Nadia Azizi is willing to sacrifice half her name for what she loves. “My grandfather says that if I continue, I will have to drop my last name. If I have to do that to play football, I will do that,” says the 16-year-old from Kabul.

Then, the urge for freedom in her bursts out: “The other option is to get married and sit at home. I would rather face a firing squad.”

Azizi is the captain of Afghanistan’s Under-17 Women’s Football Team. She and 15 other girls – the mascots of a new Afghanistan — are now in New Delhi for the 58^th edition of the Subroto Cup.

The story of these girls, however, is not all about dribbling, passing and penalty kicks. It is more about how 16 girls braved tradition, religion, ridicule and family wrath to embrace their passion in a country ravaged by long years of war.

“Being a sportsperson in a war-torn country is not easy. Worse still is being a female player in a war-torn Islamic country. I remember being ridiculed when I wanted to play,” she says.

The birth of Azizi’s team itself is an example. The original team that was scheduled to play in India dropped out at the last minute. Most parents didn’t allow their children to leave the country, and Azizi’s team was formed. Barring the skipper, nobody in the team has travelled outside Afghanistan before.

They are no shooting stars in the international or even in the domestic circuit. They have only a few local tournaments to boast of. Yet, they showed guts and grit to break the barriers.

Team mate Fatima Mursal Bakawle (15) echoes her skipper: “It’s not easy to be a woman athlete in Afghanistan.”

Still, Azizi and Bakawle are among the lucky lot. They are from well-to-do families and enjoy parental support. Nadia hails from a middle-class family, and her father is an engineer and her mother a homemaker. She has five siblings. Bakawle’s  father works in one of the ministries and her mother is a resident doctor at a government hospital.

Though her parents are supportive, Azizi’s grandpa doesn’t even know that she is in India. “If he finds out, he will flip. He comes from a generation in which women were only expected to marry, have kids and cook for the family. He does not understand anything else. And he does not want to understand. But as long as I have the support of my parents, I am sure everything will work out.”

If for Azizi, it’s her grandpa, for Bakawle, it’s her kin. “My parents have no objection to my playing football, but none of my relatives know that I am a footballer. Neither do they know about my trip to India. My mother got married at the age of 13. She knows first-hand what it is like to live in shackles. This is one reason why she encourages me. There are days when I feel like quitting. It’s her constant love and support which keeps me going,” she says.

Many others in the team, though, were not so lucky. It was quite a task convincing their parents. “Just this one time,” they pleaded.

Goalkeeper Fatima Yusufi (16) is one example. Her story, in a way, is the story of present-day Afghanistan. “Unemployment  is a huge problem. My parents are unemployed. My brother works after school to support the family. He works at a roadside cafe. Since that is not enough, I started working as a tutor.” Fatima teaches English to primary school students on weekends, and is one of the few team members who can speak English.

But in a country where fundamentalism rules the roost, how did these girls get into the game in the first place? “Football is very popular with the locals. I see boys playing it all the time. I would try to get my hands on the ball whenever I could. I remember being ridiculed because I wanted to play. I also remember the day I scored my first goal. That day, it struck me that this is what I am cut out for. I have been playing ever since,” says Azizi.

The girls are school friends, and fell for football, influenced by one another. “Nadia was the first to start four years back. Then Fatima joined. I was the last one in,” Bakawle traces the history.

A die-hard Barcelona fan, Azizi’s face lights up while talking about football statistics. From the jersey numbers to the crowning glories of star players, she can rattle off all the details of the game. All this, in a country where girls are not even allowed to watch football on TV!

“We learn everything from the internet. I spend my free time surfing the Net and learn about the game and movies,” she says.

“My parents would not even let me watch movies. They say movies corrupt our minds,” says Bakawle, rolling her eyes. “I haven’t even told them that I have a Facebook account,” she adds with a wink.

It’s like the girls are leading a double life on all fronts. “It’s all worth it,” she convinces herself.

India, for these youngsters, means a big dose of freedom. Back in Afghanistan, they have to cover their bodies and wear the burqa even on the football field.

In India, they can lift the veil and breathe the fresh air of liberty. The captain herself was donning a headband during the Subroto Cup. “This is my second trip to India. These few days are the only time I can even think of not covering my head,” she says.

At the Subroto Cup, they got a bye in the first match, and lost to Mizoram
(2-0) and Jharkhand (4-0).

That’s quite understandable when you listen to what Bakawle says. “The situation in the country is deplorable. The government is busy fighting the Taliban. No one pays attention to football. The Football Federation of Afghanistan ground, where we practise, is closed for more than half a year. Before coming to India, we could only practise for 20-25 days. How can we perform in such conditions?” she asks.

Are you missing home?

Hear out Bakawle. “The football field is where I am truly happy. I can forget about the situation in the country. I can forget about the problems at home. For a few hours, I can be absolutely free.”

“There is nothing for us back home. If I could, I would stay here forever,” Bakawle expresses her wish.

“I hope that one day the situation in the country would improve — not just in terms of war, but also in terms of gender equality. I know my dream of becoming a star player is far-fetched. But for now, that is what keeps me going,” she says.

In fact, that’ what keeps the entire team going. In soccer, they find succour.