Fatima Saeed Khan
My passion for culturally sensitive mental health interventions comes from my own background as an ethnic Pashtun, where understanding the unique cultural dynamics within marginalised communities has always been essential. Growing up in a region that values tradition and community, I’ve seen firsthand how mental health is often overlooked or stigmatised. This exploration of narrative therapy in refugee camps reflects my commitment to bridging those gaps and providing meaningful support to adolescents in displaced and marginalised communities.
In refugee camps throughout Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, the mental health needs of adolescents are significant but often neglected. Many young individuals here have lived through unimaginable trauma—displacement, loss of family members, and the uncertainty of their futures. Traditional mental health services can be challenging to implement in such settings, where diverse cultures, languages, and transient conditions present unique obstacles. Narrative therapy, however, offers an alternative approach. Through storytelling, young people are given a voice, a safe space to process their experiences, and a way to rebuild their sense of identity.
Narrative therapy is a therapeutic approach that encourages individuals to externalise their problems and view them within the context of their life stories. By reframing their narrative, they can find meaning, agency, and empowerment. This method is particularly effective in culturally sensitive settings as it aligns with traditional storytelling practices, making it both familiar and approachable. For adolescents facing additional challenges like racism or ethnic discrimination, narrative therapy provides a framework to address these layers of trauma, often left unspoken. This culturally congruent intervention creates opportunities for young refugees to reclaim control over their stories and find validation within their experiences.
A 15-year-old Hazara Girl
“Sometimes, I feel like my whole life has been a question mark. I don’t know why I was born into conflict, why my family had to leave everything behind, or why people look at me like I’m not welcome. In our talk sessions, we start by sharing small stories, but mine always seem too painful to tell. One day, I finally shared about my father and how he kept our family together, even when he was terrified. As I talked, I felt a weight lifting. I realised I could talk about him without feeling ashamed of our story. I don’t have answers to my questions, but I don’t need them. What I need is to keep telling my story until it feels like mine again.”
This story highlights the importance of reclaiming one’s narrative and embracing personal experiences as part of one’s identity. For this young girl, narrative therapy provided a path to healing that traditional therapy methods might not offer, especially in a setting where discussing trauma openly is stigmatised. Through “storytelling”, she moves toward acknowledging her hardships while finding strength in her own voice.
A 14-year-old Boy from Khyber Agency
“When the fighting started, my family left everything. I remember looking back at our home as we ran, wondering if I’d ever see it again. In the camp, it’s easy to feel like you’re just a number, another person in a sea of people. I’ve faced a lot of bullying here, too, because people see me as different. In the storytelling sessions, I shared how lonely it feels to be a stranger everywhere you go. But I also talk about the good things, like my friends back home and the little goat we had. Now, I want to work on making new memories. We’re writing our stories together in group sessions, and it’s strange how good it feels to have my story heard. I don’t feel so invisible anymore.”
This boy’s experience shows how narrative therapy can help young refugees process feelings of isolation and otherness. Sharing his memories allows him to begin rebuilding a sense of home and connection—a crucial step in finding stability amid the instability of displacement. His story reflects the potential for storytelling to encourage community bonding among adolescents.
A 17-year-old Kuchi Boy
“I’ve spent years not being seen. When I first came here, no one even asked my name. They just gave me a number, a tent, and some food. In the story sessions, I told mine for the first time. I spoke about the river near my home, my brother who I haven’t seen since we left, and the way the air smelled on rainy days. Kho’har (sister) listened like every word mattered. That’s when I realised that I matter, too. For the first time, I’m more than just another boy in a camp. I have a story, a history. One day, I hope my brother hears it, too.”
This particular narrative emphasises the transformative power of being seen and heard. Through narrative therapy, he found a space where his past mattered, contrasting sharply with his prior experiences of anonymity. Reclaiming his history reinforced his sense of self and gave him hope for a future where he mattered.
A 13-year-old Girl from Quetta
“In our community, girls are often told to stay quiet. We don’t talk about the things that hurt us, and we definitely don’t talk about our dreams. When I started talking , I wasn’t sure what to say. But slowly, I learned that it’s okay to talk. I shared stories about how I want to study, about the times my father would encourage me even when others didn’t. My favourite session was when we talked about our futures. I said I wanted to be a teacher, and everyone listened like it was the most natural thing in the world. Now I’m not just a girl from a poor background—I’m someone with dreams.”
This story demonstrates how narrative therapy can empower young girls, giving them the confidence to voice their dreams and ambitions. In a community where silence is expected, her experience highlights the pivotal role that storytelling can play in redefining self-perception and fostering resilience.
This exploration has significant implications for mental health interventions in refugee camps. By assessing the use of narrative therapy in culturally diverse, transient settings, I aim to show how adaptive mental health strategies can bridge gaps in trauma recovery. In contexts where traditional mental health services are scarce or stigmatised, narrative therapy offers a practical, culturally aligned solution. It not only addresses personal trauma but also tackles collective struggles related to discrimination and marginalisation, creating space for individual and community healing.
