September 11, 2025
As September unfolds and the days grow shorter, Lahoris know what lies ahead. In just a few weeks, the familiar grey haze will descend, cloaking the city in a toxic blanket that makes eyes sting, lungs ache and children cough through the night.
Smog season, which typically begins in November, has become an annual nightmare — and every year, it seems worse than before.
Last winter, the air quality index in parts of the city crossed 1,900, a level described by international health agencies as hazardous to life. Lahore’s average PM2.5 concentration for 2024 was 102.1 micrograms per cubic meter — more than twenty times the safe limit set by the WHO.
For millions of residents, that meant months of breathing poison. Flights were grounded, schools closed and hospitals filled with patients struggling with asthma, bronchitis and heart problems. Yet despite the recurring crisis, little changes once the haze lifts.
But in the heart of Lahore lies a chance for something different. Along both sides of the Canal, the Punjab University New Campus stretches across 1,781 acres, making it one of the largest green spaces inside the city.
Yet land-use surveys show that more than 1,000 acres of this precious land are either open, vacant, or leased out for agriculture. Only about 727 acres are occupied by academic blocks, hostels, residential colonies, and other facilities. This underused space could be transformed into what Lahore needs most: a dense, thriving urban forest.
The science is not in doubt. Trees are nature’s filters, capturing fine particles from polluted air, cooling overheated cities and storing carbon that would otherwise worsen climate change. A single mature tree can sequester up to 48 pounds of carbon dioxide every year.
Urban greenery has been shown to lower stress levels, improve learning and even reduce healthcare costs. In Lahore’s case, where pollution is choking daily life, afforestation is not just an environmental project but a lifeline.
There are lessons to draw from around the world. Universities in Japan, the US and Nepal have maintained or created vast forested reserves as part of their campuses, integrating environmental stewardship into their identity.
Even within Lahore, the small Miyawaki forests planted in recent years have proven that indigenous species, planted densely, can flourish quickly and create measurable improvements in air quality and biodiversity. Imagine replicating that model across hundreds of acres at Punjab University.
The benefits would be profound. Students would study in cleaner air, with new opportunities for research and innovation in ecology and sustainability. Birds and pollinators would return to a city where biodiversity has been rapidly disappearing.
Ordinary Lahoris would find respite in shaded, oxygen-rich spaces instead of smog-choked streets. Most importantly, the city as a whole would gain a green shield against its most pressing environmental threat.
The argument against such transformation often rests on the fear that future expansion of Punjab University might require the open land. But this is a false choice. Expansion and greening can go hand in hand.
Across the world, leading institutions have adopted vertical, multi-story construction, conserving ground-level space for greenery. Lahore’s largest public university can and must adopt a similar model, ensuring growth without erasing its natural assets.
What is at stake is not just the quality of life today, but the health and future of generations to come. Every year, thousands of children in Lahore grow up with weakened lungs and diminished learning capacity because the air they breathe is filled with toxins.
Every year, families lose loved ones prematurely to respiratory or cardiac illnesses aggravated by smog. These stories of suffering could be eased if the city chose trees over concrete.
Punjab University’s New Campus presents a once-in-a-generation opportunity to make that choice. With over 1,000 acres available, it could become the flagship of South Asia’s urban afforestation movement, a model of how education and environment can work together to heal a city. The land is there. The science is there. What remains is the will to act before another smog season arrives to remind us of the cost of inaction.
November is only weeks away. Lahore will once again be blanketed in a haze of smoke and dust, and citizens will once again ask why nothing changes. This time, the answer could be different. A campus can become a forest. A forest can become a shield. And a shield could save a city that is gasping for breath.
Disclaimer: The viewpoints expressed in this piece are the writer's own and don't necessarily reflect Geo.tv's editorial policy.
The writer is a consultant and trainer with a deep interest in the environment, sustainability and quality of life in Pakistan.
Originally published in The News