Score |
219
Student, Artist and Writer @ Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria
THROUGH A CLEARER LENS✨
<p>Living with a disability in Nigeria is not just about the body it’s about the environment constantly reminding you that it wasn’t built with you in mind. From cracked sidewalks that mock wheelchairs, to public offices where accessibility is treated like a luxury add-on, disability here often feels like an afterthought. But the hardest barriers are not physical. They are social. They show up in the stares, the assumptions, the way people talk about disabled persons instead of to them. Ability is often measured by how closely one can perform “normalcy,” and anything outside that narrow box is misunderstood, pitied, or ignored.</p><p>For the Deaf community especially, silence is not the problem exclusion is. Many Deaf Nigerians are locked out of basic services: hospitals without interpreters, schools without support, media without captions. Communication becomes a daily negotiation, a quiet fight to be understood in a country that speaks loudly but rarely listens. Learning sign language, for me, is a refusal to accept that gap. It is a way of saying access matters. It is choosing to meet people where they are, instead of demanding they constantly translate themselves for the world.</p><p>I am learning sign language not because disability needs fixing, but because society does. Language is power. It opens doors, builds trust, and restores dignity. In a country where disability is often seen as weakness, learning to sign feels like resistance soft, intentional, and deeply human. It is my way of contributing to a Nigeria where inclusion is not charity, but a standard.</p>
|
61
Other insights from Nomshu Writes✨
Referral Earning
Points-to-Coupons
Insights for you.
Comments