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Chapatis & feminist dads

Marva Kreel hasn’t let sexism stop her from pursuing her dream…

Chapatis & feminist dads

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Marva Kreel

I can still picture waiting outside White Hart Lane. Getting my hands on my first ever match day programme. Tangibly feeling that pre-match buzz that surrounds the stadium and tickles your heart with nervous anticipation.

It was April 3rd 2002 and I had been waiting for this. I knew I was Everton—I had decided that a few years prior—but seeing your team actually play in front of you… it feels like the first real step of being a proper football fan, even if it was only an FA Youth Cup game—an initiation of sorts. My dad supporting Spurs, my brother supporting Everton. Our differing allegiances already creating a friendly but very real divide. 

Seeing a wonder kid score two incredible goals—remember the name—and hearing the Spurs fans around us murmur in disappointed admiration. Witnessing Everton concede a goal and noticing your heart hit your stomach for the first time. My newfound royal blue blood pulling me into this exciting community that would become such a big part of my life. It set me on my footballing journey, and none of it would have been possible without my dad.

I often explain my love for the game as a combination of my brother and dad being football mad and my mum's commitment to overturning gendered stereotypes. But that’s only partly true and misses a big part of the story. My dad’s feminism was just as important too. 

He is a cultured man. Known for his incredible record collection and love of fine alcohol and cheeses, he spends most of his free time doing the food shopping to then spend hours in the kitchen cooking up an extravagant feast on a Monday night after work. Because if you’re making your family recipe of a rich Bengali mackerel and aubergine curry, then you simply have to make a warm, soothing daal. Oh, and fresh greens tossed in chilli and mustard oil, as well as some variety of curried potatoes. You always need potatoes. Also, the chapatis—freshly rolled out and charred on an open flame. A standard Monday.

While my mum is a great cook, in my house, traditional gender roles were uncommon. My mum is the only one in the house who can drive. And don’t give my dad any flatpack furniture to build—that’s mum’s job. In fact, she and I often find ourselves immersed in deep, angry discussions about the patriarchy and what women have to go through, and just as we’re onto minute 17, Dad will come through the kitchen door having finished the washing-up and place a delicious homemade dessert in front of us.



As I grew up, it became clear that my experience was not necessarily the norm. And no place showed me the extent of sexism outside of my home more than football did. Jesminder Bhamra from Bend It Like Beckham was one of the only female sporting idols available at the time, and that film meant the world to me because, by the age of 7, I already knew I didn’t belong in football.