Gaza Boxing Women: Punching through war, trauma and displacement


Videos of young girls punching fiercely into a boxing bag, their bare feet kicking up sand between rows of refugee tents, go viral every time. But they capture more than just exercise in an unlikely setting. For the young girls and women aged 5 to 25 at Gaza Boxing Women , their sport symbolises a deeper resistance and defiance to exist on their own terms. "Boxing liberated a part of me," says co-founder Rima Abu Rahma , who discovered the sport aged 21 in 2020, and persuaded male boxing coach Oussama Ayub to train her. "It made me feel like I had ownership of my body."

What began as friends training together evolved into Gaza's first and only boxing space for women, challenging societal stereotypes that deemed the contact sport inappropriate for women.

After their club in Gaza City was destroyed by the Israeli military in 2024, some of the members reunited with their coach in southern Gaza.

Now they train with almost no equipment, amid hunger , aid blockades , limited shelter and carrying immeasurable trauma and loss . Yet they continue to box. An unexpected beginning "I wasn't a very sporty person," Rima, now 27, admits to The New Arab . Wanting to feel stronger, she searched for women's boxing in Gaza and found Oussama, who was then coaching only younger children.

"I wanted to box, and this was seen as radical. When my parents realised I wasn't joking, they were really supportive," she says. "Papa got me my first punching bag."

Oussama, surprised and hesitant to train Rima, initially refused. "You know how society is, and how people view such things," he tells The New Arab . He eventually agreed, insisting that training should be within a group. Rima's sister and friends soon joined to share coaching costs, convincing more parents and sceptics worried boxing would make the girls "look like a man". The group grew to 45 women, and so did Rima's visions. With local funding for female entrepreneurial projects, she secured a venue. Others donated gloves and a kit. "We set up fees for women who could pay, subsidising those who couldn't," Rima says. "It was really beautiful… a kind of women's solidarity and positive volunteering." But then came the backlash.

After photos of the Gaza Boxing Women circulated on Facebook, intense resistance from religious groups followed. "They were cursing us and threatening us," Rima recalls. "They threatened to burn down the club or harm us."

Years of isolation and siege had taken their toll. "When a society is cut off for so long, extremism and hatred for anything different develop," she explains. "And the burden falls on women."

In the face of intimidation, they engaged community leaders and worked to normalise the sport. "Little by little, we started becoming normal." Displacement, death and destruction In October 2023, Rima had just finished studying in France and was visiting Egypt when Israel's genocide began. She remains unable to return.

Many women from Gaza Boxing were able to evacuate to the south. But others weren't so lucky. "A dear friend was killed in the first two weeks, and so was my cousin. Then we lost three of our club members — two were shot in their home with their father — as well as one of our coaches," says Rima.

They later saw photos of their club. "It was completely destroyed, like it was ashes."

But their dreams lived on, and it wasn't long before Rima heard the group wanted to box again. Punching through despair Displaced in Rafah, Oussama was among the hordes of families taking shelter in the university's classrooms. "Some of the girls knew me and asked if I could train them again — I immediately agreed," he tells The New Arab .

"It was a way to stay resilient and bring a sense of normal life into our days," Oussama says. On the first day, 50 girls showed up. With no gym, he improvised. "I trained them using my hands and pillows as substitutes for a punching bag," he says. Now they share one punching bag and ten pairs of gloves between 40 girls. They rotate between drills in a makeshift ring drawn in the sand. They desperately need training gear, but entry of sports equipment remains blocked by Israel . "People have sent me equipment, but the occupation returned it at the crossing," he says. Yet the sessions continue — three times a week, two hours a time, driven by girls' "determination and will," says Oussama. Redefining resistance Their reunion is about more than fitness — it's become a channel for processing grief.

"Many of the girls have gone through extremely difficult situations. Some lost their mothers, fathers or siblings," Oussama says. "They tell me that focusing on the exercises relieves them, instead of constantly thinking about painful events."

When the UN declared a famine in Gaza , Rima and Oussama raised funds to look after their community. "One girl wasn't punching well — she hadn't had a meal for three days," Rima recalls. They committed to providing one good daily meal — at the time, it was just rice, lentils or pasta, but it helped sustain them.

While access to food has slightly improved, they say, fresh produce and meat remain "very expensive or unavailable." "Our love for training kept us going," 16-year-old Rahaf Oda tells The New Arab .

"I feel like I'm with my family here. I feel an incredible amount of energy and strength."

Another member, Remas Ayoub, describes how boxing has transformed her. "I used to be shy and withdrawn," the 15-year-old says to The New Arab .

"Being around the girls has helped my personality grow. I feel stronger now." Their 14-year-old teammate, Remas Oda, adds, "The girls are like my sisters. We support each other and stand together."

Perhaps most heartening is the sight of parents gathering to watch their daughters train.

"Their presence shows how much they care," Oussama says proudly. For now, Rima, Oussama and the girls continue to hold onto dreams of freedom — to travel, compete and train in a proper gym. In Gaza, where hope has been systematically broken, strength, power and resilience can be found drawn in the sand. Yanar Alkayat is a health and fitness editor for the national press and a registered Yoga Therapist Follow her on Instagram: @yanarfitness

Published: Modified: Back to Voices