Goalkeeper Rehana Jamali, 17, is jubilant. Her team came in second in the All Sindh Women Hockey Tournament, held last month.
“We were the youngest of the seven teams,” she told IPS over the phone from Jacobabad, Sindh province. The city hit headlines two years ago after being termed the hottest city on earth when its temperatures rose to 50 degrees Celsius. This year, the mercury shot up to 52°C there. “We were training for the tournament from May to June, when the heat was at its worst,” Jamali said.
“Obviously, this affected our game,” she admitted.
“You cannot imagine the obstacles these girls have to overcome,” pointed out Erum Baloch, 32, a schoolteacher and a former hockey player, who runs the only women’s sports academy in Jacobabad, the Stars Women Sports Academy, of which Jamali is a member.
In many parts of Pakistan, especially in small towns like Jacobabad, women are supposed to maintain a certain degree of invisibility and not bring too much attention to themselves. Exercising, stretching or even doing yoga postures while wearing T-shirts and track pants in a public place where men can watch, is awkward for many women in the country, as these can reveal a woman’s body shape.
A 2022 study, found that “almost 90 per cent” of Pakistani women and girls do not participate in sports or physical activities because of “religious and cultural limitations, a lack of permission from parents, and a lack of sports facilities and equipment”.
“Even when facilities are present in Pakistan, they are often outdated, open-air, and/or mixed gender, with female students often feeling embarrassed to participate in sports alongside, or be visible to, men. Hence, such women decide not to use these facilities,” the study pointed out.
Baloch left sports because Jacobabad could not provide women like her with “proper grounds, equipment or coaches.”
These are the very reasons why she wanted to open an academy just for women. It is completely free of charge, as “most girls come from extremely modest backgrounds and cannot even afford to pay for transport, a healthy meal or even bottled water,” she said.
“Erum pays for my daily commute to and from the sports ground,” Jamali said. In fact, Baloch spends between Rs25,000 and Rs30,000 ($90 and $108) each month from her own pocket to pay for the transport, bottled water during training and sachets of oral rehydration salts for some 30 to 40 girls, aged between 9 and 18.
Haseena Liaqat Ali, 19, was the most promising athlete at Baloch’s academy but six months ago she missed the trials for selection in the Pakistan Army’s team after she got infected with Hepatitis A.
“With rising gas and electricity prices, they cannot even afford to boil water at home,” said the coach, who thinks unclean water is a big reason for the people contracting the disease.
“I still feel very weak,” Ali said. Having left her treatment midway as her father could not afford the medicines, she has had a relapse.
“Life is unjust for the poor,” Baloch said, adding, “Sports stars often come from small towns like ours.”
But it is not just the cultural and economic barriers that are keeping Pakistani women out of the sporting arena; they must fight another barrier — climate change-induced rising temperatures.
“We get tired quickly,” Jamali said.
Haseena Soomro, 19, another athlete at the same academy, said: “The heat is unbearable, and we are unable to run fast.”
The girls play on astroturf, which absorbs more heat from the sun than grass and has no natural way of cooling. But Baloch said it was better than playing on loose earth, which they did in the past. “The sand would go in our eyes and because of the high temperatures, the soil would get too hot during the day.” Further, she said there was always the danger of snakes lurking under the earth.
To beat the heat, Baloch rescheduled the practice to begin late in the evening — from 6pm to 9pm, for which she had to go to each family personally to allow their girls to come for the training. Even at that time, she said, “The heat continues to be unforgiving.”
“Jacobabad refuses to cool down in the night and there is no wind,” pointed out Aqsa Shabbir, 17, another hockey player. And although she has an air conditioner in her home, she said it was nothing more than a “showpiece”, as they are without electricity for most of the night. “We never get a fitful night’s sleep.”
Baloch said the city was witnessing unprecedented power outages and together with the high temperatures, it has meant the residents never get any respite to cool down. John Jacob, the British brigadier general, who the city is named after, described the wind as “a blast from the furnace” even at night.
Ali’s home was without electricity for 15 days as their area transformer burst. “My father bought a solar panel on loan which generated enough electricity to light a bulb and a fan, but the strong winds ruined the glass on it and it does not work anymore,” she said.
The late evening training has also come with its own set of social problems.
Jannat Bibi, Jamali’s mother, who had given permission, grudgingly said it was getting tedious making excuses to the neighbours and relatives for her daughter’s absence from home or her coming home after dark.
“Girls cannot venture out alone after dark,” she said, adding: “This sport cannot continue for much longer,” she said, worried that if word gets out, it may be difficult to find a “good” marriage proposal for her daughter later.
“My father’s angry mood affects my performance, as I’m always tense about getting late,” Jamali said. “I wish my parents would be proud of my achievements, but all they are concerned about is what others are thinking,” she added irritably.
Dur Bibi Brohi, a former hockey player, got married at 19 and never played after that.
“That was the most beautiful time of my life,” reminisced the 23-year-old mother of two, thankful that her parents allowed her to travel out of the city and even out of the country for a few matches.
“The few years that I played sports changed me from a shy and meek person to a more confident me; I wish more parents could be like mine and not let societal pressures dictate them,” she added.
This is endorsed by Baloch.
“Women get strong physically and mentally through sports,” she said, giving her own example. She said it “healed” her when she was in depression after she lost her only brother in a suicide bombing in 2015.
“I was 25 and he was 23, and he was my best buddy.”
She had already lost her father when she was four. And being in the sports arena helps her even now as a health carer for her mother, who is a cancer patient.
Another challenge is their attire.
“Initially, I felt shy playing in a T-shirt and track pants and kept pulling the shirt down as it showed off my thighs,” Jamali said.
“Most girls find this dress code awkward, and it affects their concentration,” Baloch said.
But Jamali realised she could not run as swiftly in the loose, long shirt with heavy embroidery on the front, baggy pants and chadar [big scarf] that she wears at home.
“I have accepted the uniform,” she said, but makes sure she wears an abaya (a loose gown) over it when leaving her home to reach the sports ground. “Seeing me in Western attire on the street would create quite a scandal in the neighbourhood!” she said.
A way out of all these barriers, said Baloch, would be a small ‘5-A side’ air-conditioned facility. “It will be the biggest support for women athletes in Jacobabad in the summer, which is long and unbearable here,” she said.
In addition, Baloch also believed that if the government is serious about encouraging women to enter sports and play their best, they need continuous support in the form of a stipend to be able to manage their transport, nutrition and health needs.
“I sometimes manage to get uniforms and shoes sponsored but this slapdash approach needs to stop,” she added.
Zofeen Ebrahim is an independent journalist. She posts on X @zofeen28
This article was originally published in the Inter Press Service news agency’s UN Bureau with support from the Open Society Foundations. It has been reproduced on Geo.tv with permission.
