Imdad Ali, a 25-year-old law graduate from University Law College, Quetta, never walked into a courtroom after his graduation in December 2024. Instead, he opts for a different destination: preparing for competitive exams.
“From the onset, I have decided not to join a law firm because my college seniors warned me about the financial hardships in legal practice; according to them, juniors are either underpaid or not paid at all,” Imdad utters in a sorrowful tone.
“In our society, the profession of law is deemed a prestigious field. As people see lawyers and judges on TV, where they are portrayed in such a way that it seems like being a lawyer is a brilliant profession, replete with money, respect, and opportunities. But in reality, the truth is very different. The path to becoming a lawyer is extremely Herculean. It takes five years to complete an LLB degree and a further five years to earn a name in the profession,” says Imdad.
Imdad’s story is not uncommon. Throughout Balochistan and Pakistan, young law graduates confront a harsh reality: a profession with prestige, discipline, and dedication but guarantees no financial stability, job security or career advancement.
The Struggle of Young Lawyers
Muhammad Umer, a 2024 law graduate from the University of Turbat, shares his experience of a chamber in Turbat. “I regularly attended court proceedings from 9AM to 2PM, while later I went to my senior chamber from 5PM to 10PM for three consecutive months, reading case files, conducting research, and drafting applications,” he remarks. “But I earned zilch. My senior would provide me tiny amounts occasionally, but nothing regular. I am looking for a job to switch.”
Siraj Karim Dashti, who completed his LLB from Gujrat Law College, is currently practising in the courts of Karachi. “There is a very bizarre hierarchy in law, especially with seniors. Even after studying for five years and entering the profession, the student is treated perpetually like a junior or subordinate. Financially, he struggles as he gets dependent on the family during practising years, and the respect he expects is not given to him,” he explains. “At this stage, in an effort to earn a name for himself, the student often feels compelled to take shortcuts and abandon the profession.”
According to a survey, less than 20% of law graduates in smaller cities secure paid internships or employment after completing their LLB. Most either abandon the profession permanently or switch fields due to financial constraints.
Adnan Sarwar obtained his LLB degree from the Islamia University of Bahawalpur in 2025. According to him, the path to becoming a lawyer is largely difficult, and it is a journey replete with financial woes and mental agonies. “When a student completes their LLB and wears the tie and the formal lawyer’s uniform, society pins expectations on him, and the family feels proud and thinks he has achieved something huge. But only that student knows how tough and challenging the journey actually is,” he elaborates.
Similarly, Waqar Hafeez, a practising lawyer based in Islamabad, says entry-level lawyers are supposed to work lengthy hours without compensation, while senior advocates capture the larger share of cases and clients. “There is neither balance nor fairness in the legal profession. I am planning to pursue an LLM in a foreign country, which is more secure in terms of academic prospects than squandering my precious years in a cycle that provides no reward in return,” he states.
According to a survey, less than 20% of law graduates in smaller cities secure paid internships or employment after completing their LLB. Most either abandon the profession permanently or switch fields due to financial constraints.
The Monopoly of Senior Advocates
Senior advocates acknowledge the disparity exists but assert it is structural. Advocate Mohib Ullah Mengal, a senior advocate in Quetta, noted, “Young lawyers must be equipped with legal knowledge to grow in the legal market. However, they also need to work hard to gain practical experience and make themselves deserving members of a firm. Law firms cannot pay every junior lawyer unless and until they have proven themselves competent, as the legal market is highly competitive,” Mohib Ullah asserts. “What appears to be an imbalance or exploitation is, in fact, the result of inexperience as well as the demand and supply of junior lawyers in the legal field.”
However, some junior lawyers refute this argument. “It is not about experience alone; it is about monopoly,” Imdad clarifies. “Seniors dominate client management, dictate who handles cases, and make the junior lawyers work for free. Even when juniors contribute meaningfully, they are barely acknowledged.”
Another High Court Advocate, Mehran Maqsoodi, practising in Turbat, notes, “There is a pressing need for a regulated framework, a fixed stipend for juniors, fair distribution of cases and money, and mentorship protocols. Currently, the profession is governed by established customs rather than equity and fairness. Reform is mandatory.”
A System in Dire Need of Reform
Bar councils across Pakistan have neither set fixed stipends for juniors nor curbed the monopoly of seniors over cases. This unregulated framework often pushes young lawyers into doing side jobs, preparing for competitive exam preparation, or switching to other professions for survival.
According to Tayyaba Munir, a judicial clerk at the Supreme Court, one of the most entrenched problems in our legal system is the unpaid nature of junior work, whether described as an internship or associate training. “The stipend problem will never be resolved without firm intervention from the bar: while some seniors do pay their juniors fairly, many do not, and voluntary compliance has repeatedly failed,” Tayyaba Munir expresses her opinion.
As per Tayyaba, a mandatory, bar-regulated minimum stipend, uniformly applied across all chambers and firms, is therefore essential and must be strictly enforced to dismantle the culture of unpaid labour.
Arfa Azhar Khan, a gold medallist in an LLB degree, is currently running a food delivery service named ‘Doctor of Hunger’. “I am more inclined towards entrepreneurship because legal practice is more challenging and less rewarding, and I don’t want to waste my prime years in a tiresome struggle that might only reward me after ten years,” Arfa points out. “Being a woman, I want to be fully independent-financially, socially, and culturally-and legal practice won’t guarantee me that.”
Amanullah Kakar, a practising advocate in Quetta, demonstrates dismay over the disunity of junior advocates. “If the juniors unite and decide together that we will not handle even a single case for the seniors, the seniors will be compelled to pay.” Amanullah emphasizes. “Junior lawyers should also have a fixed salary, just like doctors who get a salary for their house job.”
Hope for a change
Law graduates like Imdad hope for change but are cautious. “I still love law, but I cannot gamble with my future. Chambers should become more accountable, seniors more responsible, and bar councils must actively intervene to safeguard the interests of juniors. Until then, young lawyers will keep facing this silent exploitation.”
Unless substantive reforms are introduced, the chamber culture in Pakistan will continue to function less as a professional training and more as an institutionalised exploitation. For numerous young graduates, the option is no longer between success and struggle, but between survival and surrender.
Mandatory stipends, professional standards, and ethical mentorship are the need of the hour. Without such reforms, Pakistan stands to lose an entire generation of capable lawyers, not because they lack commitment and competence, but because the system has failed to deliver fairness to those who seek to uphold it.
The writer is a lawyer based in Quetta.