Focus on the revival of Afghan sport

Imagine a girl carrying a burka in one hand and a basketball in another. It's a strange, but telling image that months earlier would have been unthinkable. Inside the Amani German High School, that's exactly what can be found behind closed doors in the changing Afghan capital, Kabul. "Basketball gives me the freedom I never had," 14-year-old Pashtun, told IRIN proudly. "Under the Taliban I would never have dreamed of such a thing." Invited three months ago to join an all-girls basketball match three times a week, she accepted reluctantly - still nervous of lingering Taliban attitudes towards women. During the five years of hard-line Taliban rule, she studied secretly at one of the many underground home-based schools for girls. With little else to do, she became an enthusiastic student and was described by her teachers as a solid "academic". However, recreational sport - particularly for girls - was a dream then. But that dream, imaginable or not, is slowly reemerging as millions of Afghans work to rebuild their lives and their country. Before the Taliban, Afghanistan enjoyed a strong sporting tradition and received international acclaim in the areas of wrestling, weightlifting, archery, track and field, as well as boxing. Today like many of her peers, Pashtun wants to direct some of her energy to her body, as well as her mind - something she thinks will prove critical to the rebuilding of her country. "My country needs strong bodies as well as strong minds. The two are one in the same," she asserted. Nema Soratgar, a former national champion of Afghanistan's all-star women's basketball team shares Pastun's conviction. She told IRIN sport had a major role in the country and could not be dismissed. "Sport is important for both boys and girls. We need to work at it," the one-time olympic hopeful said. She remembers vividly how after the Taliban came to power, she secretly practiced and exercised at home to keep herself fit, covering the windows with paper to avoid the attention of Taliban informants. "We would be beaten if they caught us. But it was all that we could do," she said. In a further show of defiance, she secretly taught physical education classes to girls in underground schools such as Pashtun's. "It was horrible. You simply cannot imagine how dangerous our lives were then," she said. Currently working as an English lecturer at Kabul's teacher training institute, she also coaches some 24 girls in volleyball, basketball, gymnastics and badminton. "I wish I could do more, but we don't have the resources," she said. "As this is one of few facilities available, we can only have it three times a week for one hour," she explained. In short, with far more pressing humanitarian needs today gripping the country, the challenge of rebuilding Afghanistan's once proud sporting heritage remains as illusive as ever. "The Taliban cared little for sport," Safatolah Seadali, head of the faculty of physical education at Kabul's teacher training university, told IRIN. "Now the will is returning, but the means are simply not there." Sitting in his simple, unpainted office, he recalled fondly when in the 1970s the university attracted thousands of young men and women from all over the country to study in their faculty. "That was a special time for us then. We were the centre for the development of sport in Afghanistan then." Subsequently, many years of devastating civil war - and five under the Taliban - served to shatter that image. While the otherwise modern looking facility looks intack, its soul and spirit have long disappeared - another victim to a now hated regime. Derelict classrooms with peeling, cracked walls remain largely empty. Most of the physical education equipment has been stolen, damaged or destroyed. "Most people don't recognise the value of sport for the country. They are too worried about getting food for their families now," he explained. When the Taliban siezed control of the city, most faculty members left or were dismissed as the university was turned into a centre for Islamic study. Even the gynasiasium where Afghans played basketball with a vengeance was converted into a mosque for students to gather and pray in. Under the faded red carpeting of the floor, the parquet floor was ripped up and sold for firewood, while the outside volleyball court stands broken and overgrown with weeds, testament to years of neglect. One teacher who has returned, however, is Mohammad Rasol. The 35-year-old ethnic Hazara who was once a master gymnast, is now training separate groups of 220 boys and 30 girls at the centre. "Unfortunately, our club was destroyed and we have nothing," he said. "The desire is there, but the equipment isn't," he explained. Today, like many of his faculty colleagues, he is looking to the international community for help. Meanwhile, such conditions are prevalent throughout the devastated city, with most sporting facilities damaged or altogether destroyed. The sheer thought of prioritising the needs of these facilities is daunting. Of the dozen public pools that earlier blessed this once liberal Muslim city - providing welcome relief to both men and women from the thick Central Asian heat of the summer - just one is operable today. Crowded with young men - most of whom cannot swim at all - at US $2 a day admission, it remains largely out of reach to the vast majority of Kabul's two million inhabitants. Most Afghans are too concerned with providing food for their families in a jobless economy to think of such luxuries. But for those Afghans who are just now sampling, not just the physical, but the psychological benefits of sport - it is quite evident there is a role for it to play, lifting the well being of the people and the nation out of the doldrums of misery to one of optimism and confidence. "When I'm swimming, I feel so free, I feel positive," 19-year-old, Khalid, told IRIN. Hashmatullah Rasa, a 23-year-old kick boxer and holder of two black belts even dreams of his country going to the next olympic games in Athens. "Why not?" he asked. "Sport is a wonderful way to unify a nation and we sure could use a bit of that," he said. Practicing daily, he told IRIN Afghans would be ready for Greece if the opportunity existed. "During the Taliban times, we kept working and practicing because optimism for an athlete is critical," he said. Rasa's optimism, however, is eclipsed by the reality of the misery and devastation around him. Even Afghanistan's reemerging Olympic Committee is at a loss of what to do. Although Afghanistan had participated in every summer Olympics since 1936 in Berlin, it was banned in 1999 by the International Olympic Committee (IOC) to participate at the Sydney games after a Taliban ruling banned women from competition. The olympic charter forbids discrimination based on race, religion, politics, or sex - and Afghanistan's many athletes, already tremendously isolated, were shut out of international competition. In his office at Kabul's olympic stadium - famous not so long ago for the public executions routinely carried out there by the Taliban - Sayed Mohmod Zia Dishty, vice president of the Afghan Olympic Committee told IRIN the committee was now exploring the possibility of sending a team to the 2004 Olympic Games. Putting Afghanistan back on the world stage would be a major achievement, but an untenable goal at this point. "We simply don't have the funds to do it," he said. At the moment, they were holding discussions with international organisations on possible support and remain hopeful something could be done. Indeed hope is really all there is for those working to promote sport in the country. "We were once a great nation of sport and we will be so again," Seadali said confidently. Meanwhile, back at the Amani High School, watching the girls playing an impromptu volleyball game, there is no mistaking the smiles on their faces. Barred from sports by the now defunct Taliban for five years, it is hard to imagine that until recently such activity was banned altogether. But after the game ends, and the girls begin to cover themselves with their burkas again in readiness to go outside, the smiles disappear. Such is the sad reality of sport in Afghanistan today.