By Nilofar Niekpor Zamani
Shukria Qurbani used to spend every weekend at the pool, training with her young students. Swimming was her life and the pool was a place of calm, an escape from the limits her society placed on young women.
That was until 2021, when the Taliban returned to power in her native Afghanistan. Now, the pool in Kabul where she used to swim is dry, the building abandoned and its doors bolted against the young women she once coached.
Taking up a sport was never easy for women in Afghanistan, where patriarchy pervaded society even before the Taliban’s return. But possibilities had opened up in the two decades since they were toppled from power. Despite all the obstacles, Shukria managed to follow her passion for swimming and in 2017, after formal training, she was appointed as a coach for the Afghan Swimming Federation.
“My motivation for joining this sport wasn’t just personal interest. I had a deeper goal to fight against the restrictions imposed on women in Afghanistan’s traditional society,” she said in an interview from her new home in California. “I wanted to show those who oppose women’s progress that Afghan women can also have big dreams and achieve them.”
When the Taliban returned in 2021, everything changed. Gym doors were locked, women’s sports programs were cancelled, and hundreds of women athletes were suddenly confined to their homes. Hope turned into fear.
Shukria knew that staying meant silence and disappearance. Seven months ago, she made the difficult decision to leave her country, her family, and everything she was attached to for a new life in the United States.
“Seven months ago, I had to leave Afghanistan because the threats had increased. Even at home, I didn’t feel safe. It was like any moment someone could knock on the door and ask, ‘Why are you still alive?’,” Shukria says.
Secret Swimmers
Shukria was born in 1989, and grew up in a society that told women to be silent and passive from the start. She chose a different path.
When she decided to become a swimmer, her family supported her, but they worried about her safety and about what people would think. It was rare for women to swim, and the idea was anathema in the conservative society in which she grew up.
Still, Shukria did not give up. She knew swimming was her passion and believed she would one day represent her country in international competitions.
At first, the pool’s existence was secret. Because of threats from the Taliban and other extremist groups, the owners could not advertise it on social media, and although it was only 20 meters from the men’s pool, it was in a separate building underground. Only a few women knew about it, but for those few, it was a safe place. Every weekend, Shukria and her students trained for five hours a day.
To enter, there were strict rules—you had to ring the bell, pass a security check by a woman, and hand over all recording devices, including mobile phones. But for them, it was a door to freedom.
Each training course lasted three months. Shukria would choose 10 students for each course to teach them how to swim. She trained around 50 women and girls in Kabul, eight of whom were registered as professional swimmers under Afghanistan’s previous government.
“Swimming wasn’t just a sport for me. It was a way to grow mentally, to find peace, to build self-confidence, to stay fit, and even to heal both physical and emotional problems,” she says.
“For an Afghan woman, swimming is not just a sport. It’s breathing, it’s proof of existence, it’s resistance.”
Shukria is now focused on learning English as she settles into her new life. Although she’s thousands of kilometres away, she still sees herself as a coach. Half her students have migrated to Iran, and half are still in Kabul, waiting for the day they can dive into the water again. They send her messages from quiet homes: “Don’t forget us.
