“Prabin, (name changed), go and give ten rupees to the men disturbing us with their loud music. They never care whether people like it or not.”
This was the remark I overheard from a seemingly educated woman in our neighborhood, directed at a person with a disability who was singing last Saturday. Her words reflect a broader societal attitude—one that dismisses the abilities of differently-abled individuals, ignoring their potential in countless areas where they may even surpass those without disabilities.
Tracing the history of disability perceptions takes us back to ancient civilizations like Mesopotamia, Greece, Egypt, and Rome, where religious beliefs dominated explanations for physical and mental differences. Disability was often seen either as divine punishment or an opportunity for charity. Scholars like Mel Ainscow and Russel Johnson, known for their work on inclusive education, argue that these archaic views still linger in traditional societies today. Johnson, in his seminal work Health and Disability, notes how religious doctrines historically excluded people with disabilities from mainstream life. For instance, early Jewish traditions viewed disability as God’s punishment, while Christians saw it as a chance for charity and spiritual merit.
With medical advancements, these myths gradually faded, but new challenges emerged. The medical model framed disability as an illness or deficiency, shifting the focus toward treatment rather than inclusion. Today, policymakers and global stakeholders recognize inclusive education as essential for ensuring equality, yet societal attitudes remain slow to change.
Nepal’s constitution explicitly guarantees fundamental rights to all, regardless of physical or mental disability. Article 42(3) affirms that people with disabilities have the same rights to dignity, self-respect, and access to public services as anyone else. Yet, in reality, little has changed in how they are perceived and treated. Why does this gap persist? Some may blame lingering religious biases, while others point to inadequate policies that fail to empower them.
The truth is simple: when given equal opportunities and support, people with disabilities thrive. I’ve witnessed firsthand how learning sign language can transform a person’s ability to engage with society. Globally, figures like Nick Vujicic (a limbless motivational speaker and author), Andrea Bocelli (a blind singer who sold over 75 million records), and Nepal’s own Hari Budha Magar (a double above-knee amputee who summited Everest) prove that determination and opportunity can break any barrier.
The media also plays a crucial role in reshaping perceptions. The Oscar-winning short film The Silent Child portrays how a deaf girl, Libby, flourishes with proper sign language education, despite her family’s low expectations. Similarly, Sitaare Zameen Par (a follow-up to Taare Zameen Par) humorously yet powerfully depicts how a basketball coach trains a team of players with disabilities, showing that patience, tailored guidance, and belief in their potential lead to extraordinary progress.
The lesson is clear: with the right support, people with disabilities can achieve greatness. Inclusivity, a core tenet of our constitution, must move beyond paper and into practice. Only by recognizing their capabilities and providing meaningful opportunities can we truly build an equitable society.
