MEET ZAMZAM FARAH
Olympian, refugee & extraordinary athlete at London Marathon
LESS than a year after running round the Olympic Stadium in August 2012, the cheers of 80 000 spectators ringing in her ears, the Somalian 400m runner Zamzam Farah was living on the streets of London. Unable to return to her home country because of threats to her life, barely able to speak English, hungry, cold and terrified, at just 21 years old she was adrift in the capital.
This was not the Olympic legacy she had imagined.
“I was so scared,” she says, the tears falling. “So, so scared.”
Four years on and things are looking altogether brighter. Thanks to the intervention of a small, fleetfooted organisation called the Running Charity, she is now a legal resident in Britain with a job and a roof over her head. And today she is joining 36 000 others on the starting line of the London Marathon.
Farah’s extraordinary story began in Mogadishu. Growing up in the warscarred city, gunfire an ever-present soundtrack, she found comfort and release in sport. She was very good at it, too, joining in neighbourhood games of football. But as she grew into a teenager, she found herself the centre of a local storm. This is a country where growing Islamic fundamentalism insists on restrictive rules for women, which she was challenging every time she kicked a ball.
Not everyone in the city was discouraging. When she was 17, she met a coach called Ahmed Ali. After she won an International Association of Athletics Federations-sponsored national competition, she began to take her athletics seriously. Or at least as seriously as was possible in Mogadishu.
“We didn’t have a proper track, just sand marked with whitewash for races,” she recalls.
What is more, her coach was also targeted by fundamentalists. “It was tough for him. He was getting [into] trouble because he was coaching a lady.” But, she says, “my coach always said it doesn’t matter how talented you are, if you don’t have discipline you won’t win. He liked my discipline.”
And so in August 2012, as national champion, she was chosen to represent Somalia in the Olympics.
“Sport people were really proud of me and supported me,” she recalls. “But a lot of people didn’t like to see a woman running. They said it was a disgrace.”
She ignored the frothing misogynists and headed out of Africa for the first time in her life, to London. The Somali team were not the largest in the athletes’ village, consisting of just her and a male 1500m runner.
As for the racing itself — she had the time of her life. “The crowd, it was mind-blowing. When the race started I hadn’t heard the gun because the noise was so loud . . . I came last but I was the one they cheered, more than the one who won.”
Shown around the world, the interview, however, brought her unwelcome prominence. That evening, there was a knock on her door. It was a representative from the Somalian Olympic Committee telling her threats had been made against her life. She was advised not to go home.
Three days after the closing ceremony, when the athletes’ village shut, she found herself cast out, alone. “It was scary, hard, not knowing where to go, what to do. I felt guilty, I felt confused. I was cold all the time. I didn’t speak that much English, not knowing anyone. I didn’t even have a pound for a bottle of water.”
Back in Mogadishu, her parents were obliged to move four times after they, too, received threats. Their daughter too was constantly on the move, ducking and diving on London’s streets.
Eventually, she found her way into a hostel. Which is where she came into contact with the Running Charity. The organisation that uses the power of running to help homeless and vulnerable young people had no idea that she was an Olympian. Until, that is, they saw her running in one of their weekly training sessions.
“I didn’t tell people I ran in the Olympics.” she says. “I didn’t want people to think I was showing off.”
Now, thanks to the charity’s support, she lives in shared accommodation in Wembley, has a job in a shop and is working to build sufficient capital to bring her parents over from Somalia.
London is just the start. “My plan is to do a lot more competitions. Everything is step by step. But I believe I can do it.”
Given what she has been through, it would be unwise to bet against her.