Disabled people in Pakistan – daring to dream

4 minutes, 31 seconds Read
Today is the International Day of Persons with Disabilities, and I would like to talk about two disabled people I know well – my mother and a young lady, Khansa Maria Imitiaz, whom I met some years ago.

I would like to talk about their achievements and their struggles. However, the purpose of the article is not to idolise them, or praise them for their successes despite all odds. Rather, it is to point out how hard it is for disabled people to overcome social biases and social structures in Pakistan, and how this prevents thousands of disabled people from achieving their full potential.

First, I would like to talk about my mother. She was brilliant, a scholarship student at the top educational institutions in Bombay (St Xavier’s School and Sydenham College). She was one of the first women to do the MCom. She was then snapped up by the Research Department of the Reserve Bank of India, where she met my father, got married and moved to Pakistan in 1947.

My mother had chronic problems with her eyes and became completely blind when she was around 40. Overcoming the physical and emotional traumas took some time, but soon thereafter she was back at work. She was active in the Pakistan Montessori Association, eventually becoming the vice president, as well as in the Pakistan Association of the Blind. But, the best part of her energies was devoted to the establishment of a school – the Karachi Academy for Blind and Handicapped Children – where the objective was to allow disabled children to study side by side with others

However, as soon as the school became a reality with some 1,000 students, it became the target of jealously and envy. In 1972 it was taken over by the Government under the nationalisation drive of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto. This was despite repeated petitions to the Sindh Education Department, and pleas to the Education Minister, that the school should not be nationalised. We argued that it was a special institution, catering to disabled people, and required special management skills for recruitment of specialised teachers and use of international best practices – skills that the Education Department simply did not have.

These petitions and pleas were of no avail. The school was taken over, and my mother was basically driven off the premises by some lowly Government and police officers. It was heartbreaking to see her treated like this. She died not long after, but left me and my siblings with a huge sense of loss, not just because we lost our mother, but also for the country that she voluntarily chose for her own and for which she wanted to do so much.

The second person I want to talk about is Khansa. She has been blind since birth but this did not stop her. She was a top student of Lahore Grammar School, one of Pakistan’s premier educational establishments; a graduate of Georgetown University; and a Rhodes Scholar at Oxford, where she has completed an MPhil in Development Studies and now in the final stages of a doctorate. In recognition of her achievements, she was awarded Tamgha-e-Imtiaz, one of Pakistan’s highest civilian awards.

Khansa agreed that I would write an article about her for the International Day of Persons with Disabilities. However, when I sent her a partial draft, she came back with a question: Why are we writing this?

The question made little sense to me. I had planned to write about her achievements, her successes and the obstacles she overcame. The idea was to present her as a model.

However, when we discussed how to proceed with the article, Khansa pointed out that just highlighting her achievements would give the wrong message to disabled persons. It would suggest that if she could succeed, others could as well. And, if they did not achieve as much as she did, it was because they did not put in the necessary effort. This was precisely the message she did not want to convey.

The message she wanted to give was to society as a whole – to those who were responsible for the teaching and nurturing of disabled children, to offices and businesses that were in a position to provide job opportunities for disabled adults, and to public and private institutions that set the legal and regulatory framework for disabled people. And the message was: let’s create an environment where disabled people achieve their full potential, and make sure that every disabled child in Pakistan is given every opportunity to develop themselves and succeed as in whatever way they wish.

At our last meeting, we discussed her experiences in Pakistan, where she had spent a year conducting fieldwork for her Doctoral thesis. We talked about her main findings and conclusions, about how activities outside the classroom influence the cultural and social profile of young people, about the education of disabled people, and about how much more could be done to help our youth achieve their full potential. She was at pains to point out that this required a change in mindset rather than simply more money.

We also talked about her plans and ambitions, and how she would like to work on policy and strategy – not just for disabled people but for all the youth of Pakistan. One can only wish her the best of luck and make sure she does not meet the obstacles and indifference that broke my mother’s heart.

Similar Posts