"'Are you doing a natak? (Acting)' is what people usually ask me if I go out..."

Name: Faryal Shahzad

Age: 30 years old

Place of residence: Mehmoodabad, Karachi

Occupation: Receptionist at DWA (Disabled Welfare Association)

“My name was Beenish up until grade 5, then my parents changed it to ‘Faryal’ even though I suggested ‘Fizza’”

‘And why did they change your name?’

“I used to get sick very frequently as a child. My parents were then told that the name is what effects a person’s life, and so my name was changed quite a few times. We then finally settled on ‘Faryal’”

‘What does it mean?’ I asked her.

‘Bahadur larki (brave girl)’ she said. And I nodded in agreement with how her name was a reflection of her and the life that she has lived. As she sits in front of me in a vibrant green kurti, I see how she is brave but also cautious – with her posture and not with her words. She sits on a wheelchair with her hands kept firmly on her thighs. She is disciplined in her bearing, just the way most women are conditioned to. I can see that she is also just human with all her wishes and desires that fill the air around her once she begins to speak.

‘I was quite energetic and vigorous as a child. My parents tell me that I was always jumping around the house, never settling down’ Faryal tells me. One sentence of hers is always backed by a different one as if she is speaking without any full stops. How she speaks is a testament of her childhood self; while she may not be able to move around as she used to, she always jumps in to complete my questions for me. She is still as ‘energetic.’

Faryal was in grade nine back in 2005. She was impatiently waiting for her results when one day she went onto the rooftop of her house to give away some meat to the black kites, more commonly known as ‘Cheel’. A way of keeping away all bad eyes. Faryal however lost her balance and fell on her back from a height of fifteen feet, subsequently injuring her spinal cord. She was taken to a few government hospitals which refused to admit her based on the severity of her fall and referred her to a private hospital where she immediately underwent surgery. The surgery was risky and meant that she would be left paralyzed from the waist down. It was after she underwent the operation that she was told that her results were out; she had cleared her exams. This was the first of many tests that Faryal had passed that day, others were just lining up.

Faryal lived with a urinary catheter for the next ten years which she says were the most difficult for her. Having lost all sensation in her lower limbs meant that she could not feel anything, even the heat from the engine that burned her foot on a public bus. Despite all the efforts of her mother, the foot later got infested with ants and that is when the last of her friends stopped visiting her. ‘They thought that they will get it too, just by being there. I am glad anyways that they never came back, good for me’. Faryal declared as a matter of fact, with just the right amount of sarcasm. She went on to laugh a little, as if announcing her victory. But I could see through her - the years of endurance that it would have taken her to be here. ‘I used to ask for death every day’ she told me in the same cheerful manner.

Having three other siblings along with a meagre family income did not allow Faryal the opportunity of studying beyond grade twelve or the luxury to travel. She then stopped leaving the house. “You can either deal with your disability or with poverty. Even though I had to give up a lot of things, I am still grateful to my ‘mummy’ and ‘papa’ who have always supported me. But would you believe that there are also such parents that don’t feed their daughters with disability because if they gain weight, who will lift them up if need be?” Faryal went on to narrate.

‘Being a woman in this society is in itself a disability, and being a disabled woman would mean double the disability’ Javed Rais, The founder of Disabled Welfare Association (DWA), told me while echoing Faryal’s thoughts. But he is determined to change the narrative through his organization one day at a time, by providing a place for employment and recreational activities for people with disabilities.

‘How did you start working at DWA?’

‘Someone told me to visit DWA and even though I did not feel like leaving my house I decided to go out this one time. Just this one time.’ Faryal came to DWA on 19th September, 2020. This was the first test that she passed. The second one however stood right in front of her. With her urinary catheter now removed due to the excessive infections, she could not leave her house for more than an hour or two. She was afraid that a diaper would smell and so leaving her house did not seem like a viable idea.

‘Sir Javed taught me urine management. This is something that most people on a wheel need to learn and trust me - my life changed because of this! I also travelled to Hyderabad with my team for a workshop. I could have never imagined this earlier’ she said, with curiosity. It still felt like a dream to her. But certain realities that ran parallel to her dream always brought her back to this life, this place. ‘“Are you doing a natak? (Acting)” is what people usually ask me if I go out. I love to go shopping now. But people just can’t seem to believe that a well-dressed person can also have some sort of disability’. I immediately then notice her pink-lipstick and the golden-yellow head-scarf. She is fashionable and I can tell that this makes her happy.

After passing two of the biggest tests of her life she is now onto the small ones. The ones that catch you by surprise but are bearable and amusing in their nature. For instance this one time when Faryal was trying out this new ‘Shilpa Shetty’ yoga pose and tried to sit cross legged but ended up fracturing her foot instead. ‘Mujhe bhoot sawar tha’ (I was obsessed) Faryal says and then bursts out laughing. One other day she herself took up the challenge of participating in a cricket competition and won a trophy to her surprise. ‘Mummy slept with my trophy that day!’

Faryal now gladly jumps into situations that she thinks she can handle as a receptionist and teacher at DWA. She has regained her spontaneity and her sense of self. She says that she ‘loves herself’ now. People often tell her that they pray for her recovery, for her to be able to walk again. But Faryal declines this kind offer because for her this life is not a test anymore. It is wonderful. She might still be scared of Cheels, but ‘aren’t we all scared of one thing or another?’