In a small, dimly-lit cabin in Kurdistan, northern Iraq, 15-year-old Zhiyan Yousif takes a moment to bend over and catch her breath. After a few seconds, she is upright again, a determined look back on her face. She is here, on a warm November morning in Essyan refugee camp, to fight.
Ten or so other girls form an orderly queue behind her, chatting excitedly. They take it in turns to duck and weave, dancing around one another to the steady rhythm of their boxing instructor’s shouts of “jab!”, “cross!”.
