LAHORE:
In the Office of Child Protection and Welfare in Lahore, the sound of laughter sounds through the halls where young children spend their days studying, playing and dreaming of the future.
Among them is Mahwish Aslam, 17, a soft voice teenager who tries to stay optimistic but at quiet times, admits feeling deeply anxious. In just a few months, Mahwish will turn 18 and say goodbye to the shelter’s house, since he will legally be an adult. Without a family, without a home, and without a clear idea of what is coming later, the sudden transition to adulthood chases many young girls living in the office.
Ramsha Aamir and Nasreen Maqbool, who share a vital space with Mahwish in the home of the shelter, echo similar fears as both wake up at night, wondering how life would look outside the shelter.
When the refuge provides them with food, education and a safe place to sleep, their future hangs in uncertainty at the time they cross the legal threshold of adulthood, since the Office of Child Protection and Welfare operates under the laws of child protection that only extend support until the age of 18. In other words, once a child becomes a legal adult, they are expected to leave the shelter and live alone. A transition that is far from soft.
In the absence of dedicated youth transition centers, there is no formal mechanism to ensure that young people who reach adulthood can find safe homes, continue their education or ensure employment.
As a result, for most abandoned children, the abrupt final of the institutional support feels like being expelled from a cliff without a safety network below. Without life skills, social networks and economic means to survive independently, many young adults can fall into the lack of housing, informal work or abusive situations.
Iftikhar Mubarak, director of Search for Justice, believed that this gap in the child protection system was not only a political defect, but a humanitarian supervision. “While the law classifies these children as adults after the age of 18, these young people still need economic and economic support. Although there have been some success stories, they are still the exception, not the rule,” Mubarak said.
Muhammad Zubair and Nazia Ashraf, who grew in the shelter, formed a link during their years of attention. With the support of the office, they married, they found jobs within the same institution and began to build a family life together. Others, such as Hassan, Sanwal and Mubarak Asm, were able to ensure vocational training and are now employed in private companies. A small number of private organizations, such as the village of SOS children, provide prolonged attention for young people beyond 18 years.
According to director Almas Butt, SOS allows residents to stay up to 23 years. “During this time, young adults receive support for job placement, professional advice and emotional orientation. Children generally move to youth shelters, while girls remain within the village until they are married or financially self -sufficient,” Butt said.
These efforts, although shocking, are limited in scale and capacity, since most state shelters and welfare programs simply do not have resources or mandates to offer similar services. In the absence of public policies, these few private institutions have become lines of life for those who are lucky enough to access them.
In countries such as the United Kingdom, Canada and South Africa, structured programs guide young people through their first years of adults with housing -style housing, financial support, skill training and psychological advice.
