Khadija (27) is interested in painting, music and food. In Austria, she likes to eat langos and Wiener schnitzel with potato salad. Her boyfriend lives in Berlin. Khadija would like to say to her former self: »Stay strong, don't give up!«

Place of birth
Ghazni, Afghanistan

Education/occupation
Optician

As a child, I was rebellious. Perhaps I would have given that up later on. In Iran, it was normal to marry early, have children and stay at home. I didn't want that. That's why I worked independently as a hairdresser. Girls there married from the age of twelve. People said, »If a girl turns 20 and isn't married yet, you should cry for her.« They worry that men won't want her anymore.

     I was born in Afghanistan, but grew up in Iran. We got nothing there. Any second, someone could have shut down my hairdressing salon. My brother was arrested twice. In October 2015, I came to Austria with him and his family.

     I waited three years for my asylum decision. It was difficult because I didn't know where I belonged or whether I would be allowed to stay. It was like living in a bubble. I went to school and started to build a new life for myself, with everything that goes with it.

»That was difficult because I didn't know where I belonged and whether I would be allowed to stay.«

I wasn't allowed to travel or work. When I received my asylum decision, I was able to start my apprenticeship. I work as an optician at Pearle.

     I didn't want to work as a hairdresser anymore because I wasn't as physically fit as I used to be. I tried out several different professions: photography, fashion, dental assistant. But when I did my internship at the optician's, I thought to myself: this is the right thing for me. I deal with customers and work in the workshop. I like that. And I have the opportunity to continue my education.

     In ten years, I would like to be professionally independent. Whether I have a small restaurant, a café or an optician's shop: the main thing is that I can work independently for myself again.

     I joined Kicken ohne Grenzen in 2016. At the time, I was living in a shared flat for young people in the ninth district. The carers told us about the club. I took a look and was immediately enthusiastic.

»The main thing is that I can work independently again.«

 
I always had the cliché in my head that football was a man's game. I wasn't particularly interested in football. But then I really enjoyed it. At first, the lads were sceptical about whether women could play football. Now they've accepted it.

     Kicken ohne Grenzen isn't just a football club – you make friends here, feel safe and get motivation.
You can also go there when you're feeling down. Every time I'm there, I can recharge my batteries.I have particularly fond memories of the tournament in Copenhagen. I had also been to a tournament in Poland before, where the competition was so fierce... The other teams were so physically strong that you were constantly ending up on the ground.

     In Copenhagen, it was completely different. It wasn't just about winning. There was a different energy. There were only women's teams. Men always take everything so seriously, women want to have fun. It was really cool. Everyone was extremely happy, there was music, we danced. That's a nice memory.

     My dream is to travel around the world and live on a remote island. People always talk about how things are better elsewhere. I want to see that with my own eyes. I want to get to know different cultures and people. Then I want to decide where I want to settle down. I don't know how realistic this dream is. Maybe I'll really do it. Who knows? As a child, I didn't know that I would be here one day either.

»You can also go there if you are feeling unwell.«

Fotos: Karo Pernegger
Interviews: Birgit Riezinger

Diese Geschichten wurden im Rahmen des 10-jährigen Jubiläums von Breaking Grounds protokolliert.