Lacuna Voices

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Women 1. Prejudice 0.

Three sporting gaps in the community. Three determined women. Three very inspiring solutions…

Exclusive | 5 min read 

When Katee Hui moved from Canada to the UK, she was shocked to find no opportunities for female footballers in her new local community.

Londoner Khadijah Safari couldn’t find a female-only martial arts class where she could remove her hijab.

Hearing-impaired Wendy Russell wanted more inclusive hockey in Brighton.

Now, in their own words, these fearless women explain why they didn’t let gender, religion or disability exclude them from sport.


‘I’m not asking for anything unreasonable. I just want to play a sport I love’

Katee Hui, 35, Strategy Director and founder of Hackney Laces, London

I came to the UK in 2007 to study environmental science at London School of Economics and joined their female football team. But after graduation, I couldn’t find another female club to join.

I wanted to coach too, but no club was willing to take me, despite my having all the qualifications. I kept being told there was ‘no female set-up’. I was happy to coach boys, but the answer was still no.

It was frustrating. After all, I wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable - I was just trying to play a sport I love. Surely, football should be for everyone?

Determined not to give up, I wrote to every London football club. I received only one reply from Michael McNeill, who ran the Islington Football Development partnership.

I was invited for a practice session and Michael saw potential. He gave me a position coaching boys aged 8-12 on Saturday mornings.

I still came up against resistance from dads who seemingly didn't want their sons being coached by a woman. But it was easy for me to change their perception - they only had to see me on the ball.

But the pressure was always there. Every time I kicked the ball, I worried that all women were being judged based on my performance.

Often, as I walked home in my kit, girls would approach me to ask where they could play football too.

The answer was nowhere.

There wasn’t a space for girls to play football due to systemic barriers. I kept being told by the people who had a space to play that there was no demand for female football clubs, whilst I was simultaneously approached by lots of girls desperate to play.

Eventually I thought, ‘Fuck it. I’m going to make this happen myself.’ I set up on a patch of grass outside my house.

In the first session just a 14-year-old girl, Chloe, and her mate turned up. Next time, Chloe brought her cousin. Soon, we had 25 girls aged 13-18 every Thursday evening.

After successfully applying to UnLtd, which supports social entrepreneurs, I secured funding and set up Hackney Laces as a pilot project to test for demand. I was inundated with enthusiastic and talented young female players.

It went from strength to strength, and I formally founded Hackney Laces Community Club in 2011. Since then, the club has continued to grow and now runs as a social franchise across three London boroughs.

What started out as just me and my cause has become something so much bigger. We’ve come so very far, but even now, every time I see a new girl, with boots over her shoulder, signing the registration form, I feel such immense pride.

  • To join, or for information on franchising, visit Hackney Laces.


‘Muslim women took off their hijabs and it became something beautiful’

Khadijah Safari, 38, CEO, instructor and trainer, Milton Keynes and London

Even as a young girl, I knew I wanted to run my own business one day. I loved learning new things, so whilst studying graphic design at uni, I joined a martial arts club and fell in love with the way the sport used every muscle in my body.

My participation waxed and waned until seven years later, aged 26, I needed a way to let off steam from the pressures of running my own graphic design business. I picked up martial arts again and began training every day for three hours.

My husband was also Muslim and a year later, I decided to start wearing a hijab. It was a personal choice and it didn’t disrupt my life except in one place - training. I found it uncomfortable and I didn’t want to wear extra clothes whilst working out.

But I couldn’t find a martial arts class for women only, where I could take my hijab off comfortably.

Not to be defeated, I hired a basement in Fulham and began my own women-only classes where we could wear whatever we wanted.

The demand was high. Police officers, journalists, domestic violence survivors, women tackling weight issues - the very diverse list went on. One woman in my class travelled two and a half hours each way to get to the session.

Muslim women took off their hijabs and it became something beautiful, with all different cultures taking part and becoming a community. It gave women with all backgrounds and abilities a place they could feel equal, develop their self-belief, boost their physical strength and - most importantly to me - be themselves.

My classes and training programmes became such a success, I quit my job as a graphic designer and set up London’s first women-only martial arts club, Safari Kickboxing.

But I wasn’t content to stop there.

Martial arts is very male-dominated and I wanted to see more diversity in the sport. I quickly realised not only that a lot of women needed what I was offering, but they needed it outside my local area, too.

So I developed instructor training courses to help women start their own groups. It felt great to give women the opportunity to make something they loved into a career as well.

My programme has gone from strength to strength and I’ve trained more than 1,000 women so far. It’s a great step forward for equality in sports.


‘We should be part of the conversation, the training, the planning’

Wendy Russell, 43, PE teacher, Brighton

I fell in love with playing hockey at 11, but within two years I was being told by medical experts I should give it up because of arthritis in my hips. I refused.

I strongly believed there shouldn’t be barriers to sport and I went on to study physical education at the University of Brighton, before becoming a PE teacher in Crawley, Sussex.

At 26, I began having hearing problems, and tests confirmed I had developed tinnitus in my left ear, and hearing loss in both.

The echo in sports halls made it difficult for me to hear what people were saying and I had to adapt my teaching style, often taking lessons outdoors where it was easier for me to hear.

It’s a shame how little awareness there is for people with disabilities who want to become coaches. There are 12 million people with a hearing impairment in the UK - that’s around one in six of us - so we should be part of the conversation, the training, and the planning of teaching courses.

As a teacher, I started to become more conscious of how schools perceive children with hearing problems. I challenged the policy of placing students with hearing difficulties at the front of the class, telling teachers if they walked around the classroom, those with hearing impairments wouldn’t have to be singled out to sit up front.

But the pivotal moment in my journey came when I started coaching two sisters in 2005, whose parents were both deaf. The girls’ mother played hockey for a regular team and had adapted, despite the lack of disability inclusion.

It got me thinking about sport provisions for deaf people and my research found there were cricket and football teams available for a young deaf person in my local Sussex community - but no hockey teams.

I secured funding from Active Sussex for an 11-week project of hockey sessions for anyone with hearing impairment. The sessions went well, as did the new language signs for 40 hockey-related terms such as stick, tackle, and block tackle that I created.

I also set up Brighton and Hove Hockey Hot Start for 9-11 year-old, beginning nervously with a taster session, unsure if there would be interest. But it was a huge success. It’s averaged 20 young people a week for the last three years.

Many teenagers find it difficult to join a group if they don't know anyone and having a hearing impairment can make communication difficult, leaving them socially isolated.

But I say: be bold. Go along, and take someone with you if that gives you the boost you need.

You’ll be welcomed with open arms, and within minutes you’ll wonder why you were ever scared in the first place.


Katee, Khadijah and Wendy all feature on the inaugural Lucozade Sport Movers list that recognises and celebrates the unsung heroes inspiring others to move.


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