In most cases, the birth of a child is a celebration. It is an opportunity to rejoice in the excitement of what that child will be or could become – that child is a gift. But when I was born, my family cried. They cried with sorrow and they cried with fear. Because those, like me, born with a disability, are not perceived as a gift or as special, they are considered different. In many parts of the world, different is not considered a good thing: it can even be perilous.
I was born in Afghanistan with no arms. As a child, while my family supported me, the world around me did not. I was seven when this realisation hit me – my life was going to be different. I was bullied at school and made to feel inferior. It was only when I discovered swimming that I finally felt accepted. The water made me feel safe, and it was swimming that made me feel alive; it also made me realise that even with my disability, I had a gift. That’s when I set out on a journey that would break down barriers and show others that people with disabilities can be active and can fulfil their potential.
At 16, those goals were challenged when I left Afghanistan. While I felt safe in the water, I did not feel safe in my country and needed to leave. In that moment, I became one of more than 12 million disabled people forcibly displaced around the world by persecution, violence and human rights violations.
As a person with a disability, my journey to safety was going to be especially challenging. I knew and understood that people with disabilities may be at heightened risk of discrimination, exploitation and violence, and face numerous barriers to accessing humanitarian assistance. While the journey was challenging, it was swimming that kept me going. At every point and in every refugee camp, I would find a swimming pool. And each time, I would be reminded of feelings of worth, acceptance and respect.
Last year, I competed in the Tokyo 2020 Paralympics as a member of the International Paralympic Committee’s (IPC) Refugee Paralympic team. The obstacles I overcame to achieve this are for many people unimaginable; this was my opportunity to represent and advocate for the inclusion of people with disabilities – 15% of the world’s population.
I felt the power and the importance of representation. It was time for the world to see what people with disabilities – including refugees – can achieve when they have the right opportunities.
I was heartened that at last month’s global disability summit more than 1,300 commitments were made to people with disabilities; pledges and efforts to improve the way people such as myself are included in education, health, social protection and livelihoods.
With the summit and the Winter Paralympics due to open in Beijing on 4 March, it’s unquestionable that we’ve progressed. But we still have a long way to go. Until our rights are fully respected and protected in an inclusive society, people with disabilities will not have the same opportunities to contribute and progress.
My family believed in me, but if it wasn’t for them I would not be where I am today.
It’s time we lived in a world that when a person with a disability is born, their family cries tears of happiness and excitement for the opportunities they will have and the people they could become. The most important commitment the world can make is to respect and accept people with disabilities.
-
Abbas Karimi is a refugee Paralympic swimmer and UNHCR supporter