‘I still remember the first day when I cycled in an abaya and what I faced that day...'
- Duaa Amir
- Feb 5, 2023
- 4 min read
Name: Zulekha Dawood
Age: 30
Place of Residence: Lyari, Karachi
Occupation: Project coordinator at Lyari’s Girls Cafe
A vehicle is a means of commuting which brings about mobility, which then encourages freedom. And perhaps it is not the vehicle but the freedom that patriarchy is up against.
‘Cycle is just a normal thing. Riding a cycle is not something that can be considered bad’ Zulekha begins telling me when I ask her about her encounters with patriarchy. Having joined Lyari’s Girls Café (LGC) as a social mobiliser, Zulekha’s job mostly comprised of field work and this was when she initiated the project. Every Sunday, girls from Lyari get together and cycle across the city early in the morning. The cycle and training are both provided by LGC.
Zulekha was leading the first ever cycling group and was nervous, but also unaware of sorts.
‘I still remember the first day when I cycled in an abaya and what I faced that day. I still remember.’ This cohort of girls who were finding liberty and happiness by such a simple activity were stopped and reminded of their ‘culture’ – from boys who were not more than 15 years old. Men must have stared and shown their disrespect, but they continued cycling.
‘Being able to cycle gives you some sort of freedom. You face a lot of things and then become the person that you are.’ Zulekha smiled. I can tell that she loves cycling, and the liberty that it has afforded her. Apart from football and boxing which are both taught at LGC, cycling is a sport that can’t be conducted within the premises of the café. And while this might be a call for uncomfortable situations; it only makes it the most stimulating. Zulekha proudly mentioned a lawyer who learnt cycling and now travels to work on her scooty.
The purpose of this café was to counter the effects of years of gang violence that Lyari had seen. The violence was visible in the form of bullets that had left a mark on walls and streets that then felt unfamiliar. Zulekha recalled an incident where her brother who had left for Friday prayers got slightly injured when a bomb was dropped in the locality. He was taken to the hospital and like many others had become fearful.
The violence was imprinted on the minds of people even after the violent period ended. Zulekha explained how men then started going out to meet friends, engaged in stress relieving activities but the women could not step out of their houses due to cultural notions. Something had to be done to help women in coping up with the trauma.
LGC promised a place where women could get together for gup-shup, alongside acquiring skills which appealed to the audience. Zulekha first volunteered here and then permanently joined the café knowing that this is the direction in which she wanted to steer her life in. ‘I want to work for Lyari, and the women of Lyari.’
She now feels confident and independent. She also tells me how she likes to socialize and feels most comfortable with everyone at LGC. But it wasn’t always like this. Growing up, Zulekha was shy and mostly reserved.
‘Now even I am surprised. This Zulekha is very different from the childhood Zulekha’ she adds.
Zulekha grew up in a family of seven with parents who have been very supportive throughout her life. She specifically mentions her father who is also her role model, and how he countered every remark that her extended family members must have passed on her life choices. He accompanied her to each interview and supported her in her fight for women’s rights. She remained firm and so did he. It was her brother who taught her cycling when she was 15, which was the most care free of the times.
‘Things weren’t so bad back then, or was it because I was small. But growing up I could feel boundaries being built around me.’
She saw these evident boundaries when she started wearing an abaya as a teenager. ‘I still wear an abaya, but only for my protection. If I go without an abaya people look at me’ she paused for a moment and then continued, ‘But then I realized that they look at you anyways. I can’t put into words the experience of those two seconds in which you have to cross the street.’
She further explained these seconds in the following words: Sab ki nazrein apke taqub main hoti hain. This is where we both stopped and took a breather. The gravity of her words might get lost in translation (entirely due to my lacking) but she meant to say that 'people’s eyes are always in your pursuit.'
In hopes of dismantling these boundaries, Zulekha completed her matric in computer science. She then gave her inter privately due to a four year gap in her studies because of the turbulent situation of Lyari during which all activities came to a halt. She also went on to study International relations and English literature.
Despite the evident educational advances in Lyari, the situation is still unfortunate when it comes to women’s rights. Zulekha says that political and religious reasons used to hinder the progress of this society are all part of a ‘game.’ Sports, music and arts are all deeply imbedded within Lyari but without the adequate support and if such support is ever extended, it is mostly limited to one gender.
Even after having freely accessible cycling classes with a female instructor, many women drop out due to family pressures. During the initial phase of these classes, the staff at LGC had trouble finding space for cycling. ‘It’s weird if you think that there was no space available in this huge city’ Zulekha emphasizes.
She accepts that things are changing and that there is always some nature of good in her surroundings. This good is showcased in her street photography which is a beloved hobby of hers. Zulekha wants to be a part of the good that is present and the good that she is working for.
Zulekha wants to ensure that women are independent, aware of their rights and free to cycle! Even if 10 women take up this fight after her, she’ll consider her job done.
Many women like Zulekha dream of streets that they can claim. This reminded of Amjad Islam Amjad’s ghazal that demands a zameen in the second line of this beautiful verse:
Mujhe apne jeene ka haq chahiye Woh zameen jis pe mere qadam tik sakain Aur sar pe kushaada falak chahiye Mujhe apne jeene ka haq chahiye
Yorumlar