Text Lina Soualem | Photography Pegah Farahmand
I still remember how I felt when I saw Imane Khelif win the gold medal at the 2024 Summer Olympics in Paris, my hometown, becoming Algeria’s first female gold medalist in boxing. My friends and I were in Marseille at the time, watching the event unfold on our phones, and when she won, the whole city – one that’s full of Algerians – broke out in joy.




Beyond the gold medal, what stayed with me most is the image of Imane clutching the Algerian flag atop her trainer’s shoulders while Algerian cult classic “Abdelkader” blasted in the background, lending the soundtrack to her victory at Roland Garros. The song has enveloped my childhood and continues to touch my adult life, so hearing it again in that context was somewhat surreal. And all of this was happening in France, the country that colonised the homeland of our families, a country in which we still struggle to find our place as the children of North African immigrants. I felt indelibly represented as a French-Algerian-Palestinian woman.
Fast forward two years, meeting Imane for the first time on a cold Monday morning in Paris for this interview was deeply emotional. To start, she was generous in the way she agreed to share her experience as a boxer, an Algerian woman, and someone part of a larger history—a struggle for independence that spanned 130 years.
During our conversation, Imane referenced her mother as a role model, and I wondered whether she was aware that she’s a role model for so many young women worldwide, or whether she was conscious that she has become a legend in Algeria, a land of struggle and resistance. Algerian women have always stood out and will continue to do so, and Imane is proof. Subjected to abuse and persistent scrutiny since her win, she has been plastered across news outlets because of the World Boxing Federation, which will only allow her to compete at the 2028 Summer Olympics if she agrees to genetic sex testing—games set to unfold in Trump’s xenophobic America, no less.
As a Muslim, African, and Arab woman, the crusade against Imane is even more sutured to systemic racialisation. Hers is one case against countless attempts to stereotype women into neat caricatures that read in the familiar twos: helpless or exotic and, above all, never liberated. Imane, like the Algerian women she descends from, stands in absolute refusal of this army of ideologues. As we discussed everything from food and language to womanhood and her connection to her homeland, it became clear that she manages to thrive in a world that she seemingly wasn’t destined for.
Lina Soualem (LS): I want to divide our conversation between three core identities: you as an athlete, as a woman, and as an Algerian. The one I’d like to start with is your Algerian identity, which is also a common thread between us. Who is Imane Khelif, the Algerian? What is Algeria to you? And how would you define your relationship with Algeria?
Imane Khelif (IK): Being an Algerian woman is a badge I am proud of, especially because Algeria is a land of struggle and resistance. We see how Algerian women made sacrifices and fought for the independence of their country; they’ve been part of the struggle for more than a century. I believe this is what made us Algerian women always stand out—whether in sports, culture, or science. As an Algerian, it is what gave me, and always gives me, this sense of distinction.
LS: Where did you grow up?
IK: I grew up in a village about four hours from Algiers, around 350 kilometres away. It’s in the province of Tiaret, about 10 kilometres from Tiaret town centre, with only one football field and about 100 houses. Nothing else. That village brought me good, I always say to myself. It’s small, but I had friends there, and everyone knew everyone. I’m still connected to it; I still visit, and my relationship with it is still strong.
LS: How do people treat you when you go back now? Has something changed?
IK: Of course, there is a big change. Everyone in the village now recognises me—they even recognise my car. They know when I arrive, whether I’m alone or with people. Everyone wants to come say hello and talk to me, and I love them, too.
LS: Is your family still there?
IK: No, my family now lives in the centre of Tiaret town. They left the village. They tried living in Algiers, the capital, but they didn’t like the noise and traffic. They prefer a quieter life in Tiaret, but we still go to the village because we have relatives there. I also like going back to relive memories. When I remember my origins, I remember how difficult it was to start from a place where there was nothing that could give me hope to succeed, so I feel my achievements even more when I return. I actually feel the steps I’ve taken, the important things I’ve done. It all comes back when I return to the place I came from.



LS: You’ve previously addressed the fact that when you were little, you had to sell bread in the street and collect metal and plastic to make money. Despite the poverty and hardship, what are your most marking childhood memories?
IK: I used to play football, and my father loved it. We had sheep at home, and I was responsible for their care, but I’d go play football when I was supposed to graze them. My father would come check on me and find me playing while the sheep were on their own. I was scared he would scold me, but when he saw me playing, he would smile and say nothing.
I have many important memories from my childhood that I’ll never forget. I used to play football with the boys, and everyone in the village knew when I had a match. They’d all come to watch me. They saw that I wasn’t like the other girls, that I had something special. I was very mischievous. I used to fight with the boys and, every day, people would knock on my father’s door to complain.
LS: Were the boys afraid of you?
IK: Yes, they were afraid of me back then, but that’s all in the past now—and it makes me laugh when I remember it. We also had beautiful days in spring when we would go pick flowers, apricots, and peaches because it was an agricultural village and everything was available.
LS: It sounds like beautiful nature.
IK: Yes, pure nature. We lived completely in nature, with fruits and flowers and sheep and fresh milk. I used to milk cows myself, in fact.
LS: My mother led the same life in her native Palestinian village—she had goats and used to collect olives with her sisters on my grandfather’s land.
IK: We didn’t have olives in my village.
LS: Right, olives are more in the region of Kabylia.
IK: Yes, olives are in Kabylia, Tizi Ouzou, Béjaïa, and also Mascara near Tiaret. In my village, you’ll find fruits, wheat, and barley.
LS: Do you remember the first time you went to a big city?
IK: As a child, I used to go to the centre of Tiaret, a very old and historic city known as the city of the Rustamids. It is one of the oldest cities in Algeria, along with Constantine and Algiers. We have heritage sites and caves that show how ancient it is. I used to go there for shopping, walking around, and watching football matches—it was a normal life. The first time I really left Tiaret was because of boxing. After only two months of training, I was selected and travelled to Tlemcen in the west of Algeria.
LS: Oh, I love Tlemcen! It’s beautiful, the site of Sidi Boumediene is particularly breathtaking. Were you there for boxing?
I was there for a national championship. I had only been boxing for two months at the time, and was scared to go because I was afraid of losing. If I lose, the whole village will hear about it, I remember thinking. I wanted to train more before competing, but my coach said, “You’re just going to be with the team and see how things work out, you won’t fight.” When we arrived, however, I insisted on fighting and won. It was my first national championship in Algeria, and I won. I made friends there, and other boxers from different provinces were astonished, asking, “Who is this girl and where did she come from?”
LS: So Tlemcen is very important to you.
IK: Yes, Tlemcen was my first real step in my boxing career.It’s beautiful, and its people are very kind.
LS: And they have amazing harira and bourek!
IK: Yes, the food in Algeria is good everywhere.

LS: When did you travel outside Algeria for the first time?
IK: My first trip outside Algeria was to Italy, where we had a layover on the way to Bulgaria.
LS: So it was to Europe.
IK: Yes, it was for my first international tournament, a preparatory competition for the 2018 World Championship in India. The whole team lost in the first round, except me. I won my first match, then lost the second. It was my first time competing abroad, and my first year in the senior category.
On the way back, I lost my passport. I thought I’d left it on the plane during the stop in Italy. The police searched everywhere, but couldn’t find it. My teammates returned to Algeria, but I was stuck alone in Rome without a passport. They even talked about deporting me permanently, which would’ve meant I could never go out of Algeria! But thanks to the Algerian embassy, the Ministry of Sports, and my coach, I was issued a temporary document so I could return home. And then I cancelled my old passport and got a new one. It was a very shocking first trip.
LS: How did you feel the first time you came to France?
IK: The first time I came to France, I didn’t feel very far from Algeria. [laughs]
LS: Because there are so many Algerians?
IK: Exactly, especially in Paris. I felt at home in Paris—the same atmosphere, the same vibe as Algeria. I always felt surrounded by Algerians, my people. I also spent a lot of time in Nice, in the south of France, which is only about an hour by plane from Algeria.
LS: We should go to one of the Algerian restaurants in my neighbourhood when you come back. There are some really good ones.
IK: Yes, we’ll go and cause chaos! [laughs]
LS: Being Algerian often comes with confronting our history, especially in a place like France. I’m reminded of my grandparents, the subjects of my first documentary film, Their Algeria. They separated after 62 years of marriage, which came as a shock and sparked my desire to make the film. I didn’t understand their separation. No one explained it to me. And their silence troubled me. I knew they moved to France in the 1950s, but I didn’t know how they lived through migration, so I picked up my camera to understand what had happened. Through the film, I finally realised that behind their silence was not a secret but deep suffering—this silence exists in many Algerian families. Making this film was vital for me to reconnect with my identity and for my family to reconnect with their past. How was Algerian history taught in your family?
IK: I learned about Algeria at school, and I’m always discovering new things about it. Its history is extremely rich and deserves to be part of world history. I learned about it through my studies, my own reading, and also through representing Algeria as an athlete. When you represent your country abroad, you are its ambassador, so you must know your history and be patriotic. You must know where you come from.
LS: Absolutely. The new generation needs to know what happened in the past in order to move forward.
IK: Unfortunately, the new generation does not know much about Algerian history; they only know it superficially.
LS: That’s why I wanted to know how you learned about Algerian history. In my case, I had to make a film. It was vital for me to understand my family’s role in the history of Algeria and France, where I was born, so that I can better understand my position in French society and its historical links with my country of origin.
IK: Thank you for this film, I will watch it. Personally, I feel that I know Algerian history because it is deeply linked to my sense of nationality.

LS: Did you talk about Algerian history at home?
IK: Yes, for example, when my uncle came to visit, we would talk about Algeria during the time of French colonisation. My grandfather fought for freedom during the war of liberation. We used to talk about what he went through with my father and uncle along with what I had learnt in school. We would discuss what Algeria needs, what it should preserve, and what it should move beyond for the sake of the country.
LS: Palestinians often say that if Algeria can gain independence after 130 years of colonisation, then Palestine will also be free.
IK: Of course. The Algerian War was one of the most violent wars in the world—there were more than 1.5 million martyrs. We say ‘1.5 million’, but let’s try to actually imagine it. It is impossible to imagine. It was so brutal. So much sacrifice. Today, Algeria is the land of free people.
LS: Algeria won the fight for freedom, and you inherited from that victory and from that strength. That’s why you always win.
IK: Look, you are also Algerian, so you know. Our blood is hot, fiery. If someone is oppressed, we embrace their cause like it’s ours. That is how Algerians are. When it comes to Palestine, we know it is suffering, so we are with Palestine every day. The relationship is not random; it is one of dignity and strength. Algeria never abandons its principles, so for us, Palestine and Algeria are one.
LS: You speak Darja [Algerian Arabic]. What is your relationship with the language? Did you learn Fus7a[classical Arabic] in school?
IK: I love speaking Arabic. Many people don’t realise how difficult it is; it is one of the hardest languages. To speak it properly, you must read a lot. Speaking Arabic feels natural to me, like a gift from God. I also speak English. I lived in Miami for two years preparing for the Olympics, and improved my English a lot. But I always prefer to speak Arabic because it’s my mother tongue and the language of my soul.
LS: It allows you to better express your feelings.
IK: Exactly, in Arabic, I speak from my heart. In English or French, I can communicate, but in Arabic, I truly feel what I say. It is a very difficult language, but it is my language.
LS: Now, I’d like to move to your second identity as a woman. What does being a North African woman and/or an Arab woman mean to you? How do you define yourself?
IK: The Arab woman, in general, is not exactly ‘oppressed’ but limited in many ways: in freedom, in dignity, in personality. There is always something missing. And when a woman is both Arab and African, she faces even more injustice. Personally, as an Arab and African woman, I have experienced pressures and discrimination that made me go through some of the hardest moments of my life. There is definitely a difference in how the world treats an Arab African woman compared to a western woman. Many people see us as ‘less’ rather than our strengths or complexities, and I’ve seen this clearly through my own experiences.
LS: What about your experience as a woman in boxing and sports?
IK: In boxing, being a woman means you must give up many things. As an Arab African woman, I wanted to show who I am, as Imane Khelif: the woman, the girl, the daughter. I am 26 years old, but I still feel like a child. I am still growing, still learning, still wanting to live life. Some people exploited me during the Olympics and even before—they spoke about me without knowing my history, my roots, or who I truly am. I faced many hardships, and I always wanted to show my real self, my inner truth.
I chose boxing and chose to be successful in it, and that is not easy because it’s seen as a ‘men’s sport’. I challenged society, the world, my family situation, my social reality – everything – to prove who I am. Becoming an Olympic champion did not happen overnight. It came after years of sacrifice, tears, sleepless nights, discipline, and family support. And even after winning, there was a global polemic around me that became political. My story is simple, but politics turned it into something much bigger than it really was.
LS: I heard that many girls in Algeria are now registering for boxing. You’re a role model for them.
IK: There was definitely a big change in women’s sports in Algeria after the Olympics. I don’t say this disrespectfully to other champions, but my story inspired girls far more than I ever imagined. Today, boxing gyms in Algeria are filled with girls, sometimes even more than boys, which is incredible for a sport traditionally dominated by men. This is an honour for me and proof that determination can break any barrier. It motivates me to continue because I know that so many young people are looking up to me.
LS: You have become a role model, but who is your role model?
IK: Honestly, I can’t pinpoint a single role model. I simply draw lessons from my mother, but there are several people I admire, like Angelina Jolie—the way she tries to help children, like me. I am the UNICEF National Ambassador for Algeria.
LS: Since you mentioned your mother, I’d love to reference my second documentary film, Bye Bye Tiberias. This one’s about my Palestinian family. It tells the story of three generations of daring Palestinian women, the women of my maternal family – my mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother – who carry their memory through the power of their relationships with each other. Despite the great loss and exile they experience, each has taken destiny into her own hands and passed on to their offspring a new meaning of resistance. What did the women in your family transmit to you?
IK: My mother was an orphan; she grew up without a father or mother. She struggled a lot in life and was treated unfairly as a person, as a girl, as a child. Her story, how she lived as an orphan, how she dealt with difficulties—it’s very personal for me. She is the role model who has influenced me the most. And she taught me that patience is necessary in life. This is something I learned from her: that you must be patient, fight, and believe that after patience comes relief. And I always remind her to stay strong because I’m following in her footsteps. Sometimes, I stay silent because silence can be both a healing and an answer. This is the main lesson my mother taught me.
As for my maternal grandmother, I didn’t live with her and don’t really know her story. And my paternal grandmother died when I was very young, so I don’t remember her well. However, my aunt Yamina – my father’s sister – taught me many things. I lived with her for a while, and she made me see life differently. She was like the leader, the one who made decisions, the one everyone respected and feared. She’d say, “You must do this.” And I would reply, “Okay, Auntie, I’ll do it.”

LS: Let’s now move to your third identity: athlete. You are well known worldwide after winning the gold medal at the 2024 Summer Olympics in Paris. Do you remember how you felt on that day, in that moment?
IK: I will never forget those moments. Any athlete in the world dreams of becoming an Olympic champion, of standing on that podium. Even winning bronze or silver is already huge because the scale of this competition is beyond imagination. In Paris, especially with everything that happened – the polemic and the debates – hearing the Algerian national anthem play while I stood with the gold medal was an incredible feeling.
From the very first day I entered the Olympic Village, I had a strange feeling that something big was going to happen. During the opening ceremony, we threw flowers in the place where Algerian martyrs were killed by the French police here in Paris on 17 October, 1961. I can’t even describe that moment. But the final fight and the gold medal ceremony are events I will never forget.
LS: I rewatched videos of you winning the gold medal yesterday as I knew I was meeting you in person today. When you won, your coach lifted you on his shoulders, someone from the audience handed you an Algerian flag, and the song “Abdelkader” started playing on the speakers. It made me cry. Did you choose that song?
IK: No, I didn’t choose it. I was so overwhelmed with joy. Here I am, I thought to myself. I’ve won an Olympic gold medal. As for my coach, he’s the one who discovered me in Tiaret and brought me from my village to the city to train, who lived all my hardest moments with me. He was with me when I won several competitions, like the Mediterranean Games, but he never carried me. He always said, “When you become an Olympic champion, I will carry you on my shoulders.” And he kept his promise. The song was pure coincidence, I only realised it when I watched the video later.

LS: Let’s talk about the future. How are you today, and what are you focused on now?
IK: My family and I experienced a huge psychological shock after the Olympics—my mother even ended up in the hospital. We’re not used to such things, having a relative become the subject of a global controversy. The whole family was shaken, so I decided to take about a year of rest after the Olympics. I wanted to think, to breathe, to decide whether I would continue boxing or take another path. After that year, I returned to training with my team. I train regularly and monitor both my mental health and physical strength.
Today, I feel that I must continue my career, write a new chapter, and protect myself. I love boxing, and I want to return to the ring, but not just any ring. I want a stage that represents me, my spirit, and my identity. I have several projects that I hope to announce soon. People will see many new things about Imane Khelif by the end of 2026. I will return to boxing soon, God willing, but from a stronger position.
LS: What are your days like now since you travel so much for training?
IK: I’m juggling several activities, especially charitable work in Algeria as a UNICEF ambassador. I also participate in conferences, forums, and events in Algeria and abroad. I train at different camps with different teams, moving from place to place, always focused on delivering high-level performances. I travel a lot, and I’m currently spending more time outside Algeria than before. Qatar, France, Saudi Arabia, Belgium—I’m constantly on the move.
LS: You don’t go to Miami anymore?
IK: No, I prefer not to go to Miami these days.
LS: Because of what happened with Trump? His tweet about you?
IK: Not just that. I don’t feel comfortable going to the US at the moment. I want to protect myself and avoid situations that are beyond my control—the atmosphere there is not something I want to be part of.
LS: What is your lifelong dream?
IK: To be successful and, above all, satisfied with myself. When I grow older and look back, I want to feel proud of what I’ve accomplished in sports and in life. I want to be a living example of success that does not fade with time. That is the most important thing for me.
LS: After the Olympics, you said that the whole world “challenged” you. Is there anything you would like to say to the world today?
IK: I don’t really have a message for the world—it changes every day anyway. I believe that a person must impose themselves onto the world, not wait for the world to accept them. I don’t like to talk too much and I don’t like gossip. I’d rather stay focused on my goals, my dignity, and my identity as a strong and ambitious woman who fights to achieve her dreams.
Originally published in Dazed MENA Issue 05 | Order Here
Set designer FÉLIX GUESNOUIN, make-up MEGUMI ITANO, hair SEBASTIEN BASCLE, manicurist LILLY LIZÉ, creative producer FATIMA MOURAD, production 1718 PRODUCTION, producer ELISA THERRIAUD, production assistant BAPTISTE REIBELL, runner PIERRE BERONIE, photo assistants JEAN SÉBASTIEN BUBKA and CINDY TEBOUL, digitech CHRISTOPH STIEBER, styling assistant TINE KOZJAK, set design assistant ELIJAH DEROCHE

