Pretending to be sick so you can play sports in Afghanistan

KabulIt has never been common for women in Afghanistan to go to the gym. In some remote parts of the country, women don't even know what a gym is. For them, being active means working in the fields, carrying water, or spending hours on end doing unpaid work at home. Before the Taliban returned to power, however, there were women-only gyms in some large cities, such as Kabul, Herat, and Mazar-e Sharif. They were spaces to exercise, connect with others, breathe freely, and take care of one's body. In fact, I used to go to the gym in Kabul. I practiced kung fu. Many other girls my age also exercised after university classes. I looked forward to it. As women, we couldn't exercise freely in parks or public spaces, but the gym was a safe place. But when the Taliban returned, the women's gyms, like so many other places, were completely shut down.

Although I had already stopped going to the gym due to the pandemic, the fact that the Taliban closed all women's gyms in 2021 and eliminated women from the Afghan sports scene was a devastating blow. I felt like a prisoner who, instead of receiving a reduced sentence, had been transferred to solitary confinement.

Today, going to the gym in Afghanistan is not only prohibited for women, but dangerous. Under the Taliban regime, women who exercise can be considered criminals. In fact, there are no openly operating gyms for women. However, even exercising in secret or training other women in private homes risks arrest. This is what happened weeks ago to Khadija Ahmadzadeh, a taekwondo instructor. She was arrested in the city of Herat precisely for secretly training other girls. A Taliban court tried her and found her guilty, and she spent thirteen days in jail, during which she was forced to... regret of what she had done. Only then was she released. The news deeply disturbed me. One of my best friends is still playing sports in Kabul clandestinely.

I don't know how, but some Afghan girls have become even braver despite the countless restrictions imposed by the Taliban. Despite the risks, they find ways to access officially forbidden spaces. My friend, who is almost like a sister to me, is one of them. For over a year now, she has risked sneaking into gyms. When she told me how she does it, I was even more surprised.

In Kabul, some private hospitals have basement gyms that are theoretically only for patients. The Taliban believe that only patients whose doctors prescribe exercise go there. However, in reality, many girls are pressured to obtain fake prescriptions or simply invent illnesses to gain access to these places, exercise, and circumvent the Taliban's ban.

The Gym Pass

My friend told me her doctor had written her a prescription stating she had a lower back injury and needed exercise to recover. This prescription is her pass to the gym.

But even these hospital gyms are closely monitored by the Taliban from the Ministry for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice. Sometimes they check prescriptions, or order trainers not to allow women they deem "inappropriately dressed" to enter. Naturally, no music is played in the gym. It's also forbidden.

Inside the gym, however, the atmosphere is somewhat relaxed. It's a place where women can laugh, work out, sweat, and, for a short time, free their bodies from fear. But that sense of freedom is fragile. The fear that the Taliban might storm in at any moment never goes away. That's why there's always someone keeping watch in the hallway to warn the other girls if the fundamentalists come.

Being a woman and playing sports isn't a crime, just as studying never was. Sometimes I want to go to the gym with my friend, but I confess I'm afraid. Not only of the Taliban, but also of the exhaustion that comes with living several hidden lives at once. My physical health matters to me, but I don't want to risk anything further.

Even so, whenever I think of my friend and other women like her, I feel both fear and admiration. They are women who pretend to be sick just to exercise. They run, breathe, and train, not to win medals and recognition, but simply to feel alive.

In a country where being a woman becomes a daily struggle, even moving your body can become a silent but profoundly powerful form of resistance.