The Paralympics and re constructing disability

My experience with disability has been from other people. It was first from a close relative who was struck with polio as a very young child, who was shunned, whose style of walking was mimicked by others, but who grew up to be the smartest of her siblings and who now runs a school and is married with kids.

I remember when I was told that she ran a school, and that she was married. I recall my surprise, closer to shock than anything else really.

I consider myself to be embracing of the different packages in which we navigate the world, with some coming in what we might call “whole” packages, limbs and brains intact, others coming in packages different from what we might consider “whole,” bearing the label disabled. So, I have since pondered that intense surprise, and wondered where it came from.

It could have come from the fact that her family was not particularly well to do. It could have come from the fact that, as far as I knew, her siblings did not lean towards academic brilliance. Or, perhaps, it sprung from my failing to understand in some remote part of me that her disability did not prevent her from being academically smart, entrepreneurial, and ambitious.

My other experience of disability was through my mother. On our way home to the village from Enugu, she would stop to chat with veterans who had lost limbs in the Nigerian Civil War. They had been forgotten by governments, received little or no pensions and had not been trained for any other jobs that would permit them some independence. They sat at the side of the highway, close to Oji, waiting in their wheelchairs for those who were touched to stop and give them some financial assistance. They were always happy to see my mother who had been an auxiliary nurse during the war.

Looking back at it now, they were still quite young, some not even middle-aged. They often looked cheerful, spending little time bemoaning their fate, or unfulfilled government promises of full rehabilitation.

The just concluded Paralympics has been an opportunity to reflect on my own attitudes to disability, societal constructions of disability in Nigeria, and what it means to be disabled in this country. The level of competition was extremely high, as high as the Olympic competitions. Many of us would be out of breath just imagining doing some of what these athletes do.

Our own athletes at the Paralympics have shown us the ability in disability and the fruits of tenacity and determination. They have hauled in medals, the same medals that (it must be said) eluded us completely at the Olympics. What a contrast to our general ideas of disability, often rooted in the realities of the disabled in Nigeria – poor, typically illiterate, unable to help themselves or anyone else.

Individually and as a society, we are still too accepting of the fact that the disabled belong on the streets, that mental disability is an insurmountable disaster, that developmental disabilities must elicit pity and little else. Our communities, churches, schools, and the corporate world remain very much seeing, hearing, walking environments – very little exists to make those are who lack these abilities welcome or allow them to cope easier.

We are still a long way from seeing the disabled with eyes that see their inherent value as humans; and their need for dignity as much as the “able.” We are still far away from showing empathy but not pity, inclusion and not exclusion, rights and not merely charity. We remain un appreciative of the human rights angles to disability and knowing that this means a level playing field of opportunities, especially for those who come from poor families.

From the angle of leadership and government, far too little resources have gone to addressing the needs of people with different disabilities. Support services for the disabled are as much a figment of the imagination as a smart phone was in 1980. For example, wheelchair users in Nigeria know that our updating of our infrastructure in different areas still does not include wheelchair access. The mere idea would be laughable to many, especially in our rural areas, and yet here we are in the 21st century.

From the perspective of law and policy, disability rights are still not even clearly articulated in law or policy. Over the years, two disability rights bills have been introduced into the National Assembly. But disability rights legislation, like many proposed health legislation, remains in limbo. Nigeria has yet to ratify the United Nations Conventions on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities. Discrimination and other human rights violations remain rife.

Several advocacy groups have sprung up and have been working in recent years to promote social inclusion of the disabled. The result is a number of reports and studies on living with disability in Nigeria. Still, more work needs to be done with respect to societal education, human rights protection, support services, and inclusive development of infrastructure.

Our medals at the Paralympics should say something to us; especially when we think of our performance at the Olympics this year. Our disabled are human, defined not only by their disability. Our disabled are valuable, able to make significant input in nation-building. Our disabled are part of us, demanding human rights protection and facilities and opportunities that allow them to live fully.

(2012-09-14/dailytimes)