Amira Mohamed never left the pitch for the first time; it was a game. For her, and hundreds of Egyptian female footballers, the field was a battlefield – not one against opponents, but against generational scepticism.
She claimed that playing football wasn’t always what was customary for girls. No one seemed to take our situation seriously. But we kept going anyway. We simply played for the love of the game, without any audience.
Growing up, Mohamed had a dream about playing under the lights of a stadium one day, dressing up for either of Egypt’s two biggest teams, Al Ahly or Zamalek, and getting her name called out by commentators. Back then, it felt impossible, “a fantasy reserved only for boys”, as she put it.
However, despite being slow and agonizing, change has come over the past ten years.
She told Al Jazeera, “Things have changed.” “It’s now easier as big clubs are investing, matches are on TV, and dreams we used to hide are finally being seen”.
Football has been a man’s game for as long as Egyptians have been aware of it, played in dusty alleyways, cheered from crowded stadiums, and broadcast on television screens all over the country. However, the majority of women stayed on the sidelines. That dynamic, for the most part, still holds. However, something changed in 2024. For the first time, the Women’s Premier League of Egypt was broadcast on national television, a moment when dreams come true for players like Mohamed.
Launched in 1998, the women’s league limped along in obscurity for years, with few clubs willing to support it, and as recently as 2021, it featured just 11 teams. However, there hasn’t been much change in recent years. There are now five brand-new clubs, and there are also under-13 level youth teams for girls in the under-15 age range. Even mega clubs like Al Ahly and Zamalek have established women’s squads, driven not only by FIFA regulations but also by a growing awareness of the potential and power of women in sport.
Women’s league games are now on TV, especially those featuring famous clubs, and Egypt’s ON Sports satellite channel has done something unprecedented. Some of these games now include post-match analysis, which is surprising.
A cultural shift
Despite numerous roadblocks, Egypt’s women’s national team head coach, Abdel Fattah Abbas, claims that the game has made significant progress.
Sahar el-Hawary, a former member of the Egyptian Football Association and a steadfast champion of the women’s game, receives a lot of the momentum, he said. “She was instrumental in persuading FIFA to withhold professional licensing from major clubs unless they field women’s teams”.
Egyptian footballers Eman Hassan and Laila El Behery both signed professional contracts with international clubs as a result of the burgeoning movement, which transformed what was once seen as a pastime into a lucrative career. Some parents are currently enrolling their daughters in residential football programs.
Initiatives such as “1, 000 Girls, 1, 000 Dreams”, a collaboration between the British Council and Egypt’s Ministry of Youth and Sports, and the Dutch-funded KNVB WorldCoaches programme, are empowering women in local communities.
Basant Tarek, a veteran player and trainer with KNVB, says, “every coach returns to their hometown, spreading the game and opening doors for girls.” Despite the success of some of these programs, they continue to be influential. Girls ‘ football teams are now emerging in schools and youth centres across the country.
Far from over
However, societal stigma held back women’s development in football for years. Many parents refused to support their daughters ‘ ambitions, seeing football as a sport for boys. Families frequently worried about their daughters’ reputations because they thought it would violate traditional gender roles to play traditionally masculine sports.
Aya Abdel Hady, a pioneering coach with roots in Upper Egypt, is well-versed in the cultural resistance that female footballers frequently encounter.
“It was hard to get full support at first”, she said. There were “so many obstacles”: family, society, clubs, and even the individuals. Simply put, “women’s football was not worth playing.”
But her love for the game never wavered. Although her playing career was eventually ended by her injuries, she was unable to return to football.
She continued, “If anything, they [the injuries] pushed me into coaching.” “It was a new challenge, and I embraced it”.
Sheikh Zayed Academy’s head coach and the women’s division technical director at City Club were among the elite positions she took after moving from her local academies. In Saudi Arabia, Abdel Hady is currently in charge of futsal, a game that is played indoors and has five players on each side.
These transformational sentiments were shared by Yara Amir, another rising star in Egypt’s women’s football movement.
“The perception of women’s football has changed significantly in recent years”, she explained. It is now more discernible. Although the interest is definitely growing, it still falls short of the men’s game’s popularity.
That shift did not come easily. Amir recalled the initial skepticism she encountered.
She told Al Jazeera, “Many people thought football wasn’t a sport for girls.” “They were genuinely surprised to see me play. I had to demonstrate that I belonged rather than just my abilities.
She started out playing games with boys in her neighborhood when she was just a kid, and she eventually kicked a plastic ball alone.
“That deepened my love for the game”, Amir added. “My family rallied around me, and that was what really mattered,” he said.
A similar story belongs to Yasmin Yasser, a licensed coach and professional player who grew up in Mansoura, a city without a single women’s league team.
She told Al Jazeera, “Many people assumed football was just for boys.” Many people believed that a girl should be playing at home rather than on the field.
The pushback was relentless. Yasser credits her steadfast success to her late father, a former professional footballer himself. She honed her skills playing in the streets before enlisting in academies and eventually joining Al Ahly’s ranks, having had few opportunities in her hometown. Yasser then enrolled in coaching programmes, earning both D and C-standard licences, allowing her to work with players from beginner to advanced skill levels.
She continued, “I want to be a role model for parents, so they understand the value of supporting young talent,” adding, “Not just for the girls, but for the parents.”
More needs to be done
Advocates like Abbas contend that the sport’s visibility must result in tangible investment as Egypt’s interest in women’s football is rising.
Without them, he said, “these promising talents run the risk of being squandered in a cycle of underinvestment and missed opportunities.” “The steps taken were vital, but they’re far from enough. Women’s football receives significantly less funding than men’s football, despite this. This lack of support affects everything from salaries to transportation to training quality.
For Abdel Hady, the televised matches are a sign of genuine progress, as “it opens doors for players to go professional, locally and internationally”.
She maintains that the growth is still fragile. Without long-term planning and real investment, including technical, financial, and infrastructural, the momentum could easily wane. Support from top clubs is still limited.
“These televised matches give girls across the country the chance to be seen, to believe this path is possible”, Yasser agreed, but like Abdel Hady, she is keenly aware of the disparities.
“Left-tier teams hardly have uniforms, let alone medical staff or travel funding,” they claim. Yasser once spent money on transportation and training expenses during her career.
“Societal doubt hasn’t fully faded”, Amir said, echoing the same sentiment. Some people don’t know for sure whether women’s football is truly “worth it.” But “We keep pushing”
Like many of her peers, she dreamed of playing professionally for leading clubs and one day donning the national team jersey.
She added, “I also want to be a part of something bigger.” There is no limit to what we can do.
Source: Aljazeera
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