More Winners At This Year’s Olympics

 Last month, I wrote about Yulduz and Farima Hashimi, two Afghani sisters whose long road to the Olympics began in disguise and on borrowed bicycles.  

To me, whether or not they win a medal—or even finish a race—in Paris, they are winners.

So is Ese Ukpeseraye, who is not only the first Nigerian cyclist to compete in the Olympics. She is the first cyclist of any gender identity to go from the West African nation to the Olympics.

Originally, she was scheduled to compete only in road races. The disqualification of another nation’s riders opened a slot for her to compete in track events.

There was one problem:  While she had a proper road bike, she didn’t have one suitable for the velodrome, where racers pedal lighter weight machines that are more aerodynamic and have shorter wheelbases, single fixed gears and no brakes.

Just when it seemed she wouldn’t be able to represent her country on the oval, a track bike was loaned to her—by the German team.

For such munificence, I hereby declare that squad another of this year’s winners at this year’s Olympics. I don’t think they need me to make such an announcement: If they haven’t already won a medal or two, they probably will.

Real Winners In Paris

Imagine this:  After bringing glory to your country, you can’t go home.

That is the dilemma Yulduz and Fariba Hashimi could face.

Actually, the two sisters haven’t been home in three years. They’ve been training in Switzerland for this year’s Paris Olympics. How they got there is exactly the reason why they can’t return their native land.

Yulduz (l) and Fariba Hashimi

In 2021, they fled the Taliban takeover of Afghanistan on an Italian evacuation flight. They were joined by, among others, three young people who would become their Olympic teammates. 

In Italy, they received proper coaching for the first time. “Back in Afghanistan, we didn’t have professional training,” says Yulduz. “All we used to do was take our bikes and ride.”

That isn’t nearly as idyllic as it sounds. Their bikes were borrowed and they trained and raced—and won—in disguise and under false names. When stories about them appeared in the local media, their parents begged them to stop. People drove rickshaws and cars, and threw stones, at them.

They were not only in one of the most restrictive countries for women and girls, they were in one of its most remote and conservative areas: Faryab province. As if that, and the lack of coaching. weren’t formidable obstacles, they were working from yet another disadvantage. Yulduz, now 24 years old and Fariba, 21 didn’t even mount a bicycle for the first time until they were 17 and 14, respectively. When they arrived in Italy, they were training with, and competing against cyclists who started pedaling not long after they learned how to walk.

Although few believe they will win a medal, I—and,

I suspect, more than a few other people—wouldn’t be too surprised if they did, given what they’ve overcome and sacrificed.

Whatever the results of their races, they will vindicate the International Olympic Committee’s maneuvering. According to IOC rules, a country must choose its team members without political interference. That, of course, wasn’t going to happen with the Taliban in power: Women aren’t allowed to do much besides bear children and keep a household, never mind compete in sports. 

The IOC talked, behind the scenes, with Afghan sports officials—some of whom live in exile—about putting together a special team to represent Afghanistan in Paris.

 For once, I applaud the wheeling and dealing of the IOC, an organization whose level of corruption rivals the UCI and FIFA. Their work work means two Yulduz and Fariba Hashimi’s presence in Paris is a victory, whatever the results of their races.