Q&A: Zahrah Ahmad — A Pakistani Psychologist on Belonging, Barriers and Breaking In

Zahra Ahmed is a trainee clinical psychologist in Scotland. In this conversation, she speaks about representation, growing up Pakistani in the UK, and what it means to enter a field where people like her are still rare.

Q: Can you tell us about your background and how you ended up in psychology?

Zahra Ahmed: I actually wanted to be a teacher at first. But as I learned more about mental health, I realised how much stigma there is in our culture; we don’t talk about depression, we don’t talk about anxiety. That really stuck with me.

I started studying psychology at university and completely fell in love with it. But I also noticed very quickly how underrepresented Pakistani and Muslim psychologists were. Even now, on my training course, I’m the only South Asian and the only Muslim out of 47 people.

Q: Did being Pakistani make it harder to enter the field?

Zahra: Honestly, yes, but it’s complicated. Getting into clinical psychology is hard for everyone. There are around 1,200 applicants for fewer than 50 places because it’s fully funded by the NHS.

But when a few of us Pakistani girls were applying, it did feel like there were extra barriers. Even now, the lack of representation is obvious. You start wondering: Is this just how competitive it is, or is there something else going on, too?

Q: You’ve mentioned noticing regional differences as well. What did you mean by that?

Zahra: I found that when I applied to courses in England, I actually had more success. I even got an interview at Oxford, but not in Scotland that year, which really surprised me.

In Scotland, especially in places like Inverness, there’s just less diversity overall. So whether that played a role or not, I don’t know. But the difference was noticeable.

Q: Growing up in the UK, did you ever feel caught between cultures?

Zahra: Definitely. There’s this stereotype that if you’re British, you must be really “Western”. When I go to Pakistan, my cousins are shocked that I speak Urdu properly or that I don’t drink.

They’re like, “But you’re from Britain?” And I’m like… yes, and?

At the same time, growing up here, you’re often made to feel like you’re too Pakistani. You’re constantly adjusting yourself depending on where you are.

Q: How does that show up in your professional life now?

Zahra: You’re very aware of being the only one in the room. The only Muslim. The only South Asian. Sometimes that means extra pressure, feeling like you’re representing your entire community, whether you want to or not. But it also means patients who look like me or come from similar backgrounds finally see someone who understands them without explanation. That part really matters.

Q: What do you think needs to change?

Zahra: Representation, first of all, not just at the entry level, but in leadership, in training, in decision-making roles.

And culturally, we still need to move past the idea that mental health is something we don’t talk about. A lot of Pakistani families are changing, especially younger generations, but the systems haven’t fully caught up yet.

Q: Despite everything, do you feel you made the right choice?

Zahra: Absolutely. It took years of undergrad, master’s, PhD, assistant roles, but I’m in my second year now, and I love it. It is hard. But being here also feels like proof that we belong in these spaces, too.

To hear more about Zahrah, check out our socials...

Instagram: @parchayi.uk

Tiktok: @parchayi.uk