She lived like a boy until she was 16 to escape the darkness of the Taliban. Now she triumphs in squash.

Maria Toorpakai Wazir, born and raised in the Taliban-controlled region of Waziristan, Pakistan, faced a life of strict societal rules and prohibitions. Women in Waziristan are forbidden to walk alone unless accompanied by a man, attend school, watch television, listen to music, or even read. Yet, against all odds, Maria managed to become a top-tier professional squash athlete. Her strategy was unorthodox: she pretended to be a boy. “I understood from a very young age that boys live very differently. I watched girls staying at home and raising their younger siblings…It was so boring. I was different. I knew I couldn’t do that.”

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At the tender age of four, Maria recognized the freedoms that boys seemed to enjoy and decided she wanted to join their ranks. Her parents only realized the gravity of her decision when she burned all her dresses, cut her hair short, and began wearing her brother’s clothes. “I just wanted to be free, and the only kind of freedom I could see was in a boy’s clothes.” Her father supported her decision and started calling her Genghis Khan, after the famous Mongol warlord.

“I just wanted to be free and the only kind of freedom I could see was in a boy’s clothes.”

At home, Maria still performed the traditional roles of a girl, looking after her younger siblings. But outside the house, she was “one of the boys”: playing football, flying kites, and even getting into fights. Her father, Shamsul, an elder of the tribe, defied societal norms and privately educated his daughter, encouraging her interest in sports. This led Maria to discover squash and her true passion. “My dad was thrilled with the idea that I would take my anger out on the wall and not on other people,” she explains. “I was a very aggressive kid.”

Her journey to join a squash academy was not without hurdles. She had to provide a birth certificate to the director, who fortunately proved to be understanding and shared her father’s progressive beliefs, thus allowing her to join. A few months later, Maria, competing as a boy, won her first local squash tournament. She continued to compete and win. However, she was aware that if her secret was revealed, the Taliban would ban her from playing and her family would face severe consequences. At 16, her true identity was exposed when she had to present her birth certificate to a squash academy she wished to join. The truth spread quickly, bringing unwanted attention from the local community.

“They threatened me, harassed me, attacked me, and ridiculed me in every way possible. And I couldn’t understand why! After all, I was still the same person.”

Maria, undeterred, pursued her dream of participating in sports. She began training and competing as a girl. At the age of 16, she won a bronze medal at the World Junior Women’s Championships, gaining global attention and admiration for her remarkable athletic prowess. She was even honored by the President of Pakistan for her achievements. However, her success attracted the wrath of the Taliban, who began to threaten her life, making it unsafe for her to continue competing. For years, her family relocated frequently to ensure the safety of Maria and her younger sister Ayesha, who is now a human rights activist and the youngest politician in Pakistan. “I come from the same tribe as the Taliban. When they discovered that a girl from their tribe was wearing a skirt, walking around without a headscarf, and playing squash at such a high level, they couldn’t bear it and threatened to kill us,” Maria recalls. She spent the next three years confined to her home, practicing squash against her room walls and sending out thousands of emails to squash coaches worldwide, seeking help to escape Pakistan. Her plea was eventually answered by Jonathan Power, a former world champion, who invited her to train with him in Toronto. Maria now lives and trains in Canada and is ranked 47th in the world in her sport. She continues to represent Pakistan.

Today, Maria is on a journey of self-discovery. She doesn’t feel a pressing need to define herself or allow others to do so. “I spent most of my life as a boy and felt confused when I began to embrace my femininity after spending time with my squash teammates. There was so much I had to learn,” she shares. Witnessing men’s mistreatment of women made her aspire to become the ideal man, just to experience it. But when she’s around men, she strives to embody the ideal woman. “I’m grateful to have experienced both sides. Yes, I feel confused at times, but I’m not worried. I’m content with who I am.”

Maria frequently visits her family in Pakistan, where she is working to establish a hospital and hopes to inspire others to do the same. Toronto is her second home. She continues to train intensively, aiming for the top prize in the world squash championship. “I know that the higher you climb, the greater the risk,” says Maria. “But I come from the Wazir tribe, and we never back down.”

“I have a profound belief: if death is destined to find you, it can catch you on the street, in bed, or it can come from the Taliban. I just want to know that I’m doing everything within my power,” she says.

She recognizes the danger she’s in because she herself poses a threat. “I make them appear weak. If a single girl can do that, how could they possibly stop anyone else? I want to convey to all girls: you were born free and you were born brave.”

Maria, now 26, shares her story in Girl Unbound: The War to Be Her, a documentary about her life directed by Erin Heidenreich. The film will be showcased at the Human Rights Watch Film Festival.