Pakistan: women ride motorcycles and defy traditions

On a dusty field in Karachi, the largest city in Pakistan, women with colorful veils, enclosed by helmets, learn to slalom between cones on the handlebars of small-displacement motorcycles.

This kind of scene is rare in this conservative Muslim country, where women are generally relegated to the back of cars, or seated side-saddle - both legs on the same side -, and especially not astride, on a two- wheels driven by a man from their family.

,” says Zainab Safdar, 40, as she demonstrates how to ride a motorbike with her body covered in a pink abaya.

She is an instructor for

, a women-only group in Karachi that teaches novices how to ride, from the basics of standing on a bike, to changing gears, to learning how to weave in traffic.

Since its creation in 2017 by a few pioneers, the group has grown significantly.

It now has more than 1,500 members: housewives, students and working women.

about girls' ability to ride motorcycles, notes Zainab Safdar.

In Pakistan, many women give up working simply because there is only limited public transport available to guarantee their safety.

In this sprawling city, giving women the skills and confidence to join men in the hustle and bustle of traffic opens up a new space of freedom.

Most of the students may come from the middle class of Karachi, but decency remains closely respected.

Shafaq Zaman, 30, a university lecturer, said it

from her family to take lessons to learn how to ride a bike two months ago.

Emancipation tool

Among the dozen women gathered in the late afternoon sun, she watches with her seven-year-old daughter, Aleesha, as a few of them start their engines, then hit the gas and drive off in a cloud of dust .

,” she said.

There is nothing unusual about his story.

In Pakistan, very young boys are often seen riding motorcycles, but among the members of the

many do not learn to ride a bike until they are sometimes well into adulthood.

“There should be a bicycle in every house.

And usually there is one, but it rots because men don't use it and women don't know how to use it,”

remarks Sana Kamran, 41, sitting – confidently – astride her Suzuki 110. CC.

, she asks.

Motorcycles, most often small red Hondas or cheap Chinese replicas, considered capable of traversing all types of terrain, are omnipresent in Pakistan.

While learning to control hers, Farwa Zaidi, 26, experienced several falls and fractures.

But injuries are a badge of prestige that she wears as proudly as the

badge on her hoodie.

she says, standing near her electric scooter.

With his small height, 1m37, it is difficult for him to find a place inside the crowded city buses.

But learning to drive opened up a new horizon for him.

. ”