How a Kabaddi Club in India is Empowering Girls and Changing Lives

A rural community's embrace of sport is breaking traditional barriers for young girls, offering them new opportunities and aspirations.

Meena's focus is intense as her eyes dart across the Kabaddi field, waiting for the perfect moment to make her move. For the 14-year-old from the tribal village of Kudoshi, Kabaddi is more than just a game—it is an escape from the confines of a traditional rural life, offering a chance to dream beyond the limitations of her surroundings.

"I feel different when I play," Meena admits, her voice shy. "In that moment, I am not the Meena who is tied to housework and societal expectations. It's just me and the game. I feel stronger, more powerful than other girls who don't have the same chance."

Located about 230 kilometers from Mumbai, Meena's village is where the lives of young girls often revolve around domestic chores, marriage, and raising children. However, 15 years ago, a group of visionary teachers decided to change this narrative.

"I have a daughter, and I want her to have a life full of opportunities. Why can't girls play Kabaddi and build a career out of it?" said Daji Rajguru, one of the teachers who helped start the initiative. Pooling their savings, the teachers created what is believed to be the first all-girls Kabaddi club in the region, despite initial opposition from families concerned about the impact on their daughters' future prospects, especially marriage.

At first, only two girls signed up. Parents were hesitant, fearing the sport would interfere with domestic duties and tarnish their daughters' marriage prospects. "It was difficult," Daji recalls. "But we went door to door, assuring families that their daughters would be safe and that the training sessions would be supervised."

Over time, the club grew, and now, 30 girls are regularly involved. Since its inception, around 300 girls have trained with the club, some starting as young as seven years old. Meena, like her peers, trains for two hours before school and two hours afterward, often returning home after dark, alone and sometimes fearful of the journey.

Despite her family's continued disapproval, Meena remains determined. "My family still doesn’t support me, but I continue because I believe in what I can achieve," she says.

Meena draws inspiration from former club members like Siddhi Chalke and Samreen Burandkar, who joined the club as young girls and eventually became professional Kabaddi players. Now 25, they are financially independent and continue to play at the highest levels of the sport.

Samreen, who once faced opposition from her family for pursuing Kabaddi, reflects on her journey: "No one in my family earns as much as I do now. I get to live in a big city and make my own choices. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for Kabaddi."

Both Samreen and Siddhi travel across India, competing in tournaments and winning medals. "Without Kabaddi, I would have been married off and ended up washing dishes at my husband's house," Siddhi laughs, a sentiment echoed by many girls who have escaped traditional fates by pursuing sports.

For many, excelling in Kabaddi opens doors to job opportunities, particularly in the public sector, where states reserve positions for high-achieving athletes. This provides a sense of financial security and independence, a rare gift for rural girls who traditionally have limited choices.

Coach Vilas Bendre, who works with the club, explains how the sport has transformed the lives of many of the girls: "When they start out, these girls are often seen as secondary citizens, not given much value. But when they excel, everything about them changes—the way they talk, the way they carry themselves, their lifestyle."

Even if they don’t go on to become professional athletes, many girls in the club have seen their confidence grow, gaining the courage to pursue higher education and delay marriage. The community, once skeptical, is now more accepting of girls participating in sports. "People no longer frown when they see the girls exercising," Vilas notes.

The club operates on a modest budget, funded by the coaches, competition winnings, and occasional donations. Most members come from impoverished families and are not required to pay any fees. The club also organizes summer training camps, provides meals like eggs, bananas, and milk, and often covers the cost of medical treatment for injuries.

Despite occasional criticism about focusing on girls, Daji and his team remain steadfast in their mission. "We are not just their coaches—we are their guides, helping them make the right choices," he says. "In rural India, girls often don't have the same opportunities as boys. Our goal is to bridge that gap."

For Meena, the dream of becoming the best raider and even captaining India's Kabaddi team is more than just a fantasy—it's a vision of a future that breaks away from the conventional life of a village girl. "I want to be the best, win medals, and leave my old life behind," she says, her ambition shining through.

In this small tribal village, a Kabaddi club is not only teaching girls to play—it is changing their lives, empowering them to dream, achieve, and pave the way for future generations.