Each year on December 3, the world marks International Day of Persons with Disabilities. This year’s theme, “Fostering a Disability Inclusive Society for Advancing Social Progress,” calls on governments and communities to move beyond statements of support and build real pathways to participation. The story that follows shows why that work remains urgent.
In this guest essay, Dr. Thomas Timothy Mtonga of Zambia reflects on his historic campaign for parliament as a blind academic and disability rights advocate. His experience reveals the deep gap between global commitments to inclusion and the realities many people with disabilities face.
The text has been lightly edited.
The night was too long. My phone was so busy, constantly buzzing with messages and sometimes phone calls. My blood pressure was high as the election results started coming in from Chasefu Constituency. By 12:00 p.m., the parliamentary results for Chasefu were announced: Thomas Timothy Mtonga, 11,890; Goko (pseudonym), 12,600. It was clear that I had lost the election, along with my job as a lecturer at the University of Zambia, and I had lost party favor. Unfortunately, the president also lost, rendering me in the deep dungeons of survival.
In 2006, Zambia was holding presidential and parliamentary elections. During the preparation for one of the Ngoni traditional ceremonies, three traditional chiefs in the Eastern Province of Zambia called on me. They told me that despite my disability, they saw in me a great organizer, a learned person with a disability, well-versed in disability issues, and a befitting leader at the national level. The accolades went on and on. Finally, they stated that because of the great potential they had seen in me, they wanted to submit my name to contest as a parliamentary candidate for Chipata Central Constituency.
Zambia holds elections every five years. The elections bring candidates in four categories: presidential, members of parliament responsible for legislation, mayors or council chairpersons for district civic leadership, and councilors at the ward level.
I listened to the three traditional chiefs and assessed myself. I knew that persons with disabilities were severely oppressed in the country. In parliament, there were no persons with disabilities to represent our views. In fact, the country has 156 constituencies. However, the constitution provides for presidential appointments of up to eight additional members of parliament. These eight members of parliament are supposed to be chosen from the minority and the marginalized, but unfortunately, no president considers these factors. Instead, they appoint party sympathizers.
I was honestly in a better position to represent persons with disabilities. Nevertheless, election campaigns require a lot of funding, and one needs to be prepared emotionally and psychologically. I told my three traditional chiefs that I was not ready to undertake this task because the campaign period was too short.
Fast forward, my interest kept growing for me to represent my fellow persons with disabilities. I later became the first blind man to lecture at the highest institution of learning, the University of Zambia, in 2009. Moving on, I became the first blind man to acquire a master’s degree at the University of Zambia, followed by a UNESCO-sponsored postgraduate diploma in Curriculum Development and Design at the Tanzania Institute of Education. Later, I was sponsored by George Soros’s Open Society Foundation to acquire a diploma in Sociology of Globalization at the University of Bilgi in Turkey and pursued a second master’s degree in international human rights law at the University of Leeds. Consequently, I became the first blind man to graduate with a doctoral degree. I felt very compelled to test the waters by contesting for a parliamentary seat.
Besides my academic qualifications, I became a committed disability activist and a trainer of civil society groups, organizations of persons with disabilities, and a great advocate for the participation of persons with disabilities in every part of society. The slogan “Nothing for us without us” became synonymous with my training sessions. Peers, professionals, and other disability activists repeatedly expressed their desire for me to contest and represent persons with disabilities in parliament.
The pressure for me to contest had mounted s significantly. Though I lacked resources, in 2018, I launched a football league in Chasefu Constituency, which is also my home village. My fame and popularity started growing in the constituency. I was very certain that I was on a trajectory of “Fostering a Disability Inclusive Society for Advancing Social Progress.”
I used my hard-earned University of Zambia salary to sponsor my campaigns. Of course, I began hearing the questions informed by myths and beliefs about disability in rural Zambia. Some people told my supporters, “We have never seen a blind man being as progressive as Dr. Mtonga. However, with his disability, will he not bring a curse to our constituency? How is he going to know that the road is damaged and requires mending? When he is given money by the government, won’t his henchmen steal from him?”
In 2019, I started teaching the First Lady, Mama Esther Lungu. I became one of the First Lady’s favorite lecturers. She learned about my campaign ideas and my interest in contesting as the first blind man in the parliamentary elections. Impressed and moved with amazement about how I would teach, work, and commit, the First Lady could not could not resist sharing these issues with her husband, President Edgar Chagwa Lungu. President Lungu was touched and moved by my decision.
He one day popped up in my class with the First Lady and her colleagues. He wanted to find out how sincere I was about contesting and what I was already doing on the ground. Having listened to my presentation, President Edgar Lungu bought into the idea and turned this dream into his project to promote persons with disabilities in the country.
Zambia has a large constituency of persons with disabilities. They are estimated to be about 14 percent of the total population of 19,656,000. With a community of roughly two million people, the president was right to support their political participation.
President Edgar Lungu (may his soul rest in peace) personally supported my campaign—both financially and morally with the hope that the people of Chasefu would also include me in their understanding.
To be honest, I was the most qualified parliamentary candidate among all the contestants, but I was disabled. I was the most eloquent speaker, but I was disabled; I was the most organized parliamentary candidate in Chasefu, but I was disabled. To undermine my popularity and fame, my opponents used my disability as a defining part of their negative campaign. However, to the last day, my rallies were always attended by thousands of voters.
During the campaigns, I realized that a lot of people had deep-rooted questions in their minds because of myths and beliefs about disability. For instance, in my region, persons with disabilities are considered not complete human beings; they are a bad omen; they bring curses to communities; their disabilities are contagious; disability is a result of sin, hence persons with disabilities are not blameless; they are an abomination to society. Therefore, some of the people attended my rallies with a questionable mentality, making it very difficult for them to be genuine. Others were intrigued by my capabilities.
In the last week of the campaigns, my opponents increased their attacks on my disability. Unfortunately, one of the two traditional chiefs in the constituency turned his back on me and called all his village headmen to threaten them that if any village voted for Thomas, he would send them out of his chiefdom. Traditional chiefs in Africa and in Zambia in particular, have a strong influence on their subjects. Surprised at this decree by the chief, voters were demoralized and filled with fear.
The traditional chief was upset with the running mate of President Edgar Lungu, who did not pay a courtesy call at his palace. The chief concluded that the best way to punish the party was to deny Thomas the votes from his chiefdom. Coupled with the wrong messages being presented by my opponents, I received very few votes from that chiefdom. Of course, after the elections, the traditional chief regretted and asked for forgiveness from me.
I am convinced that “fostering a disability inclusive society for the advancement of social progress” is far-fetched in Africa and in Zambia in particular. Myths and beliefs which lead to stigma and discrimination are so pronounced. Even a well-meaning, traditional, and educated person will still display negative attitudes towards persons with disabilities. We need to fight on to remove these misconceptions, misunderstandings, and outrageous beliefs about persons with disabilities, which hinder equity, reasonable accommodation, affirmative action, growth, universalism, and sustenance in society.
On August 12, 2021, I lost my parliamentary bid. I lost my salary from the University of Zambia. I lost my house at the University of Zambia. I lost friends. I had to be strong and overcome. Society refused to accept me. With the change of government, those in power considered me an enemy, further distancing the call to inclusion. Though I was advised to petition the results, with a great chance of winning, I felt let down by my society. In reality, this is a call to action.
A Call to Action: Moving from Rhetoric to Reality in Society
The theme for the International Day for Persons with Disabilities, “Fostering a Disability Inclusive Society for Advancing Social Progress,” is a powerful articulation of a global aspiration. However, my journey—a highly qualified candidate with the highest academic credentials, endorsed by the sitting president, yet defeated by deep-seated myths and fear—reveals the cavernous gap between this global rhetoric and the harsh local reality.
Social progress is not measured by the laws we write or the speeches we make, but by the unconditional acceptance of all citizens. When 14% of a population (approximately two million Zambians) can be effectively disenfranchised by centuries-old stigma, we have failed to advance. An inclusive society is not merely one that accommodates disability, but one that actively celebrates capability.
To truly realize the promise of this day’s theme, we must move the fight from the legislative chambers to the hearts and minds of every citizen. It requires a sustained national effort—backed by the same moral and financial commitment as any election campaign—to dismantle the myths that make a blind person’s success seem like a curse. Social progress will only truly advance when the people of Chasefu and countless communities like it judge their leaders not by what they lack, but by the potential they undeniably possess. The time for incremental change is over; the time for radical, transformative inclusion is now.