CHENNAI: 1,2,3…300. Every day, 23-year-old Divya Selvakumar counts the steps from her house in Chetpet to the Metro station, boards the Corridor-2 line to Vadapalani, counts 100 more steps, and reaches her workplace. “I know the exact number of steps it takes to reach different places including our local supermarket, the park and the pharmacy. Sometimes when there is a deviation, I tend to get lost and during such instances, people have always lent a helping hand.
They hold my stick and navigate me to my destination. But with the lockdown, I haven’t been able to travel anywhere. Even if I do, I don’t think anyone will hold my hand or my stick because of the safety protocols, and I am scared to touch any surface. It’s been 90-odd days since I stepped out. I tried going to the vegetable store once but I could feel people were being impatient. It takes time for me to touch, feel and understand what I am buying and figure out the price and expiry date.
It made me anxious… so I stopped going out,” says the data entry operator working at a small-scale HR firm. Reliance on the goodwill of strangers has now become challenging and worrying for Divya.. “Being at home round the clock has affected Divya. She is hyperactive and has always found joy in working, stepping out and running her errands. Now, confined to the house, she feels suffocated and stepping out makes her anxious.
It’s a paradoxical situation,” says a worried Pabitha Selvakumar, Divya’s mother. While the horrors of the coronavirus have caused daily difficulties for everyone, what about the millions of visually impaired Indians, who, like Divya, rely on touch to communicate, navigate, and care for themselves? With touch becoming one of the common ways for the virus to spread, the ramifications of the seismic shift caused by social distancing seem far more disturbing for the blind and the partially sighted, who will now have to operate in the outside world with little to no human guidance.
Dented opportunities
For Selvi A, an MA and BEd English graduate, who has been on the lookout for prospective employment opportunities, the virus has dented her chances of bagging any job for at least the next six months. Hailing from a hamlet near Kalpakkam, Selvi has always dreamed of donning the role of a lecturer at a university. The alumna of Little Flower Convent School for the Blind says, “I am without a job since December 2019. I have been looking for one, and even had a list of schools and computer centres where I could apply. Because of the lockdown, I have neither been able to step out nor reach out to anyone.” Over the last three months, Selvi has been spending her time conducting free English language classes for children from her alma mater and curating general knowledge quizzes over WhatsApp. “I am also preparing for UGC NET exam. I don’t know what the future holds for me but now, it seems tough and uncertain,” she shares bleakly.
No income
It’s been almost three decades since Kannan, a person with visual impairment (which was a result of the chickenpox virus), made Chennai his home. Not for a day since then has he had to depend on others for sustenance but now, the 40-something-old who used to sell snacks, stationery and trinkets on the trains that run in the Tiruvallur route, is forced to wait for help to arrive for his family’s day-to-day survival. “My income used to be anything from `200 to `300 per day, depending on how much I was able to sell during the rush hour. Now, with no trains or buses plying due to the lockdown, my daily source of income has come to a halt,” he rues.
With a wife and a 11-year-old son, who are both visually impaired as well, the situation only seems gloomier for Kannan. “With the `300 he used to bring home every day, we were managing our expenses. If we needed assistance to travel or in case of emergencies, our neighbours used to help. But now, there is neither any income nor help. People are afraid to even help the blind cross a road. It’s hard. Though some non-governmental organisations have provided us with provisions and other essentials, how long will it last or how long can they keep providing? This needs a more permanent solution,” says Kannan’s wife Sivagami, a homemaker. If reeling under a livelihood crisis wasn’t enough, the couple has also been worried about the education and future of their son.
“He studies at the School for Blind in Poonamalee. Some teachers have been conducting general classes through WhatsApp and I have been trying my best to teach him Braille at home. But without a proper schedule, access to quality technology, and a not-so-conducive environment, he is most often distracted and it worries us,” says the Poonamalee resident, adding that all they can do it wait. “Even buying groceries from local shops has become an issue — we are afraid to step out and others are afraid to help us,” she rues.
Financial assistance
Earlier in June, when chief minister E Palaniswami announced `1,000 for COVID-19 relief for 13.35 lakh people with disabilities (those with identity cards), there was a sense of respite. The announcement also mandated personnel from the Civil Supplies Department to disburse the money to those with family rice ration cards at their doorsteps. But over a month later, the reality seems far from this. Muniappan R, former treasurer and member of College Students and Graduates Association for the Blind (CSGAB), says, “Firstly, the state’s census of the number of people with disabilities/ visual impairment is outdated and inaccurate. There have been calls from several visually impaired persons from different parts of the state, stating that the VOs have instructed them to travel and collect the fund.
How will that be possible at a time like this? There are several uncertainties in even getting the said Rs 1,000 after four months of lockdown!” To do his bit and support his ilk during such trying times, Muniappan along with a few likeminded friends has been pooling in funds from their monthly income and providing financial assistance, rations and other essentials. “We’ve been receiving calls from senior citizens, daily wagers, and families from the community, who have not received any help so far. With the help of friends, we verify the request, collect the details of the individuals, their account and transfer money or arrange for provisions.
Since many have been stuck within the confines of their houses, we try to source the contact of the nearby grocery store or market, transfer money to them and ask them to deliver the provisions at the individuals’ doorstep,” explains the Nandanam Arts College professor. So far, the initiative has benefitted over 100 individuals in areas including Jolarpet, Vaniyambadi, Ambur, Katpadi, Krishnagiri, Dharmapuri, Tirupur, Virudhunagar, Kundrathur, Dindivanam and Egmore. But with a slowdown in the economy and layoffs, contributions from individuals are also dwindling. “During such times, the contributions from the public have helped us the most.
From rice, dal and oil to regular walking sticks, we have been able to provide to those in need with the funds we receive. But our reserves are draining too. The policies and relief that are being allocated to those with disabilities don’t seem well-thought-out. When schemes and policies are being made, there needs to be a representation of those affected, which our system currently lacks,” says Manoharan of Tamil Nadu Differently Abled Welfare Board.
No empathy
A large section of those with visual impairments are either unemployed, work as daily wagers or are dependent on provisions from the government for survival. While NGOs, individuals and private citizen-led groups have been contributing and working round the clock to ease the burden of the lockdown, a more empathetic approach from the government and associated institutions is the need of the hour, say activists. Prabakaran*, a visually impaired data entry clerk, who recently tested positive for the virus and was admitted to the Stanley Medical College, reveals to CE that he was mistreated by the nurses at the medical facility.
“They were rude throughout my stay there. Since there are social distancing protocols, the medicines and food would be kept on the table and we had to fend for ourselves. A few times while trying to reach the plates, it fell down and I was yelled at! I have to touch the surface to identify these objects… so such accidents are bound to happen. Though they cited work pressure for their behaviour, it is still unacceptable. There is a lack of empathy and understanding,” he laments. S Namburajan, state general secretary of Tamil Nadu Association for the Rights of All Types of Differently-abled and Caregivers, says that to avert such incidents, the government’s approach has to be manifold.
“The government has to come up with an efficient mechanism to reach out to those with visual impairment and other disabilities. Their immediate needs, one that will help them in survival at a time of crisis have to be addressed. Government officials, staff members of different hierarchies who are employed in relief and rehabilitation efforts have to be sensitised about accessibility and inclusion. Many are in the mindset that such relief and provisions for those with impairments are a charity. It isn’t. To live with dignity is every individual’s right and we are only enablers,” he emphasises.
Learning gap
According to a recent survey done by Swambhiman, a community-based organisation working for the rights of children with disabilities, more than onethird of the visually impaired students were unable to understand online lessons. Since the beginning of the lockdown, Namburajan has been urging the state government to make education accessible to students with visual impairment and other disabilities. Besides laptops, he has been campaigning for students to be provided with tools that have Braille displays, book readers, and special educators. Despite the petitions and requests, a surface-level approach by the government has irked those from the community.
But despite the odds, visually impaired students from special schools have outshined in their board exams this year with a 95.58 pass percentile. “With better equipment and guidance, the students can achieve more,” he says. GV Oviya, a class 10 student, who became the first visually impaired student in Tamil Nadu to write the CBSE board exams using a computer, is perhaps the perfect example that gives the community a slice of hope. “With intervention, assistive technology and screen readers, the education for the future generation can be effective, making the system more inclusive. This not only provides them with better opportunities but will also enable them to help and provide support for others who are treading a similar path.
During such a crisis, to think about the future is important too,” shares Namburajan. In a recent interview with TNIE, Oviya had said, “I am determined to work hard and clear the civil service exam so that I can change the lives of people like me.” Though her intentions and heart are in the right place, as we step into a pandemic-riddled future, perhaps a more holistic community effort and mindful support from the government will help Oviya and others touch the world again.
CAMPAIGN FOR RIGHTS
Besides laptops, S Namburajan, state general secretary of Tamil Nadu Association for the Rights
of All Types of Differently-abled and Caregivers, has been campaigning for students to be provided with tools that have Braille displays, book readers, and special educators. A surface-level approach by the
government has irked those from the community.
COVID-19 helpline number for Persons with Disabilities: 18004250111 *Name changed