Players Score Dignity in India’s First Transgender Football League

Pyari Hessa (#07) in action for Jamshedpur FT. Credit: Jamshedpur FC

By Diwash Gahatraj
DELHI, Feb 20 2026 (IPS)

Pyari Hessa, 26, balances long shifts as a loco traffic controller at a steel company in Jamshedpur with evening football practice on the same turf where professionals train.

A trans woman from the Ho tribal community, she was born Pyare Lal in Bedamundui, a remote village 50 kilometres away from Chaibasa, the headquarters town of the West Singhbhum district in Jharkhand. For years, she fought against family expectations and societal norms for the right to live authentically and to be seen simply as a person.

Today, as captain and striker for Jamshedpur FT( Football Team) in India’s first-ever football tournament dedicated to transgender women, the Transgender Football League, her fight for acceptance finds powerful expression on the pitch.

Launched on December 7, 2025, under the Jamshedpur Super League (JSL) by Jamshedpur Football Club (FC), this groundbreaking eight-team tournament brings together around 70 transgender women, many hailing from Santhal, Ho, and other local tribal communities. Hosted at the JRD Tata Sports Complex’s artificial football turf, the league features a fast-paced seven-a-side format.

The players come from different walks of life; some are factory workers, daily wage labourers, stage performers, e-rickshaw drivers, and more, from areas like Chaibasa, Chakradharpur, Noamundi, Saraikela, and beyond, competing not only for goals but also for visibility, dignity, and a true sense of belonging. In this space, they are celebrated for their skill, passion, and teamwork, transcending societal barriers and redefining inclusion through sport.

Kundan Chandra, head of Grassroots and Youth Football at Jamshedpur FC, explains the club’s thinking.

“The introduction of the Transgender Football League marks a progressive and meaningful step in our commitment to making football inclusive, accessible, and empowering for every individual. As a club we firmly believe that football must serve as a platform where talent is nurtured without discrimination.”

For players like Pyari Hessa, that belief is no longer just words. “When I’m playing football, it gives me immense happiness and gives me recognition. The game gives me a chance to rise above my gender identity. It gives me a platform,” Pyari says.

Life wasn’t easy for her, neither at home nor in her search for stable employment.

A Bachelor of Arts graduate, she lost her father at a young age and now lives with her mother in Jamshedpur, far from her ancestral tribal village. Before securing a job, she took on odd jobs as a daily wage worker to make ends meet. Eventually, she found employment in the logistics department of one of India’s leading steel manufacturers under their targeted hiring for under-represented groups.

Her tribal identity profoundly shapes her life, but as a trans woman, she faces additional layers of hardship. Traditional tribal communities in Jharkhand, rooted in customs, nature worship, and social norms, often do not accept transgender individuals with the respect they deserve, leading to exclusion, stigma, and limited family or community support.

Jharkhand is home to over 30 indigenous tribes. The culture and social position of transgender people within the tribal (Adivasi) communities here are complex and generally marked by limited traditional recognition or acceptance.

Journey From Village to Pitch

“I started playing football at ten, just like any other boy in my village. We’d kick around plastic balls on the village ground, purely for fun, nothing more,” Pyari says. “When I was in college, I met people from the trans community who played in charity and exhibition matches around Chaibasa. That’s when I realised football wasn’t just a game for me anymore—it gave me a reason to keep going and grow.”

“In those local matches, the winning trans team would get cash and be honoured. Before every game, the organisers would announce to the crowd: ‘Don’t pass gender comments, don’t disturb the players—give them the respect they deserve.’ Hearing that it felt like a small victory.”

Pyari shares these memories with a quiet pride. After winning her match on 25 January, her team triumphed 4-1 against Chaibasa FC.

According to coach Sukhlal Bhumij, who trains Pyari and the other team members, “Trans matches are being played between eight teams, and it happens every alternate Sunday and should be over by April.”

Love for the Game

Football enjoys a passionate and deeply rooted following in Jharkhand, especially among its tribal communities. In rural villages, children play barefoot on open grounds from a young age, making it a daily part of life and culture. While cricket remains popular, football thrives at the grassroots level through local tournaments and has gained further momentum with Jamshedpur FC in the Indian Super League, where fan groups proudly celebrate tribal identity, explains Bhumij, an All India Football Federation (AIFF) C-License coach.

The sport also empowers many, particularly tribal girls and transgender players, transforming village fields into powerful spaces of pride, inclusion, and social change.

In districts like West Singhbhum, informal transgender exhibitions and charity matches have long been organised by village committees and community groups, often as one-off events, charity fundraisers, or parts of local tournaments to promote visibility and respect.

Puja Soy, one of the league’s highest scorers with seven goals from six matches, says football is finally bringing her community real recognition. The 23-year-old Jamshedpur FT standout, a professional stage dancer who completed her Class 10 education, now lives independently in Jamshedpur. Born as Shoray Soy, she moved away from her parents in DiriGoda village for her higher education and better life.

Sharing the harsh realities she faces off the pitch, Puja says, “No flat owners want to rent houses to people from our community.” Finding even this place was a struggle.” She currently shares a single-room home with another trans woman in Jamshedpur.

Jharkhand aligns its policies for transgender persons with India’s Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Act, 2019, allowing individuals to self-identify as the third gender and obtain a Certificate of Identity without mandatory medical proof. Key benefits include inclusion in the OBC category for reservations in education and government jobs, a monthly social security pension of ₹1,000 (about USD 10), dedicated transgender OPDs in government hospitals for discrimination-free care, and access to schemes such as Ayushman Bharat health insurance, scholarships, skill development programmes, and shelter support. The state has also established a Transgender Welfare Board and support unit to facilitate implementation.

However, community members say the reality on the ground differs sharply from what’s written on paper. Despite these provisions, transgender women frequently miss out on job opportunities. To survive, many resort to begging at traffic lights or highway toll points, while others turn to sex work. One player in the league, speaking on condition of anonymity, shared that she plays football during her leisure time but, lacking employment, often stands at highway toll booths or traffic signals to beg from passersby.

Begging by transgender persons has become a common sight on Indian streets and in markets—so normalised that society has largely accepted it as inevitable, even as progressive policies promise a different future.

Freedom on the Field

Back at the practice grounds of the JRD Tata Sports Complex, Pyari is ready for the evening session. Cleats laced up, ball at her feet, she looks focused.

“I can’t come for practice every day because of my shift work,” she says with a small smile. “But whenever my shift ends in the late afternoon, I make sure to come here. This is where I feel free.”

As Pyari starts dribbling, moving the ball smoothly across the turf, it feels like more than just football. With every touch and turn, she’s juggling her job, her life as a trans woman, her tribal roots, and her dreams, all in perfect rhythm, just like the way she controls the ball. In this field, everything seems to fit.

IPS UN Bureau Report