Fram reports
Raneem: When the Cheering Fades, What Remains
In case you missed ‘Raneem Retired’
Before the trophies, before the rankings, before history recorded her as the first-ever Egyptian woman to reach world number one in any sport, Raneem El Welily was, above all, a thinker. Even as a player, she was already observing the game — and herself — from a distance.
As we sit in her kitchen, she gives me my nth cup of Earl Grey – exactly as I like it. Of course. Raneem always makes sure she makes everybody around her happy. Sometimes, she forgets herself in the process…
“It’s been a long time,” I start. What, last interview was…
5 years ago I guess, when she retired… I still remember THAT phone call, during COVID.
“Fram, I’m pregnant, and I’m retiring”.
I couldn’t speak. She was world number one, for crying out loud. Who retires when number one??? Well, Dame Susan Devoy, Jonathan Power, and Raneem El Welily…
“It’s been a long time,”she repeats softly. “Very long.”
What she doesn’t miss comes easily…
As one baby, Murad, is sleeping upstairs – we have the babytalk next to us – the other (not that baby anymore) Shahir is playing in the next room with Melissa Alves, who often comes and stay at the house.
What don’t you miss, I ask… She doesn’t think long.
“I don’t miss the footwork sessions. The grind. The pressure. The days when you sit on the couch worried that your backhand drive wasn’t accurate — and you look back now and think: how was this my main issue in life?”
Today, her worries are different. Smaller. Bigger, too.
“My issues now are trivial as well — potty training and stuff like that,” she smiles.
Looking back at the tour, she doesn’t romanticise it. Instead, she watches the next generation with concern.
“I look at some of the Egyptian girls now and I see how miserable they are. And I ask myself: why are they doing this to themselves? Was I that miserable?”
She pauses.
“I don’t think we were miserable. The pressure was there, yes. Dark moments, heavy weight on your shoulders. But not this.”
What she doesn’t miss is the repetition.
“Wake up. Practice. Breakfast. Rest. Lunch. Rest. Match. Over and over. When I went back and saw it again, I realised — nothing changed.”
Never again…
There is a moment she describes as particularly painful — not losing, but accepting. Accepting that part of her life, being the Butterfly, the Enigma, is over.
“Knowing that I can’t play at that level again was very hard. Heartbreaking, actually. Going on court and not being able to do the same things.”
“I still go on court sometimes. I found joy playing again, somehow.”
What do I miss…?
She even misses the strangest details.
“I’ve never been to the Specter Center,” she laughs. “And I’m thinking — what does it look like? Where do players walk in? Walk out? Why would anyone miss that?”
And of course..
“The big stages. The big matches. The crowd. Playing enjoyable squash.”
Fear, failure — and freedom
I’ve been in Raneem’s life for 20 years and counting. I’ve seen her lose. I’ve seen her cry. I saw her despair, so many times, through the courageous smiles. Among the hardest memories, one stands out.
“Losing the World final for the second time against Nour El Sherbini in El Gouna.”
It wasn’t just the loss — it was fear.
“I was terrified of stepping on court. I didn’t play. And I didn’t like myself in that image. Crying before a match.”
But I saw her shines. I saw her win. I saw finally letting the Butterfly (her Egyptian nickname) soar and fly away. The contrast with her greatest moment couldn’t be sharper.
Her third World’s final.
“Winning the Worlds, for sure. Manchester. That was the best mental state of my entire career. I was calm. Relaxed. The complete opposite of terrified. If I could replicate that feeling, I would be very happy.”
Building up Mental Strength
PSA nicknamed her the Enigma for a long time, then they changed it. I didn’t. She is still the same mystery to me. Like Ramy Ashour. I know them rather well. And yet, I don’t know them at all I feel.
She used to dominate matches in 20m, or lose them in 20m. A bit like Shabana at the start I guess? So she stopped, and thought hard. In that process, someone helped I believe. Ahmed Faragallah.
For years, she believed her mental side was her weakness.
“I was daydreaming a lot. I couldn’t multitask. I hated structure.”
And yet, she learned.
“I found ways to organise my mind. To be in the moment. By the end of my career, I think I was a master of this.”
Ironically, her weakness then became tactical.
“I wasn’t always quick to adapt. It took me time to read what my opponent was doing.”
What ultimately carried her, she insists, was not talent alone.
“My discipline got me where I got. And my team. I hated routines — but I needed them. Without them, I wasn’t confident.”
Motherhood: joy, panic, perspective
If her getting pregnant made a lot of us cry – sorry, but we are a few that shed a lot of tears when we heard we would never see Raneem on court ever again – pregnancy, she admits, was bliss…
“I had no worries in the world. I was at the top of the world.”
Then reality hit.
“Everything fell apart. I was a complete mess. Panic. I had no idea what was going on.”
Not depression, she clarifies — panic.
“I wasn’t mentally prepared. At all.”
Motherhood challenged her in ways squash never had.
“I like privacy. I don’t like having someone around all the time. I want my own bubble.”
In a culture where help is the norm, she chose control instead.
“In Egypt, everybody has got a nanny. I didn’t want one. It may be a burden sometimes, but I’m happy doing it. I just don’t like having people in my home that much in fact.”
I have to admit, that one made me smile. I never came to their house and saw only Tarek and Raneem alone.. Blesssssss.
Interestingly enough, what she misses most from her playing days is not the fame.
“It’s the freedom of being worried about yourself only.”
Legacy, kindness — and what matters
When asked how she hopes to be remembered, her answer isn’t about titles.
“Being remembered as a nice person. It should be a given. But it’s not.”
Well, she clinched 4 “PSA Spirit Award” in a row, till she retired. That one, so’ted.
She’s so honest about her imperfections too.
“I was tempted by cheating, by blocking at the beginning. I made mistakes. But I tried to be better. Trying is enough. It leads you to the right path”
And now, two kids later…
As for the future, the door remains ajar.
“I said no way to coaching. Now… the door isn’t completely shut.”
I remember when I let people believe that Raneem might be coaching in Gouna three years ago. She got so many messages asking her to put them on her list… “You proud of yourself” she laughed… Yes, I was…
Today, she wants to stay connected.Quietly. Thoughtfully. On her terms.
Sportsmanship. Humanity. Respect. Talent. And grace.
“So many happy memories.”
Oui, Raneem. So many….
