How a club Kabadi changes the life of Indian girls

Meena’s eyes are thrown from left to right and back, looking for a fleeting moment when she can make her move.

She plays Kabadi, Indian contact sports, now played in more than 50 countries worldwide.

Kabadi game is played between two teams, each with seven players. People alternate to encounter half the opposition on the pitch to mark their opponents and return it to their own half without dealing with the ground.

But for the 14-year-old Meena, this is more than winning points. Sport offers an escape from limited rural life and opens a world of opportunities.

“It feels different when I play,” she says shyly and struggles to find the words. “At that moment, I am not a mea, who is obliged to work in the household, weighed by pressure and expectations. It is only me and an opponent … I feel that I am more powerful than other girls who do not play.”

Meena lives on the outskirts of a small tribal village, Kudoshi, about 230 km from the financial capital of India, Mumbai, where the life of girls has traditionally revolved around household affairs, marriage and children.

But 15 years ago, a group of teachers at the village school decided that they wanted to give girls more opportunities.

“I have a daughter. I want her to achieve things in life, to live the best life that can be something,” says one of them, Daji Rajguru. “Why can’t girls play Kabadi and make a career from that?”

So he and his colleagues, who had played Kabadi when they were younger, thought it would be good to teach local girls how to play. Their savings collected – 5,000 rupees ($ 60; £ 50) – persuaded the school to allow them to use their grounds and open what they think was the first Kabaddi club in the region in the region.

In the beginning, only two girls who were students at the school joined. “The parents were not ready to let their girls play Kabadi as it meant spending a lot of time away from home,” he says. “They are also worried about the impact they can have on their daughter’s marriage prospects,” as traditional families would not approve of girls to go out and go home late.

Daji and his colleagues went from door to door, soothing their parents that their daughters would be safe by playing training boards before and after school. They reassure them that they will control the girls properly and do not allow them to be distracted by the boys.

At first, the teachers would take the girls from their homes and release them, but with the growth of the numbers, they were no longer able to do so. There are now about 30 girls in the club and they believe about 300 have trained with them since they started training, including Daji’s own daughter. Some start playing at the age of seven.

Like the other club members, Meena trains two hours before school and two hours after the classes are completed. She has to leave her home at dawn and does not return to the night.

“I’m going alone and it’s dark (in the morning). I was afraid that someone could do something to me. My family was not supported then and I’m not still dissatisfied with my choice to become a sports woman,” she says.

But she stubbornly, inspired by the club members, who have been distinguished over the years and joined state teams or local leagues. Siddi Chalke and Samrine Buranar were among the first batch of girls to train at the club for about eight years. Now, at the age of 25, they are professional players and are financially independent.

At the beginning, their families think that playing Kabadi is a phase that will go through and when women decided to make a career of it, their parents were not happy. There is still pressure to get married, but at the same time their families are also proud that women are doing well.

“Nobody in my family wins as much as I do,” says Samryen. “I live in a big city now and I get to make my own choice. Come from my community. It is difficult for girls to continue after what they want. I am here only for Kabadi,” she says.

Sidhi plays on the same team as Samryne – their friendship born of Kabadi. They traveled around India for competitions, winning medals and championships. “I could only do it for the sake of Kabadi. Otherwise I would have married and ended up in the place of my husband, washing the plates,” Sidhi says, and they both laugh, seemingly relieved that they escaped this fate.

Excluding sports in India can also help players get a job in the public sector. The Indian states are allocating jobs for high sports achievements, they guarantee income even after the player’s active sports years are over.

Many rural girls are involved in sports with the dream of gaining financial independence through these jobs. This can also help them get more respect and a sense of identity.

“When we started the sports club, no one gave any importance to these girls. They have always been secondary citizens in their homes, in society,” says Villas Benre, a young coach at the club.

“But we realized that when rural girls climb forward in their lives through sports, their lives change significantly. The way they speak, the way they carry themselves, their way of life, everything changes.”

Even if they have not become professional sports women, many members of the club have seen that their confidence is growing and convinced their families to put them to university and delay their marriage until they are older.

The community also became more acceptable, and when they see the girls who exercise, people no longer frost.

The club is funded by coaches, cash prizes that the team wins in competitions and random donations. Most of the girls are from poor and unequal families and do not have to pay subscription fees.

In addition to training at the time of time, the club organizes and funds residential sports camps at the school in the summer, provides food such as eggs, bananas and milk and often pays for the treatment of players’ injuries.

Over time, parents ‘fears were confident, but critics sometimes question coaches’ motives. “People say things indirectly like,” Why don’t you train guys? “Says Daji. But he says there are already opportunities for boys and there is a difference when it comes to girls.

“We’re not just their coaches,” Villas adds. “Sometimes we are their parents, we direct them, we discipline them, we help them make the right choice.”

And Mienna knows the potential of this valuable opportunity: “I want to be the best striker and become the captain of the India team in Kabadi,” she says, daring to dream of medals, championships and leaving the life of the ordinary village.