Stars Aliya Riaz and Sidra Nawaz celebrating. CricInfo360.
The story of women in Pakistan reclaiming public spaces is one of resilience, quiet rebellion, and generational transformation. Nowhere is this more visible than in the rise of Pakistan’s women’s cricket team – a symbol of progress in a country where women have long been denied access to sports and public visibility. Today’s young generation of female athletes may have growing access to cricket fields, gyms, and stadiums, but that access was neither easily granted nor quickly won.
For decades, women in Pakistan faced cultural, institutional, and familial barriers that kept them away from sports. Participation in cricket – a game historically seen as a male domain – was not only rare but often ridiculed – sometimes even by male counterparts, like Shahid Afridi. The idea of a woman running, competing, or even being in the public eye challenged dominant notions of femininity and propriety. When Pakistan’s women’s team played its first international matches in the late 1990s, they faced more than just athletic opponents – they were met with protests, threats, and media mockery. However, segments of the public expressed both pride and encouragement, seeing in the players a form of national representation that challenged stereotypes. Internationally, the reception was far warmer. Global cricketing bodies, foreign journalists, and rival teams often celebrated the courage of Pakistani women cricketers for playing under such restrictive conditions, highlighting them as symbols of resilience. In many ways, international praise helped legitimize the team in the eyes of domestic audiences, gradually softening criticism at home.
Shaiza and Sharmeen Khan, pioneers of women’s cricket in Pakistan, risked public backlash and personal safety to establish a space for women in the sport. Their efforts, often self-funded and carried out with minimal institutional support, laid the foundation for the team’s eventual recognition by the Pakistan Cricket Board and international bodies. These women fought not only for the right to play but also to be seen, heard, and respected. When early players like Shaiza and Sharmeen Khan, and later Sana Mir or Bismah Maroof, were asked whether they anticipated the impact of their participation, many admitted that they were simply pursuing their love of the game. For them, the goal was not to spark a social movement but to create space where none existed. Yet, over time, they recognized that their actions carried weight beyond the boundary ropes. In interviews, Sana Mir often reflected on how she saw her leadership not just as winning matches but as creating opportunities for young girls to dream differently. Bismah Maroof has spoken about balancing motherhood with cricket, framing her journey as proof that women need not choose between family and sport. These players acknowledged the unintentional but undeniable ripple effect of their presence: they were inspiring a new generation, whether or not they initially set out to do so.
As we look at the current generation – where girls like Fatima Sana or Muneeba Ali can train in national academies, appear in advertisements, and receive praise on social media – it’s easy to forget the depth of that struggle. Public parks and cricket grounds that once felt off-limits now see girls practicing openly. But the social memory of exclusion can fade, especially for those born into a world where their presence on the field is no longer questioned.
This generational gap in awareness is not unique to sports. It is a broader cultural phenomenon in movements for gender equality. The young benefit from battles fought before them – for access, legitimacy, and safety – yet are often unaware of the scale of resistance that had to be overcome. In the case of women’s cricket, every ball bowled today is made possible by the battles fought in courtrooms, media forums, family homes, and on the streets by the generation before.
To ensure that progress continues and deepens, it is vital to preserve and share this history. Schools, sports academies, and media platforms must tell the stories of the trailblazers – not to guilt the younger generation, but to inspire responsibility. Understanding the legacy behind their opportunities allows young athletes to not only honor those before them but to push further, widening these spaces for future generations.
Women’s cricket in Pakistan is about more than sport. It is a story of reclaiming space, rewriting norms, and remembering that every open door was once shut – until someone dared to knock it down.
By Sara Zahoor
Sara Zahoor is a current undergraduate student at Trinity College, pursuing a B.A. in Public Policy & Law with a concentration in Policy Analysis. She can be contacted at @ssarazahoor@gmail.com.
Here at Women Living Under Muslim Law, we believe it’s not only important, but vital to acknowledge and share the achievements of women. To claim their equal citizenship, as well as the right to both shape and reshape cultural settings that have historically excluded women, much to the detriment of national and global prosperity.