When the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC) broke ground in 2015, the headlines were predictable: mega-project, geopolitical game-changer, debt trap or development miracle. No one mentioned women. Why would they? CPEC was about roads and rails, not rights and representation.

And yet, almost a decade later, it’s doing what decades of donor-funded empowerment schemes often couldn't: giving Pakistani women, especially in remote and underserved areas, the means to work, move, and participate in the economy. Not through rhetoric or policy pledges, but through roads, electricity, and public transport.

This isn’t the story of a top-down gender initiative. It’s the story of how infrastructure, almost accidentally, became Pakistan’s most effective women’s empowerment tool.

CPEC is often criticised as a geopolitical gamble, framed through debt concerns, strategic competition, and Chinese influence. But while policymakers debate its global implications, there’s a quieter transformation taking place inside Pakistan.

In long-neglected towns and villages, women are participating in the economy for the first time because roads now connect them, electricity is more reliable, and transport is finally within reach. What years of policy promises failed to deliver, infrastructure is beginning to make possible.

For millions of women, especially in rural Pakistan, mobility was the first barrier. Poor infrastructure made commutes unsafe, long, or outright impossible. Education and work weren’t denied by culture alone, but by crumbling roads, unreliable transport, and lack of power. That’s beginning to change.

Take Gilgit-Baltistan. Tourism in the north is booming thanks to the expanded Karakoram Highway, and women-led businesses like Bozlanj Café in Hunza are thriving as a result.

The café, run entirely by local women, now caters to a steady stream of visitors. With better access has come consistent revenue, stable employment, and a rare sense of autonomy in a region where economic opportunity for women was once almost nonexistent.

Before CPEC upgrades, most local women worked informally, if at all, and few could imagine running a business. The shift is not just economic; it’s cultural.

Officials from Pakistan’s Ministry of Planning, Development and Special Initiatives have repeatedly described CPEC as a tool for inclusive development, citing its role in reducing regional disparities and expanding access to jobs in underserved regions. These official goals are now beginning to materialise on the ground.

Energy and employment

In Pakistan-administered Kashmir, where skilled jobs for women were rare, CPEC-linked energy projects have created on-site opportunities for women engineers who previously had to relocate or leave the profession. With technical roles scarce and mobility limited, many qualified women simply stayed home. Now, infrastructure has brought jobs to them.

The impact is felt across the country. In Punjab, textile factories in Faisalabad are scaling up thanks to improved energy supply under CPEC. Reliable electricity has created stable jobs, especially for semi-skilled female workers. The Allama Iqbal Industrial City, one of CPEC’s special economic zones, is fast becoming a hub of women’s employment, not just men’s.

They now have long-term jobs in a province where industrial work is a primary driver of women's participation in the formal workforce.

Then there’s Lahore, Pakistan’s capital of culture. Here the Orange Line Metro has improved urban mobility for thousands of women.

Reliable, affordable public transport has made it easier to access jobs and education across the

city, reducing dependence on expensive ride-hailing apps and lowering exposure to

harassment during commutes in shared, cramped, vehicles.

For many women, this daily commute shift means the difference between staying home and showing up.