Why Kazem Panjavi Stepped Down
This page exists so people can understand my decision without rumours, phone calls, or misunderstandings.
I did not step down suddenly.
I did not step down because of athletes.
And I did not step down because I stopped caring.
I stepped down because continuing would have meant losing my integrity, my health, and my peace.
This Was Never About the Lifters
Let me be clear first.
My decision was never about the athletes.
I am proud of every lifter I coached — youth, juniors, seniors, masters, women, beginners, refugees, and those who simply came to be stronger and healthier. Many of you trusted me with your children, your bodies, and your ambitions. That trust meant everything to me.
Even at my final competition, I saw commitment, loyalty, and genuine support. Some people could not attend the competition but still came to the Christmas dinner and AGM just to say goodbye. Some came while unwell. That is real community.
Leaving coaching was not a rejection of you.
The Weight of Responsibility
For many years, I carried almost everything myself:
Coaching and programming
Competitions and equipment
Safeguarding and refereeing
Administration and funding applications
Council communication and crisis management
Competition days often meant 24 hours without proper sleep, barely eating, constant pressure, and responsibility for everyone in the room. When people dropped out late, when officials didn’t reply, and when costs still had to be paid, the pressure did not disappear — it landed on me.
Over time, this became unsustainable.
When Some People Turn Unkind (Expanded)
We are often hurt most by the people closest to us — and that pain usually cuts deeper than anything else. I believe many of us have similar stories to tell. To be honest, I have had more than my share. At first, I thought it was just part of the job, but over time I realised it had become part of my life.
When I pushed people hard in training — often adding extra sessions — that was my job as a coach. Yet I received unkind words for it. And when I could not, or chose not to, give more than I already had, some showed a bad attitude. Some had high expectations for things they did not deserve. During my most stressful days, they asked for unnecessary and selfish things, then attacked me for not being “the same,” or accused me of being rude.
When I pushed them to improve, instead of appreciating it, they became upset and said words I did not deserve. For a long time, I simply accepted it, moved on, and ignored it. I learned to let things go.
But what hurt most was the lack of loyalty and basic respect.
Imagine people who ate your food, sat in your space, trained in your club, and benefited from your time and energy. Some learned everything they could — technique, programming, competition preparation, even how to speak to lifters and motivate them. Some came into the club like shadow coaches, watching closely, copying methods, warm-ups, systems, and structure — then taking the same approach elsewhere. They later became people with responsibility and influence, and when the time came, they quietly turned against you. The question is: why?
I have seen my coaching style and school-based development model spread — taken into schools, repeated through other organisations, and even turned into national-level plans. The painful part is not that the system grew — I always wanted weightlifting to grow — but that the people who took from me often gave nothing back. No credit. No partnership. No respect. No opportunity. No protection. No benefit for the work I built over many years.
Instead, some smiled in front of me and spoke kindly, but behind my back they talked against me, spread stories, and tried to damage my name. They needed to make me look wrong so they could look right. They needed to make me look “difficult” so they could look “professional.” They needed to make me look “arrogant” so they could look “humble.”
They burn you — and when you finally start shouting, complaining, or defending yourself, they use it as “evidence” that you are arrogant or a difficult person.
The truth is, when some people want to leave, they only need a small excuse — and sometimes they do not even need that. They simply need to make you look bad so they can look good, innocent, and justified.
That is when a coach begins to feel the poison — not from training, not from hard work, but from disrespect, betrayal, and being used. That behaviour is one of the reasons I lost my motivation and patience.
My History With Ealing Council
Since 1999, I have supported Ealing Borough through sport:
Coaching for London Youth Games for many years, often for free
Supporting other boroughs as well, including Hounslow, Hillingdon, Harrow, and Hammersmith
Youth and school development — often unpaid, driven by community need
Producing many British champions and British record holders
Bringing gold, silver, and bronze medals (British and English level) to the borough through my athletes
Running sessions for youth, juniors, women, older adults, and refugees
Community always came first — not profit.
Yet in the past two years, I have faced continuous obstruction:
Endless planning permission delays
Building regulation barriers
Refusal to move a telegraph pole needed for safe expansion
Equipment left outside and damaged
So many emails ignored
No meaningful response from councillors, MPs, or even after attention reached the London Mayor
All I asked for was a small extension, not luxury — to run a project that could have supported over 1,000 children through schools: the Gladiator Project.
The work was done.
The plans were ready.
The need was clear.
But the door stayed closed.
My Experience With British Weightlifting (BWL)
I have served the sport in the UK since 1996:
As an athlete
As a coach
As an official
As a volunteer
As an educator
I returned with the intention to help, not take.
Instead, I experienced:
Being welcomed, then slowly pushed away
Contributions ignored
Experience treated as a threat
Offers to help reframed as problems
Public humiliation instead of private conversation
I never asked for free holidays, clothing, or status. I asked for fairness, respect, and acknowledgment of work.
When respect disappears, passion eventually follows.
The Cost to My Health and Family
The final truth is personal.
The stress affected my sleep, my health, my family life, and my ability to enjoy coaching. My family supported me endlessly — refereeing, organising, cleaning, and standing beside me when I was exhausted. They saw the toll before I admitted it myself.
When the people closest to you pay the price, it is time to stop.
Why I Stepped Down
I stepped down because:
One drop of poison can damage an entire system
I could no longer give from an empty place
Staying would have meant becoming someone I am not
Leaving was the only way to protect my integrity
This decision was not weakness.
It was responsibility.
What Remains
I leave with pride in what was built.
I leave with gratitude for those who stood by me.
I leave without bitterness — but with clarity.
Good people still exist.
Real loyalty still exists.
And I was lucky to see it clearly at the end.
Thank you to everyone who trained, lifted, helped, challenged, and supported me over the years.
— Kazem Panjavi
