Nicknames and Taking Action Anonymous

On my fourth grade Sports Day, my father proudly embraced me and called me his ‘Sherni’ - or ‘Lioness’ - when I finally outran a girl twice my size. I had been coming in second to her for years. It became my parents’ nickname for me, encompassing the attributes that serve as either a source of frustration for them, or a source or pride. Or both.

The stubbornness and perseverance that they value immensely can, on occasion, be a thorn in their side. Much like my refusal to take ‘no’ for an answer when asking for driving lessons despite their concerns for my safety on the tumultuous streets of Karachi. Whilst my parents could usually be swayed by my stubborn nature, this city was impervious to it. There were certain, seemingly insignificant, limitations that could not be obliterated: be it cycling on the roads, eating at a roadside cafe or even going to the cinema past sunset. But where it restricted me, it also taught me patience and instilled in me an optimistic drive to contribute towards a future where safety is not a luxury. Though my parents saw the streets as a death trap, I saw a chasm of neglect. It presented itself in the form of annual floods during monsoon season, the bare live wires, and the children in tattered...