There was a time when Arab women were master trackers, archers, horse-riders and sword fighters. Fit and powerful, they would keep up with the men in almost every field out there, as well as be homemakers and mothers. They were tough.
One of my favourite stories is from one of early Islam’s historic battles, the battle of Uhud, where an unlikely hero emerged. When I was a student at a school in Jeddah, her story was read to us by a Saudi teacher.
“Wherever I turned, to the left or the right, I saw her fighting for me,” said Prophet Muhammad, referring to Nasibah bint Ka’b Al Maziniyyah, better known as Umm Umarah. She fought in many battles, attended historic events, rode horses and even lost a hand in one battle. She was a wife, a mother, a warrior and also a nurse who cared for the wounded.
I recall how we all wanted to learn sword fighting and horse-riding, to become like Umm Umarah.
It is ironic while we were being taught about this woman and others who stood next to men and worked along them, we weren’t allowed to do anything at all remotely “masculine”, like sports. Running after a ball or after each other always got us a whistle of warning. “You have to behave like ladies. No running and acting like boys,” was a daily warning for us more tomboy-types.
We would sneak in basketballs and footballs and play around in the back of the buildings; for while officially we had no sports class, there was a rusty hoop dangling in a corner. We would create our own goal locations using rocks and shoes. We had teams, and played by our own rules. Even the “gentlest” girls released their aggression during these games, with some of us leaving bruised and with torn uniforms. Whenever women are described as the fairer and gentler gender, I reply: “You haven’t seen them play unsupervised basketball.”
Finally, after decades of a ban, there is a recommendation by Saudi Arabia’s consultative Shura Council to lift the ban on sports in girls’ state schools. Private schools eased this rule last year, but had always been more relaxed about it. The Education Ministry is assessing whether to lift the ban or keep it.
But then again, sport was never a big thing in many Arab countries. While boys were allowed to do sport and their parents would send them to sports clubs, most didn’t really excel at it. It is only recently you see interest returning to sports in the Arab world, particularly in the Gulf, with champions rising from Saudi Arabia, UAE and Qatar.
In 2012, Saudi women made Olympic history when Sarah Attar competed in track and field and Wojdan Shaherkani in judo. Before them, there was Dalma Rushdi Malhas, who competed at the 2010 Singapore Youth Olympics and won a bronze medal in equestrian.
Looking back, as far back as the early 1900s, Arab sportsmen and sportswomen would compete at international championships. They talk about how no one helped them, they would train on the streets, and how the athletes all knew each other across the Arab world and often competed among themselves for an elusive dream.
There are many stories of world champions who trained on their own – some without even shoes – and yet made it to the top. I believe that proper facilities and funding are nothing without that inner determination to win at any cost.
I look back at the older generation of Arab athletes, who overcame warfare and lack of funds to win medals and become national champions. But who remembers them? We should document and pay homage to the athletes of the past who had fewer opportunities than any of us today. A start would be to compile lists of winners of the Arab League championships or any of the pan-Arab games from recent decades.
The older generation of heros could perhaps inspire a new generation, to excel in sports for the sake of one’s country and one’s self – a new generation of warriors, but on a different kind of battlefield.
rghazal@thenational.ae
On Twitter:@Arabianmau
