Pakistani women conquer the male-dominated sport of 'neza baazi'

Rawalpindi, Pakistan – On a chilly January morning, Anum Shakoor, 30, galloped across a field, gripping a 1.8-meter lance, her black shawl fluttering behind. She had just retrieved her first wooden peg and was charging toward a second target. But she missed by just 2.5 centimeters. A collective sigh rose from the packed stands. Shakoor sighed, slowing her horse amid the barren fields on the outskirts of Rawalpindi, in Punjab province, northern Pakistan.

This is "neza baazi" (javelin throwing), an ancient and grueling sport where riders gallop full-speed to spear a small wooden peg buried in the ground. The event, known as a "mela," often draws thousands of male spectators, mostly turbaned men. But amid the sea of people, one team stood out: Bint-e-Zahra, Pakistan's first all-female neza baazi club, founded by Shakoor in 2025 after she grew frustrated with women riders training only in mixed clubs. "We wanted to create a space for women to build community," she said.

The Bint-e-Zahra team has four members: Shakoor, two 16-year-old girls—Eshal Ibrahim and Noor un Nisa Malik—and Sehrish Awan, 32, a mother of two competing for the first time. Ibrahim's mother accompanied her closely, "unable to leave a teenage girl alone among a sea of men," said Fatima Adeel. Their arrival always draws attention from photographers, vloggers, and locals. Shakoor shared: "Any woman wanting to join this sport deserves encouragement and respect. Our society struggles to accept women leading in any field."

'There is no concept of an athlete'

A few kilometers away, Ayesha Khan, 22, rode her horse Sawa—whom she has ridden since age 8—for practice. She is the captain of Pakistan's national women's neza baazi team. In 2022, she led the team to Jordan to compete against 13 nations and secured third place. "That was the only international trip for the Pakistani women's team. There was none before, and none after," she said. In 2024, the International Neza Baazi Federation held an open tournament in Jordan, and Pakistan sent only a men's team, even though it was open to women. "In Pakistan, there is no concept of 'athlete.' It's only 'male' and 'female.' Unless there is a women-only tournament, the federation only sends a men's team," Khan said. Despite this, she persisted: at age 20, she became the first Pakistani woman to defeat 70 male riders at a mela.

How women entered the sport

The event near Rawalpindi was organized by Samiullah Barsa, 27, a Pakistani-American, as part of a wedding celebration. His family migrated from Punjab to Ohio in the 1980s. Barsa recalled the first time he saw women competing in neza baazi was in 2015 at a mela in Kot Fateh Khan, hometown of Malik Ata, revered as the "father of neza baazi." Ata once invited an Australian women's team, paving the way for Pakistani women. In 2021, the Pakistan Equestrian Federation, founded by Ata, sponsored six girls to train in South Africa. Khan was among them. "Now it's time for women to have their own team," Barsa said.

'I never give up'

Shakoor faces significant social pressure. "My mother often said I must get married. But because I'm in this masculine sport, she worried I'd struggle to find a good proposal. My sister too, but I never give up." Her brother stepped in to defend her. Khan heard relatives whisper to her mother: "It's probably just a phase; she should focus on studies." Both face financial hurdles: a sport horse costs about $1,500, and monthly upkeep ranges from $107 to $125, nearly matching the minimum wage in Punjab. Shakoor saves from her managerial salary. She has missed many events due to insufficient funds to transport her horse. "If I'm sick, I don't care about medicine, but I lose sleep if my horse is ill." To attend one mela, her team spent over 100,000 rupees ($358) transporting five horses, plus food and accommodation.

Social media fame comes at a price

Videos of female riders garner millions of views on Instagram and TikTok. But backlash follows. Khan recalls a viral video of women riders wearing turbans—a masculine symbol in the sport—which drew criticism from veteran male riders, claiming "women are defiling the sport." The women remain steadfast. Shakoor showed a photo of her with her teacher Chaudry Nazakat Hussain, both wearing turbans, picking up pegs together. "My teacher encouraged me to found Bint-e-Zahra."

Last year, at a mela in Jathli, Shakoor was the only woman to reach the final round of seven team captains. Though she didn't win, she considers it an achievement. "This is a sport for the brave. If you don't have heart, you don't belong. Passion and dedication have no gender. We don't want to prove we're better than men. We just want equal respect," she said.