Sadaf Khadem came from the mountains and underground gyms of Tehran to Royan, a seaside town in the south of France, so that she could have the freedom to fight. She came alone. In the salty air of Royan, she respectfully replaced the hijab with a blue headguard and gum shield. Khadem had already pulled on a vest and shorts and boxing boots.
Mahyar Monshipour, a former world champion boxer based in France, was her trainer. As a man, who was not her husband, he was not meant to be close to her. But Monshipour wrapped her hands and slipped on the gloves. Khadem’s arms and her legs were bare as she walked to the ring in April 2019 for her first fight as an amateur boxer.
She also made history as the first Iranian woman to step into a boxing ring. Khadem wore a green vest, in honour of Iran, with her country’s name printed on the fabric even though she was challenging the rule of Islamic law in her homeland. She had uncovered parts of her body and Iran does not allow women to participate in a sport that apparently belongs to men.
Khadem is brave, dreams of boxing in the 2024 Olympics and, from there, becoming a pro fighter promoted by Eddie Hearn and fighting on the same bill as Anthony Joshua.
She won her first bout last April but Monshipour received a warning the following day that she faced arrest if she returned to Tehran. Khadem, briefly, made news around the world. “I confounded the rules of my country,” she told L’Équipe. “I wasn’t wearing a hijab, I was coached by a man – some people take a dim view of this.”
Today, Khadem lights up her small front room in Royan with vivacity and intelligence. The 25-year-old has such a spark she already looks like a star. Khadem has 63,000 followers on Instagam but she is rigorous when stressing the seriousness of boxing.
“In football,” Khadem says, “in basketball and handball, they say you play a game. But in boxing you don’t play. Boxers look exactly like gladiators. The punches are real. You can be scared and hurt. But you have to accept the punches. You have to be fast. Sometimes you have to be cool. You have to dance in the difficult situation you endure. You are alone in the ring.”
Khadem, in simple but powerful English, tells her story. “I started this new life like an accident,” she says. “I came here with two bags. Nothing more. I lose everything I had in Iran. In Tehran I was a fitness coach and had my personal gym. Now I begin again. I am working in agriculture [on a farm] doing physical work.”
She smiles before saying her next stark phrase: “From nothing to everything. Here in Royan it’s very beautiful. Touristique. I have many friends. Last year I didn’t have any experience in boxing, but now I have 13 fights. I love this life. I choose to stay here. This is very important because I didn’t have a problem with Iran. I love my country. I love my culture. I always believe I’m Iranian. French people really help me and I love them. But I never forget my first home is Iran. My second home is France.”
Khadem is in that strange and haunting place called exile. The Iranian authorities have since denied she will be arrested but Khadem feels unable to return home yet. She misses her family. “Fortunately I see them on WhatsApp. Every day I speak with my mum – but it’s not reality.”
What does her mother think of her boxing? “She prefer I go to a sport like tennis. I went to a good school. We were not a poor family. I was learning English. I played viola.”
She reaches for her viola. “See,” she says. “I still enjoy it.” A viola-playing Iranian woman in the boxing ring is unusual but, as Khadem says: “My mother is a very strong feminist. She wants me to be independent. So she supports me. I just think about other girls when their parents don’t support their independence. I fight for them too.”
How did she discover a forbidden sport like women’s boxing? “I saw this movie about Mary Kom. She is an Indian boxer [who won a bronze medal at the London Olympics]. From that movie I liked boxing. One of my basketball coaches had also said: ‘Sadaf, if you want to be faster in basketball, try boxing.’ Two months later Muhammad Ali died [in June 2016]. I saw him on TV and then everything was about boxing. But it was not easy. I do it underground after I started training in Taleghani Park in Tehran. My coach had the pads and I hit them. But soon he can’t meet me in the park. He come to my home. In the parking area I prepared a little place for my training. After he can’t come to my home I went to his gym, one hour and 30 minutes away. I went with metro, taxis and buses.
“After I change my coach it was bad. I went with an older man. I can’t speak about this but he did very bad things with me. I went to the mountains. I did meditation and yoga. I found a person who is very holy. He helped me. He’s a professor and he tells me: ‘Sadaf, it’s better for six months to be alone, to think what you want to do in your life.’ So I stopped boxing and made my body and mind strong again.
“I come back to boxing and decide to train with the coach of the national team. He was very good. He helped me for six months but it’s impossible to fight. There is no women’s boxing in Iran. We have federations for women’s kickboxing, karate, judo, wrestling. But not boxing. I tried to create this. I had interviews with many journals in Iran. I speak with the president of the boxing federation. Ten times. I tell them: ‘Please accept me. If you want, I do boxing with hijab, with your rules.’ But they don’t accept me. They don’t want me.”
Khadem’s life changed when Monshipour returned to Iran for a visit. The WBA super-bantamweight world champion between 2003 and 2006 had been born in Tehran in 1975. When he was 11, as the war between Iran and Iraq intensified, his father had sent him to France with his aunt. Monshipour discovered boxing and became a ferocious fighter nicknamed Little Tyson.
“He was a great name in Iran,” Khadem says. “I see on Instragram he is coming to give boxing classes in the Tochal mountains near Tehran. I sent him a message. ‘Hello Monsieur Monshipour. Can you prepare a formal fight for me?’ And he accepted to help. It took a long time for me to get a visa to France and then a boxing licence. But Monshipour helped me.”
Finally, she could step into the ring in Royan to face Anne Chauvin, a French boxer. “She had four fights and I had none,” Khadem remembers, “and she was strong. There was big pressure. When I arrived in France, I see cameras, cameras, cameras. I say: ‘Mr Monshipour? What is happening?’ He tells me I make an important step for women and my country. Now many people in the world look at me. I want to win because of my country. That time I didn’t think about technique. I was boxing with my heart. It was very hard but I won.”
Can she describe her emotions when her hand was lifted by the referee? “I was crying. I remember my first coach always said: ‘Sadaf, you never can fight for Iran.’ I told him: ‘One day I do real competition for Iran.’ I did that.”
Before the global pandemic Khadem had won 11 of her 13 fights. After six bouts she had switched to a new trainer, Mickaël Weus, and she says: “I am getting better but now it is difficult again. I had fights cancelled because of lockdown. But I have two fights in a Paris tournament on 23 and 24 October and there will be no public. It will be good because I have only lost two fights. The first was close but I accept the defeat. I was a boxer with just six fights. My adversary was champion of France. She had 20 or 30 fights.”
Who would she like to fight for in the 2024 Olympics in Paris? “For Iran, for France, whoever,” she says with a breezy shrug. “When you become Olympic champion, it’s you who wins. The country is important but you are the champion. It’s a pleasure for me if I do it for Iran or for France. But I need Iran to accept women’s boxing and for France I need the nationality. It takes four years so it’s not easy.”
She points out that, “In kickboxing there is a very high female level in Iran. They do it with the hijab – no problem. Normally I don’t wear the hijab. But, if Iran wants me, I do it because I want to box for Iran. But the problem is boxing. It’s not the hijab. Iran just does not allow female boxers. They say men only.”
Would it be safe, politically, to return to Tehran after lockdown eases? “I hope so. Everything is possible.”
Now, however, she dreams of a grand future, “I love Anthony Joshua,” she says. “His character. His boxing. The way Eddie Hearn promotes him. In women’s boxing I love Cecilia Brækhus [the undisputed world welterweight champion]. After 2024 I hope to box in England. It would be another world.”
Khadem might be attracted to the glamour of big-time boxing but she insists that “the problem is humans now pay attention to artificial things. I am interested in the ideas of a professor who might only have 20 followers. Of course I respect women who pay attention to her face, her body. But the ideas in her mind last much longer. Does she have a goal or is it just followers or money? It’s not the problem of the Kardashians. They do what the world wants. But here is my home [she gestures to her room]. I have my books. My clothes. Just this. I don’t have any TV. I prefer to read books to learn more. Now the world is focused on the artificial. Instagram is OK but [she snaps her fingers] it’s not reality.”
She looks very serious before breaking into another smile. “Boxing is reality. It’s hard but it’s good. It’s just like real life.”