Review: "My Beautiful Sisters" by Khalida Popal

My Beautiful Sisters by Khalida Popal
Published May 2025 via Citadel Press
★★★★

In 2021, the US withdrew forces from Afghanistan. The Taliban immediately seized control—and Popal, who was by then living outside the country, immediately began receiving text messages, phone calls, voice notes. She'd once been the most visible face of women's soccer in Afghanistan, and now her former teammates—and the next generation of players—knew that the Taliban would be closing in on them too. They were desperate to get out.

As I started reading this, I remember thinking that it would be purely a story of Popal's attempts to help get these girls and women out of the country before doing so became impossible, perhaps with a bit of her own story sprinkled in; I thought "I wish she'd also written a book about her own experience". But then I kept reading—and this is Popal's story, and it's both devastating and damning.

Growing up in Afghanistan and (during the Taliban's earlier takeover) Pakistan, Popal had it better than many girls of her generation: her parents valued education and independence. They encouraged Popal to speak her mind; they were happy for her to play soccer and develop her leadership skills and push boundaries over and over again. They had their limits, but those limits were based on what they knew of the danger of society rather than on what they thought Popal should be allowed to do.

But better is not easy. Popal describes a world in which if men scaled the walls behind which girls played—walls supposedly there to protect them—and those men hurled abuse at the girls, the girls would be in the wrong. A world in which the girls could trust nobody, not even each other, because there were no mechanisms in place that actually protected them, and anyone who stepped outside the boundaries of convention in even the smallest of ways was assumed to be a deviant in every other way possible—and thus not worthy of protection in the first place.

The strides Popal made with women's soccer when she was in Afghanistan, despite all the barriers she came up against over and over, are incredible, but even then she knew they wouldn't be allowed to last. I said this book was damning, and I meant it: she calls out policies that meant that American soldiers in Afghanistan could shoot to kill when anything threatened them, even if that "threat" was simply an unarmed girl taking a photo with her phone; she notes that FIFA could take a stance by simply not allowing the Afghanistan men's team to play internationally if there is no corresponding women's team—and funding and support for that women's team—and FIFA has chosen instead to bury its head in the sand. And: refugee processing centers that did not understand that just because women had rights in one country did not mean that they were afforded those same rights in their home country, or that a lack of documentation could be a result of having to flee and flee again, or of that same documentation (e.g., proof of playing on a women's soccer team) posing a mortal danger back home.

There's so much frustration here, but Popal is clear-eyed—she knows how multifaceted the problem is, and how short attention spans are. Another crisis occurs, and the world's attention shifts. She's really good about bringing in her teammates' stories and realities while maintaining their privacy; even when individuals have gotten out of the country, their family might remain, and remain in danger. There's hope in here, but there are limits to the happy endings; go in with your eyes wide open.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.