As a new year begins and we contemplate our goals, big and small, we look to three inspiring and game changing women featured in recent issues of MOJEH, like mountaineer and Everest conquerer Raha Moharrak. An adventurer and sportswoman who has broken down boundaries in more ways than one, we sat down with Raha to find out what drives her, why she was determined to scale Everest and what's next.
By Natalie Trevis
Tossing back her thick mane of dark curls, Moharrak recalls the deluge of messages that bombarded her phone for days and nights after conquering the heights of Mount Everest in 2013 as the first Saudi woman and youngest Arab to do so. Those messages represented the transformation of her incredible personal feat into an act of empowerment, much bigger than her alone. “I’m a very private person and didn’t intend to become this public figure,” she says, “but it’s such an honour to have this chance to change what I always hated about our society. There is this stigma with women and sports and I have the chance to change it slightly.”
Summit success focused a spotlight upon Moharrak in a way she simply couldn’t control, but she has learnt to brush off the negativity that inevitably accompanies the plaudits. Her philosophical attitude comes from the knowledge that she is a Saudi woman doing what some men can only dream of. “These people that don’t like me know that there is a Saudi woman, who stood on top of the world – they can’t deny me that. The fact that they are giving me negative feedback shows that they are thinking about me, which is a compliment. It’s sad that people can’t see beyond the limits they put on themselves: ‘She’s a Saudi woman on her own, not doing what’s expected of her.’ I climbed Everest! Forget that I was on my own. Forget that I’m a Saudi woman. I’m a person who climbed Mount Everest.”
Climbing 14 mountains in two-and-a-half years, eight before the Everest summit, Moharrak was always focused on her goal, always seeking a life less ordinary. “I was very sporty as a child, to say the least,” she reflects. “According to my dad, I have no fear switch, which is not true. I’m like any person: I have my fears, but what makes me different to most people is that fear challenges me. When I am afraid of something I want to do it. I want to push myself. It doesn’t mean that I am not afraid. But I still do it anyway.” With an insatiable curiosity and an appetite for seizing life with both hands, Moharrak’s parents might have predicted a sense of adventure would pervade their daughter’s life. Of course, from the vantage point of a conservative Saudi culture, that didn’t stop them from having reservations. “In the beginning, my father was completely freaking out, to say the least. He said I was crazy: ‘Why do you want to do this to yourself?’” she recalls. “But my parents saw my pure and utter dedication to climbing. Training every day, the way I ate, the way I missed weddings, the way I was in pain; I was really pushing myself. They saw that determination and that’s what made them change their minds. They saw that I was serious about this.”
Moharrak, a beacon of hope for generations of girls harbouring sporting aspirations, is now in a position to offer some wise advice. And, surprisingly, the message is not one of rebellion. “I always say that your parents are the key keepers of your dreams – start by telling them what your dreams are. We come from a culture that does not allow you to progress in life unless you have the backing of your family. It is the reality. Don’t fight it. Find a way around it. My advice is to be persistent, be smarter.”
While Moharrak could not promise her parents she would return from Everest - that was in the hands of fate, with avalanches, storms and treacherous terrain to navigate (we met Raha in the week that the chilling Baltasar Kormákur- directed disaster movie, Everest, was released) – she vowed she would not push herself beyond her limits. Her father guaranteed her a second chance at the summit if unsuccessful, to ensure she kept her word. “I told myself, climb it, take one day at a time. Do not take a single step forward if you can’t guarantee one back.
Did I ever want to give up? No. There were days when I woke up thinking, ‘What am I doing here? I’m tired, I’m stinky, I’m hungry.’ But, every single time I felt a little bit down, I reminded myself that I’m climbing this mountain. How lucky am I? How am I sitting here complaining about being a little bit stinky, hungry and cold, when there are women who don’t even get a chance to leave their houses or to ride a bike or to do something as simple as following their dreams?” And, it was that very attitude that took Moharrak to the top. “I was looking around not believing I was up there. It was absolutely surreal. I stood there, planted the flag, said a little thank you prayer and ran down. I did not want to stay longer than I should, because in my mind I was thinking that most people, who die on Everest, die on the way down. It was never an ego thing for me. Never. It was a very personal belief and aspiration that led me to do it.”
After a near deadly experience on Mount McKinley in Alaska last year, where she was trapped at altitude for a week by an avalanche (“I haven’t been up at high altitude since, but I’ll never say never”), Moharrak’s mountaineering is currently on hold. The interlude has allowed her to focus on other escapades with her inimitable enthusiasm, including a madcap cycling adventure in The Register’s Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa, with a group of female Muslim athletes, Team Shirzanan (which translates as ‘heroines’). With the aim of promoting women in sports, the cause struck a chord with Moharrak: The only problem being that she had never ridden a bike. “Up until recently, Saudi didn’t allow women to ride bicycles. So, when Mara Gubuan [co-founder of Shirzanan Global Edition] asked me to take part in this great project, I couldn’t say no. I was a bit arrogant: I can climb Everest, I can ride a bicycle! Wrong. I spent less than an hour on an actual bike before I travelled to Iowa and rode 500 miles.” In a display of perseverance that rivals any mountain climb, Moharrak completed the ride in spite of crippling saddle soreness. “I was so honoured to be there with people like me who go against the grain, who break the mould. We had shirts and everyone was stopping us and talking to us. We were a group of Saudi, Pakistani, Iranian, Afghani, Jordanian and Egyptian women, all elite athletes riding for the rights of women in sports. That’s beautiful and I am very proud of it.”
Moharrak will always be the girl that found a way to live her dream, the girl who climbed Everest with passion, conviction and belief. She plans to tell her story in a memoir of her journey so far. “My father told me something. He said, ‘Raha, you have to write this book. It’s not for you. You changed my mind, you made me your biggest supporter, maybe it will change another father’s mind.’ It’s not just about climbing a mountain,” she emphasises, “maybe it’s about choosing who you want to marry.” After the physical and emotional fallout of adventures, both on and off the world’s highest and deadliest peaks, the challenges, the opposition and the ultimate summit, for Raha Moharrak, perhaps opening a future father’s mind will be the real legacy of climbing Everest.
