BIKE WRITER

a rider’s journey

From my childhood, cycling was one of my favourite things to do. I was quite young when my father bought cycles for my brothers and my elder sister. I was so angry with him for not getting me my own cycle like others. Eventually, my sister gave up her cycle, saying she didn’t enjoy it, so it became mine. I used to ride it for hours after school.

I remember we once sent our cycles to a shop for repair. Sadly, the shop’s roof collapsed due to harsh weather, destroying my cycle. I cried a lot that day. Then, my brother came up with the idea that a man in the market rented out bikes. So, I started saving my pocket money, and after school, I could afford to rent a cycle for at least one hour. The rent used to be 5 rupees per hour. Since I received 2 rupees daily, I could only afford to ride every three days. I spent a few years like that.

Back then, there was an advertisement by a cold drink company that said if you found cycle pictures on bottle caps, you could win a new one. I started searching for those, and one day, I finally found some. The shopkeeper took the caps and told me, “Bring your father with you.” I was so mad and angry. I told my father, and he asked my brother to go with me. We went again, but the shopkeeper repeated, “Bring your father.” My father never went with me.

Later, my brother bought a motorcycle after passing his Matriculation exams, and I really wanted to learn how to ride it. He gave me lessons two or three times, but then he got angry and said bike wasn’t for girls and that I shouldn’t ride it.

Once, a cousin visited us to show off his new bike. I was 15 at the time, and during our conversation, he challenged me, saying, “You can’t even sit on it and handle this thing.” I said, “Challenge accepted!” I started the bike. My younger sister was sitting behind me, and I sped off so quickly that we almost flew into the back door of the house. The door broke down completely, and my sister and I got some bruises, while the bike was slightly damaged. My mother grounded me, and my father said, “Thank God the door was closed - otherwise, we would have been fixing the neighbour’s wall,” and everyone laughed.

After that incident, I never tried to ride a bike again until September 2016, when I finally got my own scooty, a 50cc one. I bought a used one from Rawalpindi and asked the seller to deliver it to my office. I was nervous at first and requested a colleague to drop me off at my hostel. When we got there, I asked him to stay for another half hour and teach me how to ride it. He gave me a few tips on control, and I got on and started riding. After my first round, he said, “You’re a natural. Keep practicing inside the parking lot for 30 minutes - then you can drive it tomorrow,” and he left.

But I didn’t wait. I took my scooty and went to Aabpara Market because I knew that if I didn’t ride on the road, I’d never overcome my fear. On my first ride to Aabpara, my friend Shazia Ejaz spotted me and stopped her car in front of me. She hugged me and said, “You are opening so many doors for girls.” That was the first-ever compliment I got. It gave me courage, and from that day onwards, I never stopped riding.

In the beginning, people encouraged me. I remember both women and men appreciating me. Men often asked where they could get one, if their daughters could ride, and if I could teach them. I even taught a few random people’s daughters because I never wanted to be the only female bike user in town. I even taught few of my friends how to ride a scooty and help them buy one. Within a year, I saw more than 15 girls buy scooties and start going to universities and workplaces. These 15 were the ones to whom I had given the number of the guy who sold the scooties.

It wasn’t an easy ride. I got chased by boys, heard inappropriate comments, and witnessed disturbing gestures. Once, a man even threatened me with a gun-like hand gesture, saying he would kill me if he saw me again. I always ignore such things because my bike is a necessity - especially during this economic crisis as it’s a cheap and safe mode of transport.

To overcome traffic fear while riding, start on quiet roads, practice defensive riding, wear protective gear, stay alert, and consider taking a riding course to build confidence.

You must know the traffic rules and always stay in your lane. You also need to stay focused and observe the behaviour of other drivers. Above everything, you need to be confident.

I didn’t just use my bike for daily commuting - it became my adventure partner too. I’ve travelled to parts of Northern Pakistan and Kashmir on my bike. It gives me a sense of freedom and security. With my bike, I can also pursue my passion for photography, as I don’t have to wait for anyone to take me to new locations - I just start my bike and go.

Over time, I upgraded my scooties first to a 250cc scooter and then to a bike. With the bike came so many travel stories. On weekends, I often go to the mountains or roam around the city.

Now, my bike is not only my regular mode of transport but also a source of fun and joy.

To all the girls considering getting a bike or scooty, I’d say: go for it. Having your own ride is incredibly liberating and fun. It saves time and energy, and spares you the hassle and uncertainty of public transport. Plus, it’s a great confidence booster.

The writer works in media in Islamabad. Her X handle is @mawishfakhar