Hard hats and new horizons
At the cargo terminal of Karachi’s Jinnah International Airport, where aircrafts line up like giant beasts waiting to be fed, Noor Ather Khan steers her forklift between crates and cargo containers with practiced ease. She’s focused, calm, and in control, no different from any of her male colleagues working the morning shift at Gerry’s dnata. Except that she stands out, not for her work, but for simply being a woman in a role where you rarely see one.
In a country like Pakistan, jobs like forklift operator, hydraulic pump technician, electricians or Argon welder have always belonged to men. The assumption has been simple, the work is too physical, the conditions too harsh, and the environment too male to make space for women. And for a long time, that belief went unchallenged. But things are slowly changing.
Some still argue that women can’t match the physical strength needed in certain trades, and in some areas, like heavy lifting or long shifts in extreme heat, that may hold some truth. But there are many roles where strength isn’t the only requirement. Attention to detail, following technical protocols, multitasking, these are all skills that several women now in the field say they bring naturally. In fact, some trainers even say women tend to follow safety guidelines more closely than men.
That said, the challenge has never just been about skill. It’s about trust, and whether the system, the employers, and even the society around them are willing to believe that women belong in these spaces. In 2025, we’re beginning to see signs of that belief taking root. Women like Noor aren’t just entering male-dominated professions. They’re being trained for them, hired for them, and in some cases, excelling in them. Training institutes, some in partnership with corporate institutions, are making that possible. Families are beginning to support them. And some male colleagues are learning to treat them as equals.
Seeing a woman in a hard hat or holding a welding torch might still make people look twice. But the fact that we’re seeing it at all says something. Pakistan is beginning to move forward, and the shift, while slow, is real.
The big picture
For a long time, Pakistan’s technical and industrial workforce has operated on a simple assumption, some jobs are just not for women. Roles like welding, electrical work, and machinery operation have been seen as the natural domain of men, often because of the physical strength required or the harshness of the work environment. In reality though, it wasn’t always about strength. It was about trust.
That mindset is beginning to shift. Not dramatically, but steadily.
Today, more women are enrolling in vocational programs, encouraged not just by their own ambition, but also by changing household dynamics and growing economic pressures. According to Pakistan Bureau of Statistics, just around 13% of students enrolled in formal technical and vocational education are women, but this number has been rising, especially in cities where newer training models are emerging. Institutes are beginning to offer short, hands-on training programs, some as short as 40 days, that make entry into these professions more accessible.
For many, it starts with one decision. “There are women in office jobs, engineering, and the medical field, but forklift operating stood out to me because no women were doing it,” said Noor Ather Khan, who now operates heavy equipment at Jinnah International Airport. “That uniqueness drew me in.”
Across disciplines, the motivation to enter these spaces often comes from seeing someone else do it first. Ariba Yaseen, now a technician in the Hydraulic Pump Cell, was inspired by her sister. “She would come home and tell me about everything she was learning, and that sparked my interest. I wanted to do something similar and become skilled like her.”
Even when the decision is met with skepticism, persistence seems to win. Some families resist. Some communities doubt. But among the women interviewed, a common thread stood out, support often came from someone close. For Ashifa, who now works in fabrication at Millat Tractors, it was her uncle who stepped in when others didn’t. “My uncle stood firm, he said, ‘She will go.’ And I did. Now, those same aunts say their daughters should also take industrial courses. I’ve paved the way.”
It’s not that the physical demands have changed or the equipment has become lighter. What’s changing is the belief that women can belong in these spaces, too. Whether assembling hydraulic pumps or handling live electrical panels, they are proving that technical skill, not gender, is what defines competence.
In countries like Bangladesh and India, where women also face barriers to entry in vocational sectors, the shift has been slow. But in Pakistan, the efforts, small as they may be, are beginning to show on factory floors, in technical workshops, and at airport loading bays.
The sight of a woman holding a welding torch or steering a forklift may still invite a second glance. But for the women doing the work, that glance is no longer a barrier. It’s just part of the routine. What brings this shift to life isn’t only the numbers or national statistics. It’s the lived reality of the women stepping into these roles, often for the first time in their communities. Their stories, layered, personal, and deeply human, offer the clearest picture of how change actually happens.
Women in the field
The shift in numbers may be slow, but it’s real, and the clearest proof lies not in headlines, but in the women themselves. Across factory floors, airport ramps, and industrial training centers, they’re showing up, doing the work, and changing expectations. These are not abstract trends. These are lives, shaped by training, strengthened by experience, and driven by a shared decision to step into spaces long considered off-limits.
Thirty-four-year-old Noor Ather Khan works as a forklift and tow tractor operator at Karachi’s Jinnah International Airport, one of the busiest airports in the country. She is also a mother, a wife, and one of only six women working alongside over twenty male equipment handlers at Gerry’s dnata.
Before stepping into the world of machinery, Noor had never driven a vehicle. The very first time she sat inside a forklift, she was overwhelmed by the number of levers and pedals. “There was a point where I completely gave up, especially when we moved from forward to reverse driving. I told my trainer I couldn’t do it,” she recalled, speaking about her training experience. “But he motivated me so sincerely that I felt confident again. I thought, if he believes I can do it, then I will.”
Noor’s decision to pursue this career wasn’t met with universal support. While her husband encouraged her, other family members were skeptical. It wasn’t until she was selected to lead operations during a the first-ever Women-League Flight (WLF) event that their views began to shift. Today, she dreams of operating the airport’s Toe Tractor, a 56-ton machine used to move aircraft. “If I can operate a lifter today, then tomorrow I should be able to operate more advanced machinery too,” she said.
Ariba is twenty years old and works in the Hydraulic Pump Cell of a factory as a technician. She is currently completing her F.Sc. in Pre-Engineering and was part of the first female batch in her department. Her entry into this line of work was largely inspired by her sister, who joined an electrician course before her.
When Ariba first joined, she became part of the first group of women to enter what had always been an all-male department. “We were selected after interviews and placed in the Hydraulic Pump Cell. It was a new experience for everyone, but we were welcomed and trained just like the rest,” she said.
Her work involves assembling hydraulic systems, tightening bolts, and handling equipment that once felt out of reach. She admits that the job is physically demanding, but she has found ways to adapt. “If it’s too heavy, we use a trolley or ask someone for help,” she explained, adding that she has never allowed her gender to be a limitation.
Skepticism from outside the workplace still lingers. Visitors sometimes question her role, unsure why a woman would choose such a field. But her family’s pride outweighs that. She now supports them financially and feels confident enough to say no to societal pressures around, “There’s no fear in me anymore. I feel completely self-sufficient,” she said.
Ashifa, who now works at Millat Tractors, had never imagined she would one day hold industrial tools or work alongside technicians in a fabrication unit. Before joining a technical course at DTI, she worked at a local mart to support her family. The shift from retail to industrial work was as emotional as it was physical.
“At the mart, it felt like a dead end. But now, I have a diploma, a certification. I can apply anywhere. That gives me confidence. I feel stronger, more capable,” she said.
Her father was initially against the idea, and extended family members were openly dismissive. It was her uncle who stepped in and encouraged her to go forward. That support has not only changed her life, but also the thinking within her household. Her aunts, who once opposed her, now want their daughters to enroll in similar courses. She has sparked a chain reaction.
Even at work, the transition wasn’t seamless. Some male colleagues questioned whether she should be lifting goods or using equipment. But with time and persistence, respect followed. Her journey wasn’t driven by a dream or a bold decision. It was shaped by necessity. “From the beginning, I’ve believed that if I have to do it, then I will do it, no matter what,” she said, not as a slogan, but as a quiet truth shaped by her circumstances. With family responsibilities and limited options, giving up was never something she considered.
Ayesha is part of a two-year training program at (LMW), where she is learning to become a power technician. Her work involves installing and maintaining electrical systems, from single-phase setups to more complex three-phase operations.
Her interest in this field began during her fabrication course at DTI. Within the first few days, she realized she wanted to understand how electricity powered homes and machines alike. “In the first two to three days of classes, I began to understand how things work both at home and in the field,” she said.
Her workdays involve tasks that are often assigned to male colleagues in other factories. But here, she says, the atmosphere is equal. She also attends monthly gender diversity and ethics sessions, where trainees are taught how to maintain respectful and safe work environments.
For Ayesha, the challenge isn’t just to learn what others know, but to push herself further. Her current goal is to master three-phase systems and lead her own team one day.
Muqaddas, a pre-medical student by education, is now a technician at Millat Tractors after completing not one, but two training courses at DTI, safety inspection and fabrication. Her entry into the field wasn’t just a career decision. It was a necessity. As the eldest sibling in a financially struggling household, she needed to support her father and younger siblings.
She remembers the early days at work being especially difficult. “There was even a moment when I cried after being told I wouldn't be able to handle the tasks,” she said. But she kept going. One of her proudest moments came when she successfully handled a task others doubted she could manage. “Eventually, I was able to do it on my own. That’s when even my supervisor acknowledged my effort,” she said.
Muqaddas now hopes to return to the field of safety, the course that first opened her path. Her dream is not just to be employed, but to move into leadership. In her words, “When I’m able to do something I once thought I couldn’t, it makes me proud.”
These women have learned on the job, adapted under pressure, and proved that skill knows no gender. But none of their journeys started at the workplace. Before the tools and machines came the training, the first exposure, and the belief that they belonged in these roles. That belief was often planted in a classroom or workshop, by an institute willing to invest in them. And that is where the broader shift begins to take shape.
The role of institutes
Changing mindsets begins long before the factory floor or the airport tarmac. It often begins in a modest classroom, inside a training yard, or under the guidance of a patient instructor. For many women now working in fabrication, electrical systems, or forklift operation, their first breakthrough came not from the industry, but from an institute that believed they could.
One such place is Descon Technical Institute (DTI), which has been quietly reshaping what technical education looks like for women. According to Murtuza Ali, GM at DTI, their philosophy is simple, “Skills have no gender.” The institute’s “Hands On–Hats Off” campaign reflects that belief, celebrating the dignity of labor across roles that were once thought to be too demanding for women.
In addition to DTI, government organizations like TEVTA in Punjab, NAVTTC at the national level, and PSDF and GIZ have begun building programs that are not just inclusive, but also intentional. These aren’t just training modules, they’re bridges into industries that long resisted female participation.
DTI’s partnership with Engro Foundation, and similar efforts with organizations like Shoe Planet, and Millat Tractors and many others, have produced forklift operators, certified electricians, and safety officers from backgrounds where vocational ambition was once considered impossible. “Through the Shefixes initiative with NAVTTC, we certified women electricians by recognizing their prior informal work,” Murtuza explained. “They’re now entering the formal workforce, inspiring others, and changing how employers see technical talent.”
Institutes have also stepped in to reduce the invisible barriers that often stop women before they even start. DTI, for instance, provides door-to-door pick-and-drop services, safety gear, and customized uniforms. The goal is not just skill-building, but access. And retention.
“DTI changed my life. I’m sincerely thankful to them,” said Noor Ather Khan, who now works as an equipment operator at Karachi airport. She spoke about how the training helped her manage not just machines, but time, people, and stress, at work and at home.
Soft skills and career readiness are equally emphasized. “We complement technical training with life skills, financial literacy, and workplace readiness,” Murtuza said. “We’ve even started building mentorship networks, so these women don’t just get hired, but also have a path to grow.”
That sense of support and structure is echoed in places like Descon’s Lahore Manufacturing Workshop (LMW), where DTI alumna Ayesha Shaukat says she feels fully integrated into the daily workflow. “Whatever work the male counterparts do, we also do,” she said. “There’s no discrimination.”
At LMW, Ayesha Shaukat is employed as a CNC machine operator. Each month, she and her batchmates attend mandatory sessions on workplace safety, ethics, and gender sensitivity. “We’re regularly updated and trained on how to work safely and respectfully. They also ask for our feedback, which makes it interactive and useful,” she said.
Perhaps the biggest shift is not in the training modules, but in the reception from employers. As Murtuza put it, “Initially, employers were unsure. Today, several of them are asking us specifically for female technicians. Inclusion is no longer just a moral argument. It’s a competitive advantage.”
The impact of these institutes is visible not just in the skills women gain, but in the confidence they carry forward. One by one, they are stepping into places that once had no space for them. And with each step, something larger begins to shift, not just in factories and training centers, but in homes, mindsets, and the future of work itself.
A shift in motion
The debate over whether women belong in industrial jobs has existed for decades. But today, that debate is quietly being reshaped by presence. Women are no longer asking for permission. They are showing up, getting trained, taking jobs, and proving they can hold their own.
Challenges remain. Not every employer is ready. Not every family is supportive. But something has changed. These women are visible now, on factory floors, in workshops, at airports. They are no longer an exception. They are part of the workforce.
Progress, in the end, won’t be measured by numbers alone. It will be measured by how many more girls see them and think, this could be possible for me too.