PARIS — The second of 17 B-girls to skip onstage here at the inaugural did so improbably and defiantly.
Manizha Talash, a 21-year-old Afghan refugee, perhaps the most unlikely 2024 Olympian, punctuated her one and only battle at La Concorde by ripping off her black sweatshirt to reveal a blue cape with an all-caps message: “FREE AFGHAN WOMEN.”
She did not earn a single judge’s vote in this “pre-qualifier” round essentially created for her; she was outclassed, clearly, by B-girl India from the Netherlands.
But she used her Olympic platform to make a far more significant statement.
That she was even here, at the Paris Games, was remarkable. Talash, a few years ago, was one of millions of girls and women oppressed in Afghanistan, one of the most repressive countries on Earth. When she was 17, she has said, she found a Facebook video of an Afghan teenage boy dancing. She soon became entranced by breaking. She sought out a local group in Kabul, “Superiors Crew.” And she shattered all sorts of cultural norms and rules.
This was before the Taliban returned to power. But even then, art and creative expression were tightly restricted in Afghanistan — no matter the gender of the performer. That she was a girl made her pursuit of breaking doubly taboo.
“It was very difficult because, one, dancing is illegal, period, in Afghanistan,” . “But also, it’s very looked down upon for girls to engage in any kind of sporting activities. So I got a lot of judgment from people in my neighborhood, even from my extended family members. It was definitely a risk.”
At her club, where she was the only girl among 55 boys, she , she received death threats. A bomb exploded nearby. A separate bombing attempt was foiled. The Superiors Crew were forced to shut down the club. They, and Kabul’s small hip-hop community more broadly, had to move further and further underground.
Then, when the Taliban returned to power, they had to flee. Talash and a younger brother said frantic goodbyes to family, piled into a car, and escaped to Pakistan, crossing the border illegally.
She eventually followed a friend to Spain, as a passport-less refugee.
And that’s where she continued dancing.
She has said that she did not flee because she was afraid, but rather because she wanted to pursue her passion. She had nowhere near the resources nor experience to pursue it on the Olympic stage. But the International Olympic Committee caught wind of Talash’s story, and invited her to the Olympic Refugee Team.
So she arrived here in Paris, as the 17th participant in what was set to be a 16-woman breakdancing competition.
She was given a shot to battle B-girl India in breaking’s equivalent of a play-in game.
She never had any real chance to win. Even to novice observers, she had neither the rhythm nor the repertoire that India and 15 others displayed over a few upbeat hours here.
But she had the best story to tell, and the most important message to send.
She opened the competition in all-black outfit and red bandana. After one round, she shed the bandana to reveal her medium-length black hair — a move that would’ve run afoul of the Taliban’s so-called morality police back home in Kabul.
And then, at the start of the third round, she ditched her Olympic Refugee Team sweatshirt to reveal a black shirt with Farsi lettering on the front and a cape with “FREE AFGHAN WOMEN” on the back.
Fans applauded. India, her opponent, applauded too.
Talash did not elaborate on her message in interviews afterward — “What she did on stage I think is enough,” her translator and handler said while ushering her through a mixed zone — but the context was obvious and the statement, in support of countrywomen, was clear.
Source Agencies
