Hashtags Won't Save You But Self-Defense Will!

This one is just me sitting down with Anita Karim, a professional MMA fighter from Gilgit-Baltistan. We talk about what it really takes to learn self-defense, the noise around women in sports, and why hashtags won’t protect you the way knowing how to throw a punch will.

Anita grew up in a small village where a girl’s future was decided before she could speak: study, marry, repeat. But she had big dreams, even when her teachers laughed at a classmate who wanted to be a painter. She tells me, “I used to say I want to be a doctor, an engineer, something big. I didn’t know what, but I knew I wanted more.” That hunger never left her.

The brothers who stood in front of the fire

Anita’s journey into mixed martial arts started with her brothers. They ran a gym in Islamabad and encouraged her to train. But the support came at a cost. “My brothers heard more than I did,” she says. “People would say, what are you teaching your sister? They took a big risk.” In a society where a woman’s honor is guarded by keeping her indoors, her brothers chose to let her fight. She credits them entirely: “Allah kare sabko aise bhai milein.”

Learning to take a punch

When Anita first started training, she couldn’t sit down for days. Her body was in so much pain she would cry walking down the stairs. Training with men was the hardest part. But she insists it is the only way to truly learn self-defense. “If you only train with girls, you won’t know how to handle a real threat on the street. When you can take a punch from a man, you build real confidence.” She says it plainly: “Mujhe punch khana acha lagta hai, maza aata hai.” Over time, the fear fades and what is left is skill.

The clothes they shamed her for

One of the biggest controversies Anita faced was about her fight attire. She wears shorts and a sports top, standard for MMA. People told her to cover up, to be ashamed. She was stopped before entering the ring. “They said, apne tights thode cover karo. But this is the uniform. You have to show your legs for the kicks to be seen, for points.” She is furious not at the criticism but at the hypocrisy. “When a child is raped, people share the video and make it viral. Share karna solution nahi hai. Self-defense sikhao. That is the solution.” She challenges anyone who shames her to stand in front of her for five minutes.

More than fighting

Anita explains that MMA is not just about hitting. It teaches discipline, respect, time management, and mental strength. She shares a story of a woman who came to their gym. Her brothers had died, her father was ill, and she had to lift him alone. After training, she could carry him easily. Her father told her, “I have no regret that my sons are not here. You have filled their place.” For Anita, this is the real power of the sport. It makes you mentally strong enough to handle whatever life throws at you.

A message for every girl

Anita wants women to be serious about self-defense. Not just for the gram, not just a hobby. “Niyat saaf, manzil aasan,” she says. If your intention is clear, the path becomes easy. She urges parents to start their daughters young, to let them train, to normalize women in combat sports. “The older you get, the harder it is to start. Make it part of schooling.” She is proof that a girl from a small village can stand in an international ring and hold her own.

This conversation matters because it shifts the focus from online outrage to real-world action. For every Desi woman who has been told to stay quiet, to not make a scene, to rely on the men around her for safety, Anita’s story is a reminder that your body can be your own first line of defense. And that is a small thing that changes everything.