Sport Gives Confidence

The Corvinus Parasport Day welcomed the wheelchair fencing team, which won a world championship gold and a Paralympic silver last year. Éva Hajmási, Boglárka Mező, and Anna Nádasdy participated in a public discussion to answer our questions. Another core member of the team, Zsuzsanna Krajnyák, who has won 13 Paralympic medals, was unable to attend due to illness. The conversation was led by Kinga Molnár. 

How did you come across wheelchair fencing, and what life circumstances led you to it? 

Boglárka Mező: I started fencing 13 years ago while studying at the law faculty in Debrecen. One of my professors mentioned that a wheelchair fencing program was starting, so I went to check it out and immediately liked it. I’ve been using a wheelchair for 20 years—my injury resulted from jumping from a building. 

Anna Nádasdy: I was a standing fencer before, but after developing bone cancer, I transitioned to wheelchair fencing. 

Éva Hajmási: In 2008, I was in a scooter accident that led to the amputation of my leg. I heard about wheelchair fencing from Pál Szekeres (Olympic bronze medalist and three-time Paralympic champion in foil and saber). I started in 2010 and have been training in Kőbánya ever since. 

Your stories show incredible strength and perseverance, but a supportive environment is also crucial. Who makes up your support system? 

B.M.: My family is the most important—when I lived in Debrecen, my parents and sibling were my main support, and after moving to Budapest, my husband took on that role. My club and my training partners are also very supportive. 

N.A.: My family comes first as well, but I also consider my coaches part of my support system. They were there for me during my illness and still help whenever I need them. 

É.H.: Besides my family, my friends played a huge role in supporting me, even during the most challenging times. My daily life changed drastically, but they continued to invite me to events and activities just like before. They never excluded me or pitied me, saying things like, “Poor Évi has a prosthetic leg.” 

Was there a specific moment or phrase during your recovery that gave you strength? 

É.H.: I didn’t have a single defining phrase, but my loved ones’ unwavering support and my inner strength meant that giving up was never an option. 

N.A.: While I was sick, what kept me going was the thought that one day, I could return to fencing. I often think back to the day my treatment ended—I came home to a surprise from my entire team holding a huge sign that read, “We are proud of you, Anna!” That moment still gives me strength. 

B.M.: I don’t recall a specific phrase, but my family’s continuous encouragement made a difference. They kept telling me not to give up, and alongside their support, I had an inner voice pushing me forward. 

We are in an academic setting, and all of you have pursued higher education—Anna is still studying. Where did you study, and how did you balance it with elite sports? 

B.M.: I decided early on to study law—before I even started using a wheelchair. When I was accepted into university, I was lucky that it was accessible. I discovered fencing during my university years, but at the time, it was just a hobby. Later, it became much more serious. 

N.A.: I’m currently a first-year student studying recreational lifestyle and health promotion. I’ve always wanted to stay in the world of sports, so this path was clear for me. Balancing studies and sports is manageable, and in addition to my training, I also coach young athletes. 

É.H.: My accident happened during my college internship. I was studying tourism and hospitality, and back then—about 10-15 years ago—it was a big deal to get an internship in a five-star hotel abroad. My scooter accident happened at the end of my internship, and I had to reconsider my career path—how could I be a server, running around all day with trays, with my injury? I ended up working as a receptionist while continuing my studies and sports. I believe that higher education and elite sports can be balanced, but adding a full-time job makes it very challenging. 

Bogi and Évi, do you have other careers outside of sports? 

B.M.: I worked for eight years in law enforcement, and now I serve as a municipal representative in Gyál. 

É.H.: A regular job wouldn’t fit alongside elite sports for me right now. I constantly work on improving myself and focus on making the most out of my sports career. 

Do you feel you had to prove yourselves more because you are women, wheelchair users, and parasport athletes? 

É.H.: I’ve always had a strong desire to prove myself—not to others, but to myself. I set goals, work towards them, and feel proud and grateful when I achieve them. I’ve received amazing opportunities through sports, and I haven’t just taken part in them—I’ve achieved results. 

B.M.: I agree. The most important thing is proving to ourselves that we can do anything. I never saw myself as different, so it’s hard to answer a question like this. I’ve always been surrounded by people who never made me feel like I was any less. 

When you perform in front of an audience, you represent more than just yourselves—you advocate for diversity. Has this ever been difficult? 

B.M.: The biggest challenges as a wheelchair user aren’t about representation but accessibility. Some buildings are impossible to enter, or getting somewhere requires much more logistical planning. 

N.A.: Performing in front of an audience was never difficult, but I struggled with accepting my new reality. I had to come to terms with the fact that I could no longer run, jump, or live the same way I did before. But now, I feel like I’m living a full life. 

É.H.: Self-acceptance was key for me too. My condition changed, and my leg won’t grow back—I had to make the most of my new situation. I don’t feel any less of a person because my body image has changed. My grandmother used to say that we are actually worth more in a way because we face extra challenges in everyday life. And she’s right—we have to put in extra effort to do the same things as anyone else. But when we achieve even more despite that, it sends a powerful message. 

Given all this, do you relate to each other differently as teammates compared to able-bodied athletes? 

B.M.: Our disabilities aren’t a focus within the team—we often forget about them ourselves! Sometimes, I accidentally roll over Évi’s foot with my wheelchair, and we just laugh about it. Or Zsuzsi (Zsuzsanna Krajnyák, the fourth team member) forgets that I can’t reach something and then suddenly realizes, “Oh, right, you’re in a wheelchair!” 

É.H.: I can’t really compare since I never competed in standing fencing as an adult. As a kid, I did karate with two of my best friends in a great environment. I believe that sports naturally bring people together, especially when they share a common goal. 

What does sport mean to you? 

B.M.: Confidence. It helps me believe in myself. 

N.A.: For me, sport is life itself. Even when I was sick, my biggest wish was to come home and hold a fencing foil in my hand—just to strike the training pad once. I feel at home and at peace in the fencing hall. 

É.H.: Sport means perseverance and resilience. If you work towards your goals and see results, it’s an amazing feeling. Of course, not every goal is achieved, but elite sports have already given me so many beautiful experiences.