Ihre Geschichten zeigen: Wir müssen sie stärken!

Ich bin der erste Blindtext, der Blinden hilft. Der erste Blindtext, der Sinn macht und mehr ist als ein Platzhalter. Denn durch mich erfahren Sie, dass man blinde Menschen mit nur 30 Euro heilen kann. Unter www.christoffelblindenmission.de. Und das ist doch sinnvoller als alle lorem ipsums, quick brown fox und oxmox zusammen.

Eine Stimme für Frauen mit Behinderung

Silent tears verleiht diesen Frauen eine Stimme – und die CBM stärkt Frauen mit Behinderung mit ihrer Projektarbeit.

Gesicht hinter einer Strukturglasscheibe © Silent Tears
Text zu Bild Südafrika

Claudia, Südafrika: "It's only the skin"

“I think it all comes from the family first, because the family needs to accept you and when you grow up, you gain self-confidence from the family, yes outside there is a lot of attitude …I’m not different from other people, it’s only the skin. I am the only one in my family left with Albinism, so it wasn’t that difficult for them because once they decide to keep me alive, because all the other people with Albinism that were born around my age were dead. I am experiencing financial abuse physical abuse and emotional abuse. I always tell myself that I am living for my children, to see to it that they become happy, and to live to see their future, because I can’t leave them, I can’t abandon them. So, this is the pain I live with every day. I must manage to see that they are happy, and I put their happiness in front of mine. So that is the problem in my life. I can’t …for myself, I can’t practice that – I always put other people’s happiness first. The impact of my disability is that it is not simple to get a job. People think that if I hire a disabled person, maybe their work will be slow, or maybe she or he can’t do whatever she is told to do. This is the problem we are facing now as disabled people. I come here to this community, I can’t say they have a problem with me because I have opened a small business selling snacks and sweets. So that [helps] a lot because I use their money effectively, and I have got no negative attitudes from them. I want to be proud and [want] people to look at me as a normal person, not as a disabled person.”

Frau mit Tuch um den Kopf, das nur ihre Augen freilässt © Silent Tears/
Text zu Bild Indien

Kavita Shetty, Indien: "It wouldn’t matter much if I died"

" ... How long can you live your life in fear? Whatever happens is destiny. If this were to happen to my sister or daughter, I would tell them to leave their husband. But everyone has to live their own life. I was sleeping with a blanket over my face, and felt it being pulled off me. He poured raw acid directly on my head and body. Then he lit a match and set me on fire and ran – all I could see were orange flames. I ran outside, burning, screaming for help, but nobody responded. I ran back to the bathroom, threw water on my face, and then ran to fetch help. He was terrified when he finally saw what had happened to my face – my hair was all burnt, skin was peeling off my face and hands. I looked white because my skin was melting. When I saw the orange flames I had known it was fire, after I put the flames out I touched my skin and it felt tight, like stone. I had been sleeping with my arms covering my eyes – this had saved me from blindness. My husband had brewed the lethal acid. The doctors said it was highly concentrated and severely toxic. In some places, I had been burnt to the bone and there was little flesh left. I told my mother I did not want to live, because I was in so much pain. I was in a very bad state. I returned home after three months of hospitalisation and three surgeries, and then did not step outside for nearly a year. Only my son looked at me because he recognised my voice, and he was so young that he wasn’t afraid of my burn scars. After a year and half, I started going out irregularly and wore a scarf to cover my face. I couldn’t go outside without it. I don’t feel uncomfortable stepping outside without it anymore; I’ve grown used to the way I look. It has been five years since this occurred. My husband’s family had hired a lawyer and tried to pay me money to not testify. I initially refused to take his money, but I needed a house and money for my child’s school expenses. My husband’s family arranged a place for me to stay shortly after, on the condition that I would not testify harshly against him. They promised that they would give me a place to stay once he was released. I just wanted to move on with my life and leave him and the situation behind. I told all of this to him while he was in jail. After he was released, his family did not hold up their part of the deal. Because of my finances, and in order to take care of my son, I had to agree to move back in with my husband.” - Kavita Shetty, India 2017

Frauen aus Westafrika © Silent Tears
Text zu Bild Westafrika

Frau aus Westafrika: "I beg them to stop"

“The little that I can say to the guys that rape the disabled is that I beg them to stop because it can be a curse on them. Even though they might think that the victim is handicapped or disabled. And if you discover that the person you raped is pregnant, it should be their responsibility to follow up on them to find out if there are any issues with the pregnancy. They may never know what the outcome of the child being born will turn out to be.”

In the safe house of Barrier Free Living, New York, are three extraordinary women with physical disability who are seeking asylum in the USA. In November 2015, they arrived by plane from West Africa with only enough money for one night in a hotel. Shunned and shamed by their families, they fled a country that defines people with disabilities as cursed, and where Female Genital Mutilation, although banned, still occurs in the remote townships from where they came. Their incredible journey of distance and resilience is filled with awareness that such practices are not global and that with hope and prayer, they would be able to change their lives. The ticket was bought at the price of their dignity and pride as they resorted to sex work as a means to an end, but at least this story has the beginnings of a happy ending. Barrier Free Living Apartments opened in the summer of 2015, offering permanent homes with support services. BFL Apartments offer fifty family units for families with a disabled head of household who is a victim/survivor of domestic violence, and seventy studio apartments for disabled victims/survivors of domestic violence, people with disabilities who are being diverted from possible nursing home placement, and veterans with disabilities.