FlOat like a butterfly, sting like a bee

Published January 22, 2017
Anisa — not losing sight of her dreams—Photos by Malika Abbas/White Star
Anisa — not losing sight of her dreams—Photos by Malika Abbas/White Star

There are days Azmeena Sanghar wakes up dreaming of winning Olympic gold.

“It feels so real that I can almost bite it,” says the 17-year-old amateur boxer, who started training at the Pak Shaheen Boxing Club on Lyari’s Jumma Baloch Road over a year ago.

“I was always interested in the sport — my father was a boxer and so was my uncle. I saw a couple of their photos in boxing gear and had heard so many stories from my mother that I couldn’t help but be fascinated,” she says.

“Both of them trained with my coach, Younus Qambrani, in the early to mid-90s but when I told my father that I wanted to become a boxer, he was against it,” she adds.


For young women who aspire to become pugilists, the challenge is often outside the ring


However, she explains, both of them could not take it up professionally as they had families to look after.

According to Azmeena, in 2015 her mother’s youngest brother showed her a video of Younus Qambrani’s daughters boxing.

Azmeena — up for any challenge
Azmeena — up for any challenge

“I was itching to go to the club. I asked my father every day for a week till one day he gave in and said don’t tell anyone where you are going — your mother will drop you off and I will pick you up,” she says.

Explaining her father’s concerns, Azmeena said that she came from a conservative Kutchhi community where girls rarely ventured out of the house.

“My father said that he could not allow me to go punch someone or watch me get hurt — what would the people in our Sanghar community say? What if this created issues with my future in-laws?” says the teenager, as she gets ready for her training session, removing her abaya and pulling up her socks.

“He told me to forget about it.”

Despite her father repeatedly telling her no, Azmeena’s mother was full of encouragement, which strengthened her resolve and she did not back down.

“It went on like this for a few days and I started becoming more confident about what I was doing so I told my parents I could come and go by myself, I didn’t need a chaperone,” she says.

By December that year, Azmeena was training at the club every day for an hour after school.

“My father was very relieved after he asked my father-in-law-to-be if he was fine with my boxing. I am very lucky that they didn’t have a problem with it,” she says.

In those days, all she could do was eat, sleep, talk about boxing all day if she had the chance.

“I used to be a sickly child,” she says, “my parents didn’t let me do much around the house or at school. My legs were weak and I would fall sick all the time. But now all that feels like it was a lifetime ago. Now I want to be like my favourite boxer, Mohammad Ali. I am in the best shape I have ever been.”

“Boxing has become a part of my life and has helped me change,” she says, adding that every day her obsession with the sport intensifies.

According to her coach Younus Qambrani, Azmeena is full of potential. “She was one of the first girls I trained outside the family and she has picked up a lot in a short span of time. She is going to go places if she gets the chance,” he says.

Trainers push the young women to their limits
Trainers push the young women to their limits

“My friends sometimes make fun of me and my love for boxing, they joke and say things like ‘oh don’t mess with Azmeena, she can knock you out’,” she adds.

In the Kutchhi community, boxing is something to feel proud of — if you have a boxer in the family it shows people that you come from a tough background. Azmeena’s tale is no different, particularly in the context of Lyari’s gang war that afflicted the locality for many years.


“I used to be a sickly child,” she says, “my parents didn’t let me do much around the house or at school. My legs were weak and I would fall sick all the time. But now all that feels like it was a lifetime ago. Now I want to be like my favourite boxer, Mohammad Ali. I am in the best shape I have ever been.”


“Both my parents lost a cousin each in the Lyari gang war — one was shot dead and the other was burnt to death with his brother,” says Azmeena, remembering the days of the gang war where one could barely walk down the street.

“There used to be a lot of firing in those days. One day, I remember it felt like everything was going to end — the maulvi at the masjid had asked everyone to recite the kalima because he was certain no one would survive — but we did,” she says.

According to the young boxer, one of the reasons she wanted to learn how to box was so that she could protect herself and her sisters.

“I want to be able to protect myself and my family if I have to,” she says, adding that she hoped she would be able to continue with boxing after she gets married.

“It really depends on my fiancé and his family, I suppose if they say no later, I will have to give it up…”

On the other side of Lyari, another girl wakes up every day at 5.58am to train harder, faster and stronger.

Anisa Mohammad Asghar starts her day by waking up for Fajr prayers. Then she scrambles into the kitchen to prepare breakfast for her parents and siblings. As the eldest daughter, she says, it is her responsibility.

Once the tea is on the table, she runs up to the roof for a quick jog. “I live in Shah Baig Lane. It’s not an area where we can just go walk in the streets or park so instead I go to my roof where I have some privacy and can keep myself fit,” she says.

The 20-year-old’s mornings and early afternoons are spent cleaning up the house, running chores for her mother and cooking. “By the time I’m done with all the household chores, I have just enough time to change my clothes and head to training,” she says.

Anisa, like Azmeena, is an amateur boxer who dreams of becoming a professional boxer and one day win Olympic gold.

However, unlike Azmeena, Anisa faced no objections from her father when she asked him if she could become a boxer.

Throwing punches
Throwing punches

“My father was surprised but in a pleasant way. It was sort of expected I guess as everyone in my family including him is a boxer,” she says.

As one of the oldest families in Lyari, Anisa comes from a long line of known boxers. Her great grandfather used to train with giants like Ustad Mama Satto and Mochi, while her father and uncles were students of Ustad Abdullah Baloch. Her father, Mohammad Asghar Baloch, is also the general secretary of the Sindh Boxing Association. Her eldest uncle, Malang Baloch, also won gold at the Asian Games.

These days she trains with her father’s brother and head coach of the Young Lyari Boxing Club located near the Baghdadi Police Station.

“I got into boxing quite randomly,” she says, “it started with my chacha’s daughter, Sara. She wasn’t allowed to come here by herself so we would accompany her sometimes. One by one, all of my cousins started coming to the club regularly and Nawab Baloch, my other uncle, used to train us.”

“My father and uncles are a great source of support for me because in the area where we live people don’t react well to the idea of girls stepping out of the house for anything, let alone sports,” she says.

Discussing her training routine, she says, “We started by just running around the club — then the training sessions started getting more intense with push-ups, sit-ups and other exercises.”

“When I started training, my body used to hurt so much after every session, but now I know I have become much stronger,” she adds.

“I didn’t think I had the strength till in December last year when I knocked a girl out in the first round. I felt powerful. I felt good.”

At home, according to Anisa, she gets to practice with her brothers and sometimes her father takes out time to sit with her and spar. “I get to learn from the best and that makes me feel like I have an advantage over other girls in the field,” she says.

Her father, she adds, sometimes also tests her knowledge of the game and often talks about his favourite boxers, including Mohammad Ali and Mike Tyson.

At the club, however, Anisa is just like anyone else. The coach, a no-nonsense type of man, does not tolerate gossip-mongers or latecomers. He wants everyone to focus on the game.

Anisa, who trains with a few of her cousins, says that there are times they have to fight each other and end up getting hurt but it’s all in good fun. “Except for proper fights, which we have at tournaments, there are no hard feelings when someone gets hurt in practice,” she says.

“When we are at the club, we just get to train — there is no talking, no laughing just boxing,” she says. “I’m not someone who actively goes looking for a fight in the streets but I think I can definitely beat up a few boys if I had to.”

Nawab Baloch opened the doors of his club to girls last year after seeing the kind of response Qambrani’s club had received in the Kutchhi neighbourhood.

“I knew of Qambrani as a good coach and now we have worked together at several tournaments,” says the coach who is well into his 70s. “I started training with Ustad Abdullah Baloch and Anisa’s father — my brother — started training with him as well … it was a natural step for her to get in the game. She is one of the best boxers at my club right now.”

“In Lyari, boxing and football are very important — so I decided to train girls as well as boys. There are 25 girls who come every day from 4pm-5pm. Sometimes we train till 6pm depending on their energy levels,” he says.

He adds that for him, boxing was a way of keeping the Baloch youth on the right path.

“If they [boys] are utilising their energy the right way they will not be tempted to go and do wrong things. In the gang-war days, I used to try and keep my club open as much as I could but there was always fear of firing or something wrong happening. There were days bombs would go off right in front of my club,” says the coach.

“Boxing became an integral part of our family once my father’s eldest brother and my male cousins started taking part in the game professionally. I was very interested in learning but at that time there was no room for girls to become boxers,” says Anisa.

“But then, when my uncle, Nawab, started training girls here, it gave me the courage to follow my dreams,” she adds.

Talking about the general perception of Lyari, she says, “You know everyone keeps talking about Lyari like it’s some sort of a hellhole. Yes, things do get bad here but one of the worst situations I have been stuck in was actually outside the area. Back in 2014, a judge or someone big had been attacked and the whole city went crazy — there were hand-grenades and bullets everywhere. I had just appeared for an exam and was stuck outside my area. I couldn’t get into Lyari, no rickshaw driver was ready to risk getting in and I had to make my way on foot.”

“People need to be positive and give Lyari a chance,” she adds.

The writer is a member of staff.

She tweets @tabahitooba

Published in Dawn, Sunday Magazine, January 22nd, 2017

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