home, including roughly 1.3 million registered refugees. In 2023, Pakistan began sending undocumented migrants back, a stark reminder of how borders and policies can overshadow individual dreams.

“I was born in Pakistan,” Khitab says quietly during a WhatsApp call, “but now I’m going back to Afghanistan — where music has no space.”

Khitab’s family, originally from Jowzjan province in northwestern Afghanistan, came to Pakistan seeking safety and stability. For decades, they found it. But in recent months, Pakistan’s government has begun a large-scale deportation drive, forcing hundreds of thousands of Afghan refugees to return to their homeland. “We packed our belongings fifteen days ago,” he says. “We’re standing outside the UNHCR’s Voluntary Repatriation Centre near Bakelite Customs, at the western entrance to Quetta, waiting for our repatriation certificate.”

That certificate, he explains, helps cover some travel expenses — but it cannot ease the emotional weight of leaving behind a life built over generations. “It’s been fifteen days, and we’re still waiting,” he says, his exhaustion tempered by quiet dignity.

For Khitab, returning to Afghanistan means losing more than a home, it means losing his passion. “When I go there, I will have to start life from zero,” he says. “But what hurts more than starting from zero is knowing there is no place for singing or music in Afghanistan anymore.”

Since the Taliban’s return to power, public music and performances have been banned under strict interpretations of Islamic law. For artists like Khitab, that ban is a blow, and it feels like suffocation. “Every nation has its own laws, and we respect that,” he says. “But banning music feels like a kind of force — a pressure on the soul.”

In Pakistan, music was his livelihood. “Singing was my only source of income,” he says. “Now, when I go back, I don’t know what I will do.” Yet, despite the hardship, he carries no anger. “Pakistan also has its reasons,” he says softly. “We are refugees, and this is their land. We understand.”

Like many Afghan-born refugees, Khitabspent years trying to obtain Pakistani nationality, citing his birth and lifelong residence in the country. “I went to different courts,” he says. “I even approached the UNHCR, but I never received a positive response.”

“I wish to come back one day to perform again,” he adds. “People love my songs on both sides of the border. For a singer, love has no borders.”

He pauses, then recites softly in Pashto: “After every darkness, there will come a dawn.”

When contacted over WhatsApp, Zahir Pashtoon, a social activist working for Afghan refugees, began by explaining the background of the ongoing refugee crisis. He explained that in November 2023, Pakistan’s caretaker government announced its decision to expel Afghan refugees from the country. The process began in Karachi, the capital of Sindh province, where local authorities initiated the deportation drive.

According to Pashtoon, the repatriation plan has been implemented in three phases: first, those living in Pakistan without legal documentation were deported; second, individuals holding Afghan Citizen Cards (ACC) were sent back; and finally, the deportation of Proof of Registration (PoR) cardholders is now underway in the third phase.

According to him, conditions in Pakistan have become increasingly difficult, to the point where many refugees have chosen to leave voluntarily. He added that the UNHCR — the international agency responsible for refugees — has become largely inactive. “They continue to give hope,” he said, “but in practice, they are not providing much assistance. The financial support and funds that were once available have now stopped, and because of that, Afghan refugees are facing severe hardships.”

Discussing the issue of nationality, Pashtoon pointed out that although Khitab, the singer, was born in Pakistan, Afghan refugees born on Pakistani soil cannot claim Pakistani citizenship. He explained that when Pakistan first engaged with the United Nations on the refugee issue decades ago, it did not sign the clause obligating states to grant citizenship to refugees born within their territory. “Former Prime Minister Imran Khan once said that children of Afghan refugees born in Pakistan would be given citizenship,” Pashtoon noted, “but that promise was never fulfilled.”

Pashtoon added that refugee leaders had approached several Pakistani courts — including the Balochistan High Court, Peshawar High Court, and Islamabad High Court — seeking relief to prevent forced deportations, but all appeals were rejected. He also noted that political parties such as the Pashtunkhwa Milli Awami Party (PkMAP), the Awami National Party (ANP), and the Jamiat Ulema-e-Islam (JUI) protested and raised their voices in support of Afghan refugees, yet their efforts produced no tangible results.

Pakistan’s defense minister, Khawaja Muhammad Asif, has recently reiterated that all Afghan refugees must return to their home country, citing security and economic concerns. He stressed that their prolonged stay has created serious challenges for Pakistan’s stability. Asif stated that Pakistan is “facing a lot of problems” due to the large refugee population, claiming that several terrorist attacks have been launched from Afghan soil.

During the October 2025 border tensions between Pakistan and Afghanistan, clashes erupted and crossings were temporarily sealed, bringing the repatriation of Afghan refugees from Quetta to a standstill.

The atmosphere was heavy with uncertainty, the border was sealed, and Quetta’s district administration had begun tightening measures against Afghan refugees, urging them to leave.

Outside the UNHCR office near Baleli Customs, hundreds of Afghan families waited, their belongings bundled in cloth, their faces etched with exhaustion and hope. They waited for one thing: the border to reopen, so they could finally begin their journey home.

As the sun set over Quetta that evening, the UNHCR office stood as a silent witness to one of the region’s most human journeys — a migration shaped by memories, uncertainty, and the relentless search for belonging.