By Sardar Kan Niazi

Despite impressive strides in women’s education and increasing female participation in the workforce, a quieter, more insidious form of gender discrimination continues to thrive in white-collar workplaces across Pakistan: the silent exclusion of women. This exclusion does not always wear the face of outright harassment or blatant bias. Instead, it whispers through closed doors, subtle assumptions, missed promotions, and decisions made in male-only circles. In most professional environments–banks, law firms, corporate offices, tech hubs—women may be present, but rarely do they feel included. Meetings are every so often held informally over cigars or late-night gatherings, where women are either not invited or choose not to go due to social expectations and safety concerns. Networking–the very backbone of career growth–frequently takes place in spaces inaccessible or uncomfortable for women. This invisibility does not just hinder progress; it erodes confidence and reinforces a cycle where women are always playing catch-up in male-dominated environments. One of the most striking elements of this exclusion is how normalized it has become. No one raises eyebrows when a female colleague is overlooked for a challenging project, or when key decisions are made over chai breaks she was not part of. It has been written off as circumstantial, not systemic. Women are told to lean in and speak up, but when they do, they are often seen as aggressive, difficult, or out of sync with the culture. Moreover, the silent exclusion manifests itself not just socially but structurally. The so-called meritocratic systems often disguise the unspoken biases that favor men. Men are assumed to be more committed, more stable, more reliable–even if they take just as many days off or have the same familial obligations. Women, particularly those of childbearing age, are frequently seen as short-term investments by employers. These assumptions do not just affect hiring decisions; they impact salaries, promotions, mentorship opportunities, and project assignments. The glass ceiling in Pakistan’s professional sectors is not just about reaching the top–it is about surviving the everyday grind of being sidelined. It is about being the only woman in the room and knowing that your words will be second-guessed, your achievements under-acknowledged, and your presence scrutinized more than celebrated. What makes this all the more disheartening is the silence around it. While social media may amplify certain voices, within the walls of most offices, women often remain quiet. Speaking up can be perceived as disruptive. Many fear being labelled as complainers, or worse, risk being professionally isolated. So, what can be done? First, organizations need to look inward with honesty. Gender inclusion is not about symbolic gestures like Women’s Day panels or female representation in HR departments. It means addressing the culture–examining who gets mentored, who is in the room when decisions are made, and what biases influence those decisions. Second, male allies must step up. Inclusion should not be a burden placed solely on women’s shoulders. Men in leadership positions must actively question and change the status quo–whether it means declining all-male panels, advocating for fairer leave policies, or simply listening when a female colleague points out inequality. Finally, women must continue to support one another. Too often, the few women who make it to the top feel they must blend into the dominant culture to survive. Instead, they must pave the way for others–not just in boardrooms, but also in culture, mentorship, and policy. The silent exclusion of women may not grab headlines, but it defines the daily experiences of countless professionals. It is time we shine a light on it–not just for women’s sake, but also for the health, fairness, and future of our workplaces.