Freedom On Two Wheels

Zeenath M. A. still remembers the tremble in her knees when she gripped the handlebars of a cycle for the very first time. It was January 2022, and at 43, she was battling arthritis, anxiety, and the invisible weight of decades spent in the service of others.

A divorcee, a caregiver, a working woman on the edge of an emotional burnout, she had taken leave from her job because, in her words, “I didn’t even know how to respond anymore. The words wouldn’t come.” She wasn’t seeking fitness. She wasn’t seeking a sport. She just wanted to feel something again.

What she found instead was transformation. “The first time I rode alone, something inside me shifted. I had always depended on others to go places. Suddenly, I was moving forward by myself. It felt like magic,” says Zeenath.

In a small corner of Mattancherry, Kochi—a dense cultural mosaic of over 42 communities, many steeped in conservative tradition—Zeenath found herself part of something much larger than she had imagined.

That “something” would go on to become SheCycling, a rapidly growing movement of women learning to ride, teaching others, and reclaiming space in the public and private realms of their lives. And it all started with a single, borrowed cycle.

The Story On The Streets

Mattancherry is not the kind of place one imagines revolutions. Tucked into Kochi’s coastline, it’s a neighbourhood of spice warehouses, temples and mosques, and alleyways where time seems to move slowly.

But in the early mornings now, those alleys come alive with something different: women riding bicycles. Some wear burqas. Others ride in churidaars. Take for instance Rehra—a 53-year-old mother of three—who has started wearing jeans for the first time in decades. “My children never let me wear jeans,” Rehra laughs. “But after seeing me on the cycle, they said I looked beautiful, and now suggest me to wear it more often. Even they’ve changed.”

Before she learnt to ride, Rehra, a door-to-door saleswoman, was spending much of her daily income on rickshaws. She never went out alone at night. Now, she cycles not only for errands, but also for joy.

“Sometimes I go out just to sing and ride in the moonlight,” she says. “The cycle is like a horse to me.”

A Movement Takes Shape

SheCycling started informally, with a handful of women, hesitant and unsure, arriving at the beachside roads of Fort

Kochi. Most of them were from conservative Muslim households, many had never been on a bicycle, and nearly all had internalised the belief that cycling was not for them.

But within a week—sometimes two—they were riding confidently. The burqas gave way to churidaars. The fear gave way to freedom.

Zeenath became a trainer soon after she learned. She has since trained 321 women herself. In just eight months, over 687 women have been taught to ride through the SheCycling initiative. The average age? Between 45 and 65. The oldest learner? 75 years old.

“They came with broken hearts, low confidence and years of silence,” Zeenath says. “But when they finish that first lap on their own, something returns to their eyes. That’s what keeps me going.”

For many, learning to cycle became the first autonomous decision they had made in decades.

More Than Fitness: It’s Freedom

It would be easy to classify SheCycling as a health initiative. But that would be missing the point.

This isn’t about calories. It’s about control. It’s about women, who once needed permission to step outside, now leading night rides under the stars. It’s about single mothers like Rehra, or homemakers like Roopa Harish, who had never owned a cycle as a child.

“At 48, I joined SheCycling,” says Roopa. “I was low on confidence. I thought it was too late for me. But they encouraged me. And in just five days, I was cycling on my own. I’m living my childhood dream.”

This transformation is happening not only on the streets, but also in homes. Families are witnessing change, children are seeing mothers become stronger, and partners are discovering new equals.

Enter: The NaMo Fit India Cycling Club

The SheCycling movement found its national amplifier in the NaMo Fit India Cycling Club, an umbrella of cycling enthusiasts, under the Fit India Movement launched by the Government of India. The club, which promotes community cycling events across the country, gave SheCycling a bigger platform—and a stronger sense of legitimacy.

Every Sunday, across Kerala, women now ride under the banner of “Sundays on Cycle,” a campaign by Fit India Movement to promote cycling as a means of regular commute, and fitness. In Kochi and Thiruvananthapuram, these are not just morning workouts. They are acts of reclamation.

“We cycle to villages, to government schools, sometimes we stop to give talks on health, self-defense, or girls' education,” Zeenath explains. “This isn’t just about riding a bicycle. This is about moving a community forward.”

Prakash P. Gopinath, the Bicycle Mayor of Trivandrum and founder of the Indus Cycling Embassy, has been a foundational force behind the movement. “It’s not about sport. It’s about space. When women cycle, they reclaim public space. They become visible. They set new norms.”

His words are visible in action. SheCycling women don’t just ride. They mentor. They teach others. They build leadership. They lead beach clean-ups, seed dispersals, and plant butterfly gardens. One recent ride to Veli Beach was in collaboration with the World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF) for World Ocean Day.

The Night They Rode The Rain

One of the most symbolic moments came on June 14, during the Freedom Night Ride in Fort Kochi. The rain came down. And yet, 98 women rode through the night, some for the very first time after dark. For a lot of women, it was the first time they switched from churidars to jeans―paving the way for a revolution bigger than just fitness.

“We danced. We laughed. We rode in the rain,” says Rehra. “We weren’t afraid anymore. People stared at us, but we didn’t care.”

It was a reminder that this revolution isn’t just physical—it’s deeply psychological. It’s about unlearning fear. And doing it together. Already, women from Kochi are traveling to nearby districts; staying for a week at a time to train others. Entire communities are changing—one ride at a time.

Two Wheels: Infinite Possibilities

Back in Mattancherry, Zeenath still cycles every morning. But now, she rides with others—dozens of them. Some are grandmothers. Some are teenagers. Some, like her, are discovering their voice after years of silence.

And the streets of Kerala, once quiet and closed, are humming with the sound of movement.

Because when a woman learns to ride, she takes an entire village forward.

The writer is a consultant who likes to write about health