Although unofficial reports suggest that Khadija Ahmadzada, the courageous taekwondo coach in Herat arrested for secretly training girls, has finally been released after enduring 12 days in Taliban detention, her freedom should not be taken as a sign of any softening in the Taliban’s behaviour. Instead, it marks the beginning of a new chapter filled with uncertainty and fear. The complete media silence that has settled over reporting anything about Ahmadzada since her release reflects the severe physical and psychological state of a woman whose only “crime” was teaching other women how to stand on their own.
Based on the Taliban’s behavioural patterns over the past three years, detainees like Khadija Ahmadzada are typically subjected to grueling interrogations and pressured into signing pledges that require them to cease all social and athletic activities. In many cases, release is conditioned on accepting self-imposed exile or total confinement at home. These tactics are part of the Taliban’s machinery of structural repression, designed to show women that the shadow of fear and erasure never truly leaves them, even after release from detention, and that the consequence of any form of resistance is the destruction of their identity and personal life.
Ahmadzada’s arrest in Herat is far more than a simple headline about an athlete. It is a mirror reflecting the systemic policy of erasing women across territories under Taliban control. The incident strips the mask from those who claim in international forums that the Taliban have changed, that they’ve softened their hardline beliefs. The reality in the streets of Herat and Kabul is nothing short of blatant gender apartheid. Since the fall of Kabul, the first and most brutal lashes of restriction have struck Afghan women: the closure of schools and universities, bans on employment in offices and institutions, and severe limits on mobility are only the outer layers of this oppression.
Even more, the Taliban have targeted the roots of women’s confidence and joy by banning artistic and athletic activities. As a result, thousands of women athletes who spent years sweating to raise Afghanistan’s flag in international arenas have been forced to flee. Yet those like Khadija who stayed behind have kept the frontline of resistance alive in basements and hidden gyms.
Khadija Ahmadzada, the taekwondo coach abducted on January, 10, 2026 (20 Jadi 1404) by the Taliban’s Ministry for the Propagation of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice in the Jebrael district of Herat, has become a symbol of defiance in a time of darkness. Even as she knew that every kick she delivered to the punching bag in that hidden gym could cost her life, she refused to stop teaching girls. The Taliban raid on that small training space, as well as the arrest of Khadija, her father, and the man who had provided the location, reveal the group’s deep fear of women gathering together.
The Taliban understand well that sports are not merely physical activity for women, but a way for them to train in strength, resolve, and in how to reject humiliation. This is why Ahmadzada’s arrest sparked a fresh wave of fear among the women who had been continuing their civic and athletic activities in the hidden corners of Afghan cities. Her detention makes visible the direct clash between the “human identity of women” and the “misogynistic ideology of the Taliban.”
No analysis of the present moment is complete without looking at the historical context and the patriarchal structures that shape Afghan society. The bitter truth is that the Taliban grew out of misogynistic traditions that existed long before them. Though women’s sports made notable progress during the republican era, including the creation of federations and national teams in football, martial arts, and cycling, women athletes still faced constant threats in major cities like Kabul and Mazar-e-Sharif.
When the Taliban returned to power, they did not weaken this patriarchal system but sanctified and strengthened it, giving it legal and religious authority. They drew on the gendered prejudices that existed in society to consolidate their rule.
Sports highlightThe stark and painful contradictions of Afghan society : While a woman taekwondo coach is imprisoned simply for practicing a sport, thousands of people flood the streets to celebrate the victories of men’s sports teams. This collective silence in the face of the repression of women athletes and the enthusiastic celebration of men’s sports reveals the depth of gendered and racialized discrimination in this country.
The fundamental question is this: Why do the Taliban, despite their primitive and extremist worldview, not only refrain from opposing men’s sports but have become their primary patrons, especially championing cricket, football, and buzkashi? The answer lies in their politics of legitimacy. The Taliban have fully recognized that having Afghan men perform sports on the global stage is a powerful tool for public diplomacy and for projecting a “normal” image of their regime. They use male athletes as unofficial ambassadors to tell the world that Afghanistan under their rule is “happy and stable.” The presence of senior Taliban officials in stadiums, their meetings with cricket stars, and their enormous spending on men’s competitions are deliberate efforts to whitewash their crimes at home. It is a grand deception in which victories of men’s teams become a cover for the sound of women’s bones breaking inside intelligence prisons.
In this reality, the role of governments claiming to be democracies and international human-rights institutions is nothing short of disgraceful. Holding political meetings and striking economic deals with a group that openly practises gender apartheid is an act of erasing the struggles of women like Khadija Ahmadzada. Every diplomatic smile directed at Taliban officials lands like a whip on the backs of imprisoned Afghan women.
Khadija’s arrest was not an isolated act but a piece of the broader puzzle of eliminating women from the political, economic, and cultural life of Afghanistan. Any woman who stands against this policy is branded a security threat and dragged to the slaughterhouse of repression. The silence of prominent male athletes who operate under the banner of “national interest” adds to this tragedy. Through their silence, they have effectively become tools in the regime’s machinery of suppressing their female counterparts.
In the end, the case of Khadija Ahmadzada reminds us once again that Afghan women’s struggle against gender apartheid is a full-scale battle for the survival of humanity. This struggle requires global solidarity and deep awareness within the country. One cannot claim to defend freedom while remaining silent as a female taekwondo coach is imprisoned simply for working out. A society that celebrates the victories of its men on the ruins of its women’s freedom will never know true peace or liberation.
Khadija Ahmadzada and thousands of women like her continue to stand firm despite every threat. They prove that women cannot be erased from society in Afghanistan.
Parwana Kebrit is an Afghan activist living in Europe.
