Over the years, hip hop has thrived in Pakistan despite lack of mainstream exposure, platforms and opportunities. Dancers, beatboxers, rappers, street artists have scratched and clawed and made opportunities for themselves, capturing the true essence of what hip hop is.
From independent jam sessions to prominent live shows such as Our Culture and utilizing social media to release their work, everyone has kept the culture alive.
Yet, one notices a dearth of women in hip hop in Pakistan.
Once you get into the community, you realize it’s not that women aren’t practicing hip hop, be it in the form of rap or graffiti or dance. It’s only that we aren’t aware of them due to the niche they operate in. And then most of them rarely perform publicly.
Regardless, even with the limited platforms, these women are pushing the boundaries and inspiring others to do the same. Red Bull spoke with two female hip hop dancers, Reham Rafiq and Sarah Babar, who shared how hip-hop culture became a central part of their identity and what it means to practice it in Pakistan.
“It’s a little annoying when all everyone sees is my gender, says Babar. “They all say ‘oh, you’re a female dancer’. No, I’m a dancer who happens to be a woman. Nobody refers to other dancers as a ‘male dancer’.”
Mentioning gender almost takes the focus away from the art that an artist has practiced for years. Babar agrees that even if she weren’t a woman, she would probably still be a dancer. Her interest in the performance art began early on. She grew up grooving to Bollywood music and dancing at family weddings and events as a kid.
Dancing just makes me happy. I could be extremely stressed but if I start dancing, I forget all about it.
Her first public performance happened a few months ago at Our Culture Vol. 4, a live hip hop show organized by Anarchy.
In the dance battle at the show, she competed against some of the best the local hip hop community has to offer. If you were there, you couldn’t tell it was Babar’s first public performance.
Not only did she ooze confidence and swag, but she also won over the live crowd within the first minute.
The 21-year-old doesn’t care if she’s competing against guys. For her, it’s all about the performance. “Yeah, I was conscious of this fact in the beginning. And people love to remind you of it. But it doesn’t matter to me if I’m the only female in the show. It’s all about the dance.”
In a society where dancing is not considered part of the culture (despite its rampant popularity and its integration into every aspect of our lives), pursuing it as a profession or even a hobby is difficult, especially for women. Yet Babar and Rafiq and many more like them continue to practice this art.
Babar recalls one of the best experiences she had was when a young girl came to her after the performance at Our Culture and she was wide-eyed and thanked her for inspiring her to pursue dancing.
For Rafiq, the struggles, as well as the motivations, are similar. The 24-year-old self-taught dancer, who honed and continues to polish her craft by watching the likes of Dytto and Bailey Sok, created her own fan base on Tik Tok and Instagram with her short videos.
Since then, she has performed in videos with Asim Azhar, Naqi Nix, in musical plays and as a background dancer in films (Heer Maan Ja, Wrong No. 2) as well as local award shows.
Since starting out professionally around 2015 and 2016, Rafiq has become quite a recognizable name in the local industry. Besides dance, she has also delved in singing and acting. But she mainly considers herself a dancer. “I’ll always be a dancer first,” she says.
Rafiq also recognizes the issues that practicing dance in Pakistan presents. She says it’s difficult to shoot in public places. “Being a female dancer, it’s risky to perform while you’re shooting a video in public. And studios are only a few in number. But with time, it has gotten better and we manage to pull it off. Yet, being a female dancer means not all of us are allowed to go out and perform.”
Both Babar and Rafiq echoed that a lot of brilliant dancers they knew were not in the public eye due to the aforementioned reasons. However, they consider it their duty to represent women in hip hop and inspire and encourage others to follow suit and pursue their passions.
On representation being considered a responsibility, Babar believes an artist naturally performs for oneself and is more than merely a representative of a group or a label.
I feel representation becomes a responsibility once you’re successful. It becomes your duty to pull up other people with you and inspire and encourage them.
"If I am successful enough one day, I would do the same.” Babar added.
The two are hopeful of the future of hip hop in Pakistan. As the culture grows and slowly gains mainstream traction, it’s bound to go through a boom.
With the rise of urban and performance arts in metropolises, the awareness among the population seems to be growing as well. All it needs is to carry the momentum and there may not be a ceiling to touch for hip hop, glass or otherwise.