KARACHI: A young woman running a car accessories shop in the DHA Phase-II extension commercial area would stand out obviously. And that is what happened with Neha Ahmed.

An elderly gentleman, out of genuine concern for her, approached Neha one day to ask about her troubles and know if he could be of any help to her. Maybe, she had pressing responsibilities and perhaps with no male figure at home she had to step into a man’s world. But to his surprise, she told him that she was happily married and doing this work because she liked it. She even introduced him to her husband, who ran his shop in some other part of Karachi.

“I am in this line of work because I enjoy it,” Neha says laughing. “I was quite young when I acquired my own car, a 1986 Charade, which I then fixed and decorated according to my taste. It looked like a sports car by the time I was done with it. Later, I also sold it for a very good price. I know a lot about car accessories. You can talk to me about wheel caps, alloy rims, motor oils, car mats, etc, for hours,” she says while chewing gum.

Noticing a motorbike parked outside her shop entrance, she drops everything she is doing, walks outside to move the bike away from her entrance before putting up a chain to prevent anyone else from parking there. “If this were a car, I would have flattened all its tyres. When I say no parking, I mean no parking!” she announces pointing to a board, which says so near the steps.

Neha is also a fashion model. “I could have easily opened a boutique or a beauty parlour as I am familiar with that kind of work as well, but this is what I like so this is what I do,” she says before turning to a customer to explain to him what oil he should put into his car.

If Neha has ideas about where one should park his or her car, you haven’t met Shakila, or ‘Shabbo’, as everyone calls her, outside the Sindh High Court where she handles car and motorcycle parking. There is a cane tapping on your bonnet or car bumper as soon as you enter the narrow lane between the mosque and the patch of green at the SHC’s entrance and exit. “Where do you think you are leaving your car, mister?” she yells at you. “Wait, back up a little. More, a little more, ok. Perfect,” she says before allowing you to get off leaving your car in her custody, as she herself chases off a rickshaw. “Hey you! Not here! Get out of this lane. Find yourself another parking spot,” she screams, before jogging off in her black moccasins in that direction.

“I have been here, doing this work for 13 years now. My husband has been bedridden for as long and I have five children to take care of and a house to run. Some people think I’m with the police, some think I’m with the City Government, but no I represent no one. The little money I make is from what some lawyers pay me. In a day, sometimes I make Rs200, sometimes Rs300.”

Zebunnisa Bibi runs a milk shop in Khuda Ki Basti. “Not just milk and yogurt, I also sell other products such as bread and eggs. Also toffees, chewing gum and chocolate,” says the ageing woman, who says she runs the shop with her son Fareed.

“My son gets tired so I send him home to rest as I am fully capable of running this shop on my own,” says Zebunnisa Bibi. “My son is still a bit weak. Both his kidneys had failed and he recently underwent a transplantation surgery. Luckily, my other son Zafar was a compatible donor,” says the woman while turning her attention to the demands of some noisy children, insisting on red, not green, toffees at one grilled window of her corner shop.

“Look around you; I’m not the only woman running a shop in this neighbourhood. Other women also run small businesses here. Besides, my daughter-in-law at home is very happy to have me out of her hair the entire day.”

Published in Dawn, March 6th, 2016