Dancing Between Dreams: Two Women’s Stories at ChangeNOW 2025, Paris
A young Afghan breakdancer and an anti-corruption advocate from Vietnam shared more than tears — we shared courage, vulnerability, and a strong commitment to change.
The Encounter That Stayed With Me
Three weeks have passed since the ChangeNOW Summit in Paris — yet some moments still live vividly in my heart, as if they happened just yesterday.
The event brought together an inspiring array of changemakers, each carrying their own powerful story. But it was Manizha’s story that stayed with me the most. Her courage, vulnerability, and resilience left an indelible mark on my spirit — reminding me of the power of hope, and the importance of standing up for what we believe in.
Her Story, Her Strength
Manizha Talash is a breakdancer originally from Kabul. She fled Afghanistan in 2021 after the Taliban returned to power. She had been selected as a member of the Refugee Olympic Team for the Paris 2024 Games. At ChangeNOW, she spoke on the panel “Beyond Borders: Advancing Rights and Opportunities for Migrants and Refugees.”
She shared her journey — the joy of discovering breaking, the struggle to pursue her dream in a country where dancing is forbidden for women, the bravery it took to be the only girl in a male-dominated crew in Afghanistan, and the heartbreak of being disqualified from the Olympics.
I found myself completely undone.
She recalled the moment she had the world’s attention:
“I had one minute. But I had two choices — to promote my dream, or my country’s?”
She chose the latter.
Wrapped in a cape made from a burqa, emblazoned with the slogan
“Free Afghan Women” she took the global stage. The burqa — often seen as the ultimate symbol of Afghan women’s oppression — became her banner of resistance.
It was a deeply symbolic act of solidarity.
But the Olympic Committee saw it differently. The cape was deemed a political statement. She was disqualified.
Still, she sat before us. Her voice was trembling, but unwavering — filled with heartbreak and fierce dignity.
I cried — not just for her, but with her.
When Stories Collide in Truth
After her talk, I approached her. She said she had seen me crying.
We hugged. We wept. And in a few brief sentences, I shared my story too — a story of standing up for what I believed in, and facing the cost of it.
As the founder of
Towards Transparency, Vietnam’s first anti-corruption advocacy organization, I had devoted more than a decade to building a team, leading initiatives, and empowering others to speak truth to power.
But when the political winds shifted, I had to make an impossible decision.
I shut everything down — my team, my dream, my voice.
It was a silent heartbreak I carried for a long time.
In that embrace with Manizha, it all came rushing back — but not as pain.
As recognition.
Two women, worlds apart in age and origin, united in shared goodness and grief.
We had both made sacrifices for a cause larger than ourselves.
And we had both kept going.
Leadership, Redefined
Manizha’s story reminded me of something I wrote in my recent reflection ahead of ChangeNOW:
👉 Leadership Redefined: Women Rising Together
“Women leaders today are not replicating the past. We are redefining leadership on our own terms. With emotional intelligence, a spirit of collaboration, and strength forged in adversity, we are charting a new course. We lead with vulnerability, not as a weakness, but as a source of power that deepens our connection to others and fuels authentic transformation.”
Her experience wasn’t merely personal testimony — it was leadership itself, redefined:
• Rooted in values, not visibility.
• In truth, not titles.
“In my country, it’s forbidden to dance,” she had said. “I had to explain to everyone that breaking is a sport.”
“My actions at the Olympics were not political — they were about basic human rights.”
Hearing those words, I recognized the very essence of leadership: The courage we need more of in this world — from refugee dancers and nonprofit founders to each of us rising through our own storms.
A Final Reflection
Manizha may have been disqualified from one stage, but she has stepped into a far greater one — the kind that inspires others to rise, to resist, to reclaim their voices.
And in her story, I saw my own. In our tears, there was healing. In our shared silence, there was truth.
And in that moment, we danced — not with our feet, but with our hearts.
We both continue to carry hope — not only for ourselves, but for all those still finding their voice.
What About You?
Whose story has awakened something in you lately?
What silent dreams or quiet courage are ready to rise in you?
May we keep dancing between dreams — and never stop rising.
✨🌧️
“I believe in the magical power of women who dance in the rain and rise above life’s storms.”
✨🌧️
