Denied Dreams: The Judo Stars of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa

 

Musarrat Ullah Jan , KikNow , Digital Creator

In the rugged hills of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, where young athletes train relentlessly on worn mats under the watchful eyes of dedicated coaches, four promising judo players had reason to celebrate. Abdul Rahman, Huzaifa, Faisal, and Awais had shone brightly in the prestigious Quaid-e-Azam Games and the Under-22 Games, representing their province with skill and determination. Their throws were precise, their grips unbreakable, and their performances earned them medals—and, more importantly, the promise of scholarships from the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Sports Directorate.

These scholarships were meant to be a lifeline. For boys from modest backgrounds, juggling rigorous training with limited resources, the financial support would cover equipment, travel to tournaments, and perhaps even some educational expenses. "We play for the national flag, despite having so little," Abdul Rahman often said to his teammates during late-night practice sessions. "This scholarship is our reward, our motivation to keep going."

Months passed after the games. The announcements came with fanfare: outstanding athletes from provincial and national events would receive aid under a formal policy. The four judoka waited eagerly, checking their phones for updates, visiting the Directorate office in Peshawar whenever they could afford the bus fare.

But the money never arrived.

When they inquired, officials at the Sports Directorate shrugged and pointed fingers elsewhere. "The delay is because NADRA verification isn't complete," they claimed. NADRA—the National Database and Registration Authority—handles identity checks essential for any government disbursement to prevent fraud.

Frustrated, the players contacted NADRA directly. To their relief, officials there confirmed: the verifications had been processed and sent back weeks ago.

Caught in this bureaucratic ping-pong, Abdul Rahman, Huzaifa, Faisal, and Awais found themselves running from one government office to another. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. While their peers in other sports received their dues promptly, these judo stars were left empty-handed.

"It's like they're passing the blame to avoid responsibility," Huzaifa confided to a local journalist one afternoon, sweat still drying on his gi after training. "We sacrifice everything—time with family, studies, even proper meals—just to excel. And now, instead of encouragement, we're forced to beg for what's rightfully ours."

Sources close to the Directorate whispered about administrative inefficiencies: poor coordination between departments, lost paperwork, and a lack of follow-up. The policy was sound on paper, but implementation had faltered, raising questions about the entire sports support system in the province.

Sports enthusiasts and former athletes rallied behind the four young men. "This needs immediate investigation," demanded a prominent coach in Peshawar. "Identify the responsible officers, hold them accountable, and release the funds without further delay. Such indifference doesn't just break the spirits of these players—it damages the reputation of sports in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa."

As winter set in, the four judoka continued training, their resolve unbroken despite the disappointment. They dreamed of bigger arenas, perhaps even international competitions. But deep down, a quiet anger simmered. How many more talents would be lost to this cycle of promises unkept and dreams deferred?

In the end, their story wasn't just about delayed scholarships. It was a reminder that true support for athletes goes beyond announcements—it demands action, accountability, and respect for those who raise the province's flag high.

#KPSportsDirectorate #AthleteScholarship #JudoPlayers #SportsMismanagement #JusticeForAthletes #QuaidAzamGames #Under22Games