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The World Health Organization estimates that approximately 10 percent of the world’s population is significantly disabled. However, official statistics in Indonesia claim that the disabled make up only 1 percent of the country’s population. The reality is that disabilities are dramatically under-reported in Indonesia, leaving millions of disabled Indonesians as invisible citizens.

In Indonesia, disabled people often have difficulty attending school, finding work and gaining access to offices, factories and other workplaces. Many do not have identity documents. Without access to public facilities, the disabled cannot leave their homes, and they become poor and disappear from the public eye.

The concept of universal access is based on the belief that when appropriate accommodations are made for people with disabilities, the limits on their activities are eliminated or reduced. When this happens, they are no longer disabled, because they can participate in a full range of activities in their communities. Here is the story of one disabled woman whose life changed when she was given a chance to participate in her community.

Nurbaidarmi is a paralyzed playgroup teacher in Meunara, Indrapuri, near Banda Aceh

I’m a paraplegic. I’ve got no idea how I became this way. When I was at school, I used to love running. When I was 14, I suddenly had excruciating pain in my back. Suddenly, I couldn’t move my legs.

My father took me to the hospital in Banda Aceh. When I was in the hospital, I heard one of the nurses say, ‘She’s such a pretty girl. It’s too bad she’s paralyzed.’ That was how I found out I’d broken my spine.

I remember shouting at my father and telling him what the nurse had said. I remember telling him it wasn’t true. And then I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I couldn’t bear it. I remember my father telling me that he’d get me a wheelchair. I hated him for even suggesting it.

After that, I just lay on a mattress in my room. I had no control over my bladder. I had to change my clothes 10 times a day or even more. I hardly had any meat left on my legs, so my bones always rubbed straight against the mattress. I got sores all over my body and they would often get infected.

My father told me about a special school for people with disabilities in Banda Aceh, but I wasn’t interested. I was ashamed of urinating uncontrollably in front of other people. I didn’t know that loss of bladder control was a problem that all paraplegics have.

Most of the time, I listened to the radio. I liked reading, too. I liked reading about people in wheelchairs in the paper. I didn’t have any disabled friends and I never went out of the house, so that was how I learned about how other people like me coped.

As time went by, I began to accept my situation. In 1990, I let my father buy me a wheelchair. There was no path at the front of the house, so I couldn’t go anywhere, but at least I could sit outside. Sometimes friends or family came to visit me. I started to enjoy being with people again. I started to draw, too. The kids around here used to watch me and they always asked for drawings.

Things changed after the tsunami. A lot of foreign non-governmental organizations came to Banda Aceh. My brother was working in town when he met someone who told him about Handicap International. I’ll be honest with you: I was very suspicious at first. I’m Acehnese. I’m a Muslim. I didn’t want to ask the foreign NGOs for anything. I thought they might want me to become a Christian if they gave me something. But my brother encouraged me.

Some people from the organization came out to meet me. They asked me a lot of questions. They asked me what I wanted to do with my life. My mother asked me: Why don’t they just give you a wheelchair? Why do they keep asking all these silly questions?

But the people from Handicap International wanted to know about my house and how I lived there. They offered me a grant to make my house more accessible. They asked me if I needed to have better access to the bathroom.

The people asked me to draw a plan to show what I wanted. They suggested a few changes to make my plans more practical. They built a low basin outside my room and a paved path so that I could get my chair to the road in front of my house. They told me that if I had a wheelchair, I should think about what I wanted to do next. They asked me if I’d thought about getting a job. I laughed and told them that no one would employ an unqualified woman in a wheelchair. They told me just to imagine that I could do anything I wanted. I didn’t take it seriously, but I told them I’d like to be a teacher.

They told me about an early childcare and education course being held by Unesco. I was scared that I’d urinate in front of the other students. They told me about diapers for paraplegics, and said if that was the only problem, they’d get the diapers for me.

There is a play group in the village about 100 meters from my house. When I finished the course, I started working there as a volunteer teacher. The kids like me. I draw pictures and write stories to go with them. I read the stories to the children.

But I haven’t taught at the school for the past three months. The village authorities began repairing the road outside my house. They put stones there to stop the road being washed away. It means that I can’t push myself to school in my wheelchair anymore.

Could they have made a special path along the road for me? [Laughs] I’d be embarrassed to ask for something like that. They’d have to go to all that trouble just for me. No, you’re right, it wouldn’t have cost much. They could have just left a strip next to the road without stones.

I’ve never been to any village planning meetings. Someone would have to carry me. Anyway, a lot of the kids still come to visit me at my house. I still do my drawings and tell them stories.

This story first appeared in “Invisible People: Poverty and Empowerment in Indonesia,” by Irfan Kortschak, with photography by Poriaman Sitanggang. The book (and an Indonesian translation, “Mereka Yang Tak Terlihat”) was published with the support of the PNPM Support Facility, a Government of Indonesia multidonor partnership for reducing poverty through community action. The books will be available from Aksara, Gramedia, Gunung Agung, Periplus and other book stores from early January. Assistance for the interview with Nurbaidarmi was provided by Handicap International (www.handicap-international.org.uk).