Drive down Oak Tree Road in Edison on a Saturday afternoon, and the scent of fresh tandoori chicken and cardamom chai drifts through strip mall parking lots packed with cars bearing New York and Pennsylvania plates.
This is not a scene from Karachi or Lahore. This is New Jersey, 2026, and it has quietly become one of the most concentrated centers of Pakistani-American life in the United States.
More than 44,000 residents of Pakistani origin now call New Jersey home, according to census data. Community leaders say the real number climbs higher—undercounting is a familiar grievance among immigrant communities who juggle multi-generational households, language barriers, and a deep suspicion of government forms.
Whatever the precise tally, the impact is unmistakable. From the high-rises of Jersey City to the sprawling subdivisions of Edison and into South Jersey’s growing enclaves, Pakistani-Americans have planted roots that now reach into city halls, operating rooms, and the corridors of political power.
A Political First, Then Another
In Montgomery Township, Sadaf Jaffer made history as the first Pakistani-American female mayor in the United States.
In Mount Laurel, Fauzia Janjua followed, shattering a different ceiling.
Their elections were not anomalies but markers of a community that has learned to organize precinct by precinct, school board meeting by school board meeting.
“I wear my identity on my sleeve. I’m a first generation Pakistani American and I’ve learned, over the years, that no matter how much you try to integrate and assimilate, you are defined by the way you look,” said Janjua. “My identity, my South-Asian-ness, is the first thing that people see when they see me. When they get to know me they get to know about my religion because Islam is a big part of my life. I’m very proud of that identity, it’s something I want my kids to be proud of.”
Assemblywoman Shama A. Haider, who has represented the 37th legislative district in the New Jersey General Assembly since January 11, 2022, was born and raised in Pakistan, where she attended the University of Punjab, and served as secretary to the First Lady of Pakistan Nusrat Bhutto before she emigrated to the United States in 1977.
The Pakistani American Political Action Committee, a group led by Dr. Atif Jalees Khan, maintains an active New Jersey chapter, pressing congressional offices on everything from immigration reform to diaspora aid.
In Jersey City, flag-raisings for Pakistan’s Independence Day have become annual fixtures at City Hall, drawing crowds that spill onto the sidewalk.
The American Pakistan Foundation funnels resources into youth leadership programs, and the Pakistani Community of New Jersey, based in Princeton, hosts food festivals and heritage nights that sell out weeks in advance.
None of this happened by accident. The 1965 Immigration and Nationality Act opened doors that had been bolted shut, and Pakistani professionals—doctors, engineers, accountants—walked through them. They came to New Jersey because the hospitals were hiring, the schools were strong, and the proximity to New York offered opportunity without the city’s price tag.
The Scalpel’s Edge
No single professional cohort tells the story of this community more clearly than its physicians. Pakistani-American doctors constitute the second-largest population of foreign-trained physicians in the United States, trailing only graduates of Indian medical schools.
Throughout the United States, and in New Jersey, they are everywhere: in emergency rooms, cardiology suites, family practices, and specialty clinics from Hoboken to Bayville.
Dr. Mansoor Mohiuddin, a 1989 graduate of Karachi’s Dow Medical College. He made global headlines when he implanted a genetically modified pig heart into a living patient at the University of Maryland School of Medicine—a procedure that pushed xenotransplantation from science fiction to surgical fact.
Mohiuddin is now considered a world authority on transplanting animal organs, a field that could solve the lethal shortage of human donor hearts. He is not a New Jersey practitioner, but his journey traces a familiar arc: Pakistani training, American fellowship, world-changing work.
Closer to home, the roster is staggering.
Dr. Aleya Salam, trained at Rutgers New Jersey Medical School, treats non-surgical spine conditions at MidJersey Orthopaedics. Dr. Ezza Khan battles infectious diseases in Hunterdon County.
Dr. Javed Islam runs PromptMD, an urgent care network, from his base in Hoboken. Dr. Rizwana Khan sees primary care patients at an affiliate of Robert Wood Johnson University Hospital. Dr. Arif Naseem practices internal medicine under the Hackensack Meridian Health system in Bayville.
Dr. Alina Kifayat, fluent in Urdu and Pashto, treats rheumatology patients at Englewood Health.
These doctors are not outliers. They are the norm.
More Than Medicine: A Community’s Safety Net
The Association of Physicians of Pakistani Descent of North America, known as APPNA, has a thriving New Jersey chapter. Founded in 2003, it has grown from a small gathering of colleagues into an organization that runs free clinics, awards medical scholarships, and sends charitable aid to Pakistan after every monsoon flood and earthquake.
Dr. Amina Saqib, the chapter’s president, put it plainly: “Our free clinics have served thousands of patients who might otherwise have gone without care. Our scholarship programs have opened doors for the next generation. Our charitable initiatives have reached communities in need both here in New Jersey and across Pakistan.”
She paused before adding a line that captures why this community endures: “But our work is more than medicine. It is about identity, belonging, and the enduring power of community. When we gather, we are not just colleagues. We are family.”
That family now faces a moment of generational transition.
The doctors who arrived in the 1970s and 80s are slowing down. Their children—many of them lawyers, tech executives, and elected officials—are accelerating. The free clinics still run. The gala still sells tickets. The mentorship pipeline still funnels young Pakistani-Americans into medical schools.
But the underlying question has shifted.
After decades of building institutions, earning trust, and treating patients, the Pakistani-American community of New Jersey is no longer asking how to fit in.
It is asking what to do with the power it has already won.
For all of America’s egalitarian ideals, physical appearance—particularly race and ethnicity—continues to play a significant role in how individuals are perceived and treated.
As President Donald Trump brutally exploits the diversity within our nation, it may be more important than ever to create a stronger community by informing conversations, policies and research about race and ethnicity in America.