LET’S TALK HUMANITY

Fatima Ganduje is committed to making a difference in young people with disabilities, writes

MUKTAR UMAR

In a quiet but determined push to reshape the future of disability inclusion in Nigeria, Fatima Ganduje Abiola Ajimobi is advancing a vision that stretches far beyond the present. Her goal is not just to intervene, but to institutionalise change, anchored on a proposed National Resource Centre for persons with sensory impairments that would connect Nigeria to global expertise, innovation and best practices.

Unveiled in Abuja at the premiere of a documentary marking 10 years of the Let’s Talk Humanity (LTH) Initiative, the plan reflects a transition from grassroots intervention to national coordination. It is a vision shaped by years of engagement, observation and, perhaps most importantly, evidence.

For Ganduje, the moment carried both personal and public significance. What began as a modest idea, nurtured through conversations, classroom interactions and encounters with underserved communities, has gradually evolved into a tested model of impact. And now, she believes, the time has come to scale.

The story of LTH is rooted in a simple but urgent concern: the tragedy of unrealised potential. Across Nigeria, particularly in underserved communities, thousands of young people with disabilities grow up without access to education, tools or support systems that could allow them to thrive.

Ganduje saw this gap early and chose to act.

Over the past decade, her intervention has focused on providing access, especially through technology, to students in special schools, with Tudun Maliki Special School in Kano emerging as a key beneficiary. The results, she says, have been transformative.

A 500 per cent increase in tertiary institution enrolment among students from the school is not just a statistic, it is a narrative of changed lives. It is the story of students who once faced exclusion now stepping into higher education with confidence.

“This is no longer about ideas or intentions,” she said at the event. “It is about results, young people who once felt excluded now contributing meaningfully to society.”

Beyond the numbers, the initiative has altered perceptions both within communities and among the students themselves. Where limitation once defined expectations, possibility is beginning to take root.

Central to Ganduje’s philosophy is a rejection of the traditional framing of disability support as charity. For her, inclusion is not an act of kindness; it is a societal obligation.

This belief underpins the next phase of her work, the proposed National Resource Centre. Envisioned as a hub for learning, innovation and collaboration, the centre would serve as a bridge between Nigeria and countries with advanced systems for disability inclusion.

It would also address a persistent structural gap: the absence of a coordinated, knowledge-driven approach to supporting persons with sensory impairments at scale.

The idea is ambitious, but not abstract. It builds on a decade of practical experience, of what works, what doesn’t, and what is possible when intention is backed by structure.

Hitherto, Ganduje is clear about one thing: the vision cannot be realised in isolation. It requires partnerships, policy support and sustained investment.

“We need people who are willing to move from intention to action,” she told the audience, urging stakeholders to see inclusion not as a side issue but as a central component of development.

Her message resonates strongly in a region where the consequences of neglect are visible daily. In many parts of Northern Nigeria, persons with disabilities are among the most marginalised, often lacking access to education, employment and social support.

For some, this exclusion translates into a life on the streets.

Former Kano State Governor and immediate past APC National Chairman, Abdullahi Umar Ganduje, who spoke at the event, did not shy away from this reality. He described the widespread neglect of persons with disabilities as a key factor behind the growing number of beggars across the region.

“In the northern part of this country, people with disabilities are often relegated to the background,” he said. “That is why we see an array of beggars on our streets, day and night.”

For him, the implications go beyond social concern—they touch on human dignity and economic potential. He argued that with the right investments in education and technology, persons with disabilities can transition from dependency to productivity.

“What we have seen here today shows that with the right support, they can become employers of labour,” he added, describing the LTH model as a potential “silent revolution” if adopted more widely.

The conversation on inclusion also drew attention to the role of policy and planning. The Minister of Humanitarian Affairs and Disaster Management, Bernard M. Doro, emphasised the need to rethink how systems are designed.

For too long, he noted, accessibility has been treated as an afterthought, something to be added after systems are already in place. This approach, he argued, is both inefficient and exclusionary.

“Inclusion is not optional, it is an obligation,” he said. “We must move towards a future where accessibility is built into the system from the beginning.”

His remarks point to a broader shift in thinking, one that sees inclusion not as a specialised concern, but as a fundamental principle of governance.

Other speakers, including the Minister of State for the FCT, Mariya Mahmud Bunkure, represented at the event, and Abike Dabiri-Erewa, Chairman of the Nigerians in Diaspora Commission, echoed similar sentiments, stressing the need for coordinated efforts across sectors.

At the heart of the gathering was the documentary Seen, Heard and Included, a reflection on the journey of LTH over the past decade. But beyond the visuals and narratives, the film served a deeper purpose.

For many in attendance, ranging from policymakers and educators to development partners and members of the disability community, the documentary highlighted not just what has been achieved, but what remains to be done.

It challenged long-held assumptions about ability, access and responsibility. It asked difficult questions about who gets included, and who is left behind.

If the past decade has been about proving that change is possible, the next may well be about proving that it can be sustained and scaled.

The proposed National Resource Centre stands at the centre of that ambition. If realised, it could redefine how Nigeria approaches disability inclusion, moving from fragmented efforts to a cohesive, knowledge-driven system.

But even as the vision takes shape, the challenges remain significant; funding, policy alignment, public awareness and institutional commitment among them.

Her confidence is grounded not in theory, but in experience, in the students who have moved from exclusion to opportunity, in the communities that have begun to shift their perceptions, and in the growing recognition that inclusion is not just morally right, but socially and economically necessary.

In the end, her message is simple but profound: a society that leaves some of its people behind cannot truly move forward.

And for Nigeria, the task ahead is clear, not just to see and hear, but to include.

 Umar is a public affairs analyst based in Kano