Goodson Nsanje was born with a deformity which affects both of his legs. He can walk courtesy of leather pads which he attaches to his knees, but day to day life for him in Makwatata is a struggle, largely because of the discrimination he has experienced for most of his life.
He was a small boy when his parents moved from their home in Makwatata to the Copperbelt in search of work. “My parents were extremely poor, and they could not afford to send me to school because I had special requirements as a disabled boy. They sent me to live with the Sisters of Charity, and they raised me,” he says.
“I received a lot of support from the Sisters. They provided me with an education, and they also guided me spiritually, helping me to accept my disability. They taught me that I was created by God, and I must love myself the way I am. Sure, I was jeered by some people when I was growing up, but I also had a lot of friends,” he says. “I was quite sheltered.”
In many ways, Goodson was lucky. The vast majority of disabled children in Zambia don’t ever go to school, and can suffer from exclusion and abuse from a very early age, even by their own families.
There is no reliable data on the number of disabled people in Zambia. The government has attempted in the past to establish statistics through the national census, but the responses to questions posed about disability are subjective because of the social stigma attached to being disabled.
When he was 20 years old, Goodson’s parents moved back to Makwatata, but they were still unable to support their son, and he went to live with the friars of the Chikungu Mission 2km from Makwatata. With the help of Brother Henriot, a missionary from Germany, Goodson secured a place on a tailoring course at St Anne’s Cathedral Training School in Chipata, which caters for both disabled and non-disabled people.
“After I completed my course, the Sisters gave me a sewing machine so I could move back to Makwatata and start making some money for myself. I was happy, and started looking for a woman to marry,” he says.
“I wanted a woman who was also disabled. Word began to spread, and soon a man came to visit me to say that he had a sister who was also looking to get married.”
Leya Njamini had lost the power in one arm and one leg several years previously when she contracted polio. She was of a similar age to Goodson, and doing the tailoring course in St Anne’s that he had recently completed. They got on well, and were married shortly after meeting in 1987.
“Her parents never asked for a dowry from me,” says Goodson. “They were good people, and knew I couldn’t afford to pay. They said ‘God has blessed us that our daughter has found someone special, and we will be rewarded in heaven.’”
The couple had four children together, but as the years went by, it became harder and harder for them to support themselves financially. “The sewing machine made us very little money. We buy second hand clothes in town and remake them into new clothes, but there is little profit in this,” he says. “I approached the church again for help, but they said there was nothing else they could do except pray for me.”
Poverty and disability are closely linked in Zambia, and also self-perpetuating. Poor maternal health, inaccessibility to preventive or curative services, and dangerous work environments make poor people more susceptible to disability in the first place.
Lack of access to adequate healthcare and exposure to unsafe environments can compound disability, and thus exacerbate poverty as the disabled person’s ability to make an adequate income to support themselves is reduced. Disabled people are less likely to attend school or be employed, and are therefore more likely to become and remain poor.
The cycle between poverty and disability is also fuelled by social discrimination, stigmatisation and exclusion. Many, especially disabled women, suffer from sexual abuse, and are often not allowed to marry.
Like every other member of the community, Goodson also has to farm to support his family. “I grow maize and groundnuts on my own small farm for my family to eat, but it is a big challenge doing such physical work as a disabled person. I had to start piece-works on other people’s farms to make some extra money, but in my condition, they pay me less than half what they would pay an able bodied person for my day’s work.”
A couple of years ago, Goodson approached a Muslim businessman to see if he wanted help on his land. “He recognised my plight and became my sponsor. He has supported me and my family since, and helped me to build my house. I don’t know where we would be without him.”
The vast majority of disabled children in Zambia don’t ever go to school, and can suffer from exclusion and abuse from a very early age, even by their own families.
“Locally, there is nobody who supports me. I have some friends here in Makwatata, but there are also a lot of people who exclude me and my wife because they think we are not equal to them.”
Goodson says that discrimination is by far the biggest challenge he faces as a disabled person. “There is a lack of awareness in the community about disability,” he says. “For example, when people come to the village to talk about HIV, or development projects, we are not invited to the meetings.”
Disabled people are commonly excluded from development programmes, as they are often unable to contribute the finances, labour resources or time which many of the schemes require, and they are also often viewed as unreliable debtors for credit programmes.
He also believes that disabled people from rural areas have less support than those living in the city. “In the city, people can become members of organisations like the Zambian Council for the Disabled, and join their special business groups making furniture and things like that, but there are less opportunities for us in the countryside.”
Goodson is determined to change the situation for disabled people in Makwatata and the surrounding villages, and is the current chairperson for a local branch of the Zambian National Association for Handicapped Persons. The branch has 57 members, six of whom live in Makwatata. They have registered with the government as an official group, and meet once a month at his home to give support to one another and discuss their business plans.
“We have just finished moulding bricks for a pig pen, and we already have 12 chickens,” he says. “I hope we will be able to make some money together in the future, but for the time being it is good to spend time together.”
