BROTHERS ON BIKES
WE JOINED THE BROTHERS ON BIKE SAT THEIR NATIONAL RIDE OUT TO LEARN ABOUT THE PIONEERING SPIRIT OF THE RIDERS BRINGING THE JOY OF CYCLING TO BRITAIN’ S MUSLIM COMMUNITY
The country-wide cycling club bringing the sport’s joys to Britain’s Muslim community.
Imagine being unique. We all are in our own way, of course, but imagine doing something that literally no one else is doing. Are you a pioneer, or an oddball? Are you lonely, or do you relish your individuality? Before the UK cycling explosion of the 2000s it was possible for any of us to see cycling as an act of rebellion, a fight against what our peers were doing, a bid to be different. But what if you had no intention to be different, but started riding only to find out you were simply alone?
Back in 2012 Junaid Ibrahim bought a bike, a choice he made based on simple logic: he’d just started university and according to TfL (Transport for London) his daily commute would be 45 minutes each
way by train and cost him £20. Listed below this suggestion was the option to cycle, and it proposed a 35-minute journey with no cost, apart from the bike. So, Junaid went straight to Halfords and purchased a hybrid, it was a no-brainer. Junaid is also no stranger to CP, being a part of last year’s Team Cycling Plus.
What’s so unusual about that? Well, Junaid is a Muslim and in the UK Muslim community, no one rode a bike. It’s not that the religion frowned upon riding, it just wasn’t the thing to do. The accepted wisdom was that the bike was a second-class form of transport and people should aspire to better, to, of course, drive a car.
We’ve all heard the cries of “Why are you riding a bike, can’t you afford a car?” The perceived superiority of the automobile driver, the belief that there’s some sort of imaginary transportation food chain that puts the car above the bike is as ridiculous as those who perpetrate it.
GO YOUR OWN WAY
Junaid paid no notice of this barrier or peer pressure; his economic and time needs outweighed any preconceived and outdated notions, so he chose to commute by bike. Each day he would ride into London, be surrounded by cyclists, then return to his home in Ilford and be the only one on the road. This continued, day in, day out, until one day, he spotted another Asian rider. This was, to borrow a word from another faith, the Genesis moment, the spark at the start of everything to follow.
Life is built of these occasions, of corners turned, paths crossed, and in meeting Mehboob (Mebz) a union was formed – one rider had become two, and Junaid was no longer alone. Instead of just commuting they began to go for rides and entered sportives, they loved cycling and wanted to find more people in the Muslim community like them: they wanted to form a club.
Their search soon led them to Abu, who Junaid found via Mebz and a WhatsApp group of ‘wannabe’ cyclists. Abu, now a business manager, grew up in Camden and, although a Muslim, was not in the centre of the faith community so found cycling more accessible. He got hooked at an early age, and what started off as hacking about on mountain bikes eventually led to a job working in a branch of Evans Cycles. Like almost everyone in the club we talked to Abu, repeating the now common theme, believed himself to be the only one. “An Asian face never came through the doors of the shop,” he says. “Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine this club would ever exist.”
At the same time, similar connections were starting to be made up in the West Midlands, which was the next key development in the movement, as Jav, a 44-year-old finance director from Birmingham describes. He’d been ploughing his lone furrow around Brum for years. Like Abu he’d found cycling, loved it and been riding out with Cycling UK most weekends and had then hooked up with a group called the Boldmere Bullets, a community-based club in Sutton Coldfield.
While in London to deliver a seminar, Jav spotted Junaid arriving by bike. His eyes lit up, he instantly cornered him and the connection was made: the next piece in the jigsaw was in place. Jav returned shortly after with a few guys he’d met in Birmingham, met up with Junaid and his mates, and all rode a sportive together. Now there was a movement, and the movement needed a name, so after much conversation, Brothers on Bikes (BoB for short) was born.
CYCLE COLLECTIVE
Although his importance in this story can’t be overlooked Junaid, now 24 and a primary school teacher, is keen to point out that he isn’t the leader of Brothers on Bikes – the club has no leader, which is something echoed by all its core members, they are a
“THE ACCEPTED WISDOM WAS THAT THE BIKE WAS A SECOND-CLASS FORM OF TRANSPORT AND PEOPLE SHOULD ASPIRE TO BETTER”
“THE CLUB HAS NO LEADER, WHICH IS SOMETHING ECHOED BY ALL IT'S CORE MEMBERS, THEY ARE A COLLECTIVE”
collective. It’s thanks to these members that BoB is thriving though, as they spread the word, set up WhatsApp groups, Facebook pages and used Strava to find riders across the land.
They took their love for cycling into the Muslim community and began to sell what they’d discovered to a group of people who had never been exposed to it before. The act of stalking is often given bad press but this is exactly what Junaid or ‘Chief Stalker’ as he’s known did, and still does, to very good effect. Searching Strava activities, seeing where potential recruits were riding, looking at their names and avatars (yes, if they had beards) to identify them as a future member, then chasing them down, relentlessly.
Roll on a couple of years and we’re joining close to 60 riders, on a beautiful sunny morning at Toot Hill Village Hall in Essex, most of whom are resplendent in their BoB jerseys, from as far afield as Preston, Birmingham, and Bristol. To
complement the regular weekly local ride outs each year there are now four of these national events to bring everyone together, a collective that’s constantly in touch on social media, to meet up in real life and ride their bikes.
Once everyone was assembled, and after a second breakfast, we’re ready to roll. As with any large group there’s a certain amount of disparity in ability so two routes were devised and groups set off at intervals, to ensure the ‘fast’ boys didn’t get back and finish the waiting lunch before the slower group get in.
Junaid had done a great job of choosing some of the best parts of the area to show off, including a couple of nice hills, like the steep slopes of Ivy Chimneys. This short yet punishing climb came only a few miles into the ride and was a good test of everyone’s legs. Although fitness-wise all the riders in our group were on a par, there was quite a difference when it came to road craft, especially holding a wheel. This is a prime example of why it’s great to be a member of a club, to learn essential skills, and when you’ve learned them, be able to pass your knowledge on to the next member.
FEED THE NEED
We chatted to Omar from Sevenoaks, who’d also been riding for years, and fell for the sport a long while ago, being content with his place as the only Asian cyclist in town. He’d ridden the slopes of Ventoux, battered the cobbles of Flanders, and seen it all, apart from anyone else like him. Until, that is, Junaid tracked him down.
Until now Omar had had no problem standing out at his local club, and you may ask why there’s a need for a Muslim club when there is no shortage of cycling clubs nowadays. But put yourself in Junaid, or any other member’s place. In this era of globalisation, cycling is still almost entirely dominated by white western males. Yes, there are bike races all around the world but it’s not exactly an ethnically diverse sport. It’s human nature to want to belong and be with like-minded people, to have things in common, so there was a need for BoB and because of that, the group has flourished.
Social reasons aside, Omar raised a far more serious issue, that of health. Although BoB has already been successful in starting the Muslim cycling craze it could also now be a very real factor in improving the cardiovascular health of the community, one that’s statistically more prone to heart attacks than just about any other.
“Asian men all die of heart attacks,” Omar told us. “That’s just the way it is, we just don’t live long,” part joking, but part deadly serious. “There’s very little physical activity promoted outside of cricket and football, and, let’s face it, cricket isn’t the most athletic of sports.”
With the birth of BoB, this could all be about to change. That’s not to suggest everyone will take to Lycra and sportives, but to get people on bikes and get them at least commuting on two wheels could herald a significant change. If the barriers BoB is breaking down help save lives then this will be its true legacy: promoting a healthy lifestyle, getting people out into the countryside and even helping solve the ever-growing urban transport problem.
From the chance encounter of a couple of guys commuting into London, BoB has grown to boast close to 350 members in its Strava club, and has won recognition from the London Cycling Campaign for the best community project of the year. It has brought together riders from across Britain to create a community within a community that never existed before, a community that shares the bonds we all have, of freedom, speed and adventure – of cycling. Have you persuaded someone to get on a bike, or have you been convinced to get on two wheels by a friend or family member? Send your story and pictures to
“THIS SHORT BUT PUNISHING CLIMB CAME ONLY A FEW MILES INTO THE RIDE AND WAS A GOOD TEST OF EVERYONE’S LEGS”