Disability Inclusion: Two Places, One Aim

A person living with a disability in Cameroon faces a very different reality than one in Germany. In Cameroon, some people still whisper that disability is a “curse” from evil spirits. By contrast, Germany’s constitution explicitly forbids discrimination on the basis of disability. These two worlds seem far apart, yet they share a common hope: to see disabled people live with dignity and equal opportunity. With over one billion people – about 15% of the world – having some form of disability, the way societies treat this community is not a minor issue. It is a mirror of societal values and a frontier for innovation. As we examine Cameroon and Germany, we uncover stark differences in attitudes and infrastructure, but also find that inclusion benefits everyone in surprising ways.

Worlds Apart, Shared Hopes

Consider the story of a young girl in Bamenda, Cameroon: every day, she crawls out of her wheelchair and across the floor to reach her classroom because the school has no ramps. Her uniform gets dusty and her dignity takes a hit daily. Now imagine a different scene in Berlin, Germany: a wheelchair user rolls into a bus with ease – all Berlin city buses are equipped with ramps. At the subway station, elevators and tactile paving guide riders with mobility or visual impairments; by 2022, nearly all Berlin U-Bahn stations were set to be step-free. These snapshots illustrate more than just two countries’ infrastructure. They tell of two mindsets: one struggling to provide basic access, and another striving to make accessibility the norm. Yet, change is possible in both places. Cameroon and Germany each have lessons to offer on how to treat disabled people – and why doing so lifts everyone.

Stigma vs Support: Perceptions and Policies

In parts of Cameroon, traditional beliefs and lack of awareness fuel stigma around disability. A volunteer in the country’s South-West region bluntly noted that “many think disability is a curse resulting from evil spirits,” and see disabled persons as “useless”. Such harmful perceptions lead to social exclusion – people are reluctant to befriend or assist someone with a disability under the false notion that misfortune is contagious. Families sometimes hide away disabled relatives, fearing shame or believing nothing can be done. “Most families see them as a burden,” says Ruth Acheinegeh, a Cameroonian advocate, “leaving them without basic necessities”. This stigma has real consequences: many children with disabilities in Cameroon are kept out of school and adults struggle to find work or even access public places. Even the government’s own Ministry of Social Affairs building in Yaoundé lacks ramps or lifts, so wheelchair users must be carried up flights of stairs. The message until now has been clear – society did not expect persons with disabilities to take part in public life.

Germany, on the other hand, has a more supportive policy framework, backed by decades of disability rights activism. The German Basic Law (constitution) proclaims that no one shall be disfavoured because of disability. Anti-discrimination laws are in place, and Germany ratified the United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (CRPD) back in 2009. By contrast, Cameroon only signed the CRPD in 2008 and delayed actual ratification for years – the president authorised it in 2021 and the formal ratification was only completed in late 2023. This delay reflects Cameroon’s slower trajectory in embracing international disability standards. On paper, Cameroon does have a 2010 law promising protection and welfare for persons with disabilities. In practice, however, enforcement is weak and everyday realities lag far behind the lofty language. As a 2022 analysis noted, implementing even Cameroon’s existing disability laws has been “very complex,” and new commitments risk being adopted but not put into action.

Social attitudes in Germany are generally more progressive. Disabilities are not viewed as curses but as part of human diversity. In public life, one can find role models that challenge stereotypes. For example, Wolfgang Schäuble, a former German finance minister, used a wheelchair after an injury but continued to serve at the highest levels of government. Seeing a leader on the world stage who happens to be disabled sends a powerful signal: a physical impairment is no barrier to contributing to society. That said, Germany is not free from prejudice or problems. Disabled Germans still report instances of discrimination or patronising attitudes. Employers may quietly worry that a disabled hire will underperform (despite laws forbidding such bias), and some in society may underestimate the abilities of persons with certain disabilities. But unlike in Cameroon, these biases are widely recognised as wrong, not reinforced by cultural lore. Germany has spent years building awareness that inclusion, not pity or superstition, is the way forward.

Infrastructure and Accessibility: A Tale of Two Environments

The physical environment in Cameroon often amplifies exclusion. Simply getting around town can be a nightmare for someone with a mobility impairment. Homes, government offices and even churches are typically not accessible to the disabled. Buildings commonly have staircases at every entrance, with no ramps or lifts. Public transport is largely unusable – buses rarely kneel or have wheelchair lifts, and minibuses are overcrowded vans that you must clamber into. Sidewalks (if they exist) may abruptly end or be obstructed, and you will search in vain for the “beeping” pedestrian signals or Braille signage that are standard in accessible cities elsewhere. “It is very disturbing if you have something to do in an office but you cannot get inside because of the building,” says Frankline Essame in Bamenda, who relies on crutches. In Cameroon, people with disabilities often depend on others to physically carry or guide them. Tragically, this means many simply stay home. A lack of wheelchairs and assistive devices compounds the isolation – one report noted that in conflict zones of Cameroon, people lost crutches or prosthetic legs while fleeing violence and then had no replacements. The country’s infrastructure has not been designed with disability in mind, largely because disabled voices have been absent from the planning table.

In Germany, accessibility is far more built into the environment – though it’s an ongoing project. Most buses and trains are engineered for “barrier-free” travel. In Berlin, for instance, 85% of subway stations can be accessed without climbing stairs, and all new trains are designed with level access. Every city bus in Berlin has a ramp or kneeling mechanism to accommodate wheelchair users. Tram stops are being raised to platform level, and tactile guidance strips assist blind travelers in navigating stations. Many pedestrian crossings have audible signals so that blind or low-vision individuals know when it’s safe to cross. Public buildings are required to meet accessibility standards under German law – new constructions must include features like ramps, elevators, wide doorways and accessible toilets. Older buildings are gradually being retrofitted; even historic structures have been adding lifts or other adaptations. There is still work to do: not every small town train station has a lift yet, and some old tenement buildings lack elevators. Germany’s federal government set goals (such as making all publicly accessible government buildings fully accessible by 2035) to keep progress on track. Compared to Cameroon, however, the physical landscape in Germany sends a message of welcome. A wheelchair user can enter most schools, offices or shops without much trouble. A deaf person can find sign language interpreters for public events or at least written information. A blind person can count on public infrastructure like tactile paving and Braille labels in elevators. These differences arise from decades of advocacy and policy – Germany began institutionalising “Barrierefreiheit” (barrier-freedom) in the 1990s, whereas Cameroon’s accessibility standards are only recently being talked about.

The attitude behind infrastructure is just as important. In Cameroon, disability advocates lament that “infrastructure [is] developed without taking into consideration the pride of persons with disability”. It has taken activism to even raise the issue. Leaders of Cameroon’s disability community have been calling on the government to ratify the UN convention and to enforce accessibility in construction. There are small signs of change: a guide on accessibility standards was produced to enlighten architects and builders, and local organisations hold events on the International Day of Persons with Disabilities to draw attention to these needs. But resource constraints and limited political will mean progress is slow. By contrast, in Germany accessibility is seen not just as charity for the few, but as convenience for the many. When Berlin transit authorities tested higher bus stop curbs so wheelchairs could board without a ramp, they noticed it made boarding easier for all passengers. This mindset – that a city is better for everyone when it’s accessible – has been crucial in driving investment in such infrastructure.

Education and Employment Gaps

Opportunities for education and work largely determine whether disabled people can thrive or remain marginalised. Here, too, Cameroon and Germany paint very different pictures, each with its own challenges.

In Cameroon, many children with disabilities never get a basic education. Schools often lack the accommodations to handle students who are blind, deaf, or have mobility or learning impairments. There may be no sign language-trained teachers for deaf pupils, no Braille materials for the blind, and as noted, no ramps or accessible classrooms for those using wheelchairs. The result is that parents sometimes keep disabled children at home, unsure if the school will accept or care for them. One Cameroonian mother, Cecilia Ngwafor, shared that her daughter’s government school “is not equipped to accommodate children with disabilities”, leaving the girl to crawl part of the way to class. This heartbreaking situation is common. Cameroon does have a few specialised schools in urban areas (for example, schools for the deaf in Kumba or Yaoundé), but these serve a tiny fraction of those in need. Most disabled youths, especially in rural areas, simply fall through the cracks. Unsurprisingly, literacy rates and educational attainment for persons with disabilities in Cameroon are much lower than the general population (exact figures are scarce due to poor data collection). Without education, job prospects are grim. Many disabled adults in Cameroon resort to informal work or even begging. There is a glaring absence of disabled people in white-collar jobs or visible positions – a reflection of both educational barriers and discrimination by employers. While Cameroon’s 2010 disability law talked about promoting employment, in reality there are no robust quota systems or incentives for hiring disabled workers, and discrimination often goes unchecked. It is telling that nearly over 10% of Cameroon’s population is estimated to have a disability (due to factors like polio, accidents and disease), yet one seldom sees them in offices or universities. They are there; society just hasn’t enabled them to participate.

Germany’s situation is markedly different in education and employment, yet it is not a complete utopia either. By law, all children in Germany have a right to education, and this includes those with disabilities. The country has been moving towards inclusive education, integrating more students with special needs into regular schools. However, Germany has historically relied on a system of “special schools” (Sonderschulen or Förderschulen) for disabled children. As a result, Germany still has a high rate of segregated schooling. Well into the 2010s, about 82% of students with special educational needs were taught in separate special schools rather than mainstream classes. This is one area where Germany has lagged behind some of its European neighbours, and the UN’s CRPD committee has critiqued it. The pattern is slowly changing as some states adopt inclusive models, but many parents of children with disabilities feel forced to choose special schools if the local mainstream school lacks the resources or willingness to accommodate their child. The German Institute for Human Rights has highlighted the need to dismantle segregated settings in education and move towards full participation. So, while a blind or wheelchair-using child in Germany is guaranteed schooling, they might still find themselves in a separate institution, which can perpetuate social separation and stigma. On a positive note, those disabled students who do go through the German education system – whether special or integrated – often have pathways to higher education or vocational training, supported by state programs.

When it comes to jobs, Germany has a more structured approach to inclusion. Employers with more than 20 employees are required to ensure at least 5% of their workforce are people with severe disabilities. If a company doesn’t meet this quota, they must pay a fine (a compensatory levy). This policy, along with subsidies for workplace accommodations, has improved employment rates of disabled Germans. You will find people with disabilities in a variety of professions in Germany – from tech companies hiring autistic software testers, to banks employing people with physical impairments in customer service. Still, unemployment among disabled people remains higher than average. Some employers quietly pay the fines instead of hiring the quota, and disabled employees report hitting glass ceilings. Yet, protections are strong: it is illegal to fire an employee for disability without government approval, and discrimination in hiring is unlawful (with remedies if proven). In Cameroon, such legal protections exist on paper but are rarely enforced or tested. Germany also provides assistive support – for instance, workers with disabilities can get government aid for modifications like screen readers or adapted desks, and even free public transport passes to ease their commute. Cameroon’s workforce, in contrast, is largely inaccessible both physically and socially. It has very few programs to train or place disabled workers. Many disabled Cameroonians end up in subsistence livelihoods or reliant on family support. This is a huge loss of potential talent for the country.

One similarity both countries share is that disabled people often experience lower employment rates and earnings than their non-disabled peers. The difference is in degree and response. Germany recognises this gap and has multiple initiatives to narrow it – from vocational rehabilitation programs to awareness campaigns urging businesses to see abilities, not just disabilities. Cameroon is only beginning to acknowledge the gap; the focus for now is on basic access and rights, with economic inclusion still a distant goal. Changing deep-seated perceptions is part of the battle. As one Cameroonian advocate put it, “Disability is not a problem. The problem is the attitude.” Ensuring education and jobs for disabled citizens requires Cameroon to adjust that attitude at every level – family, community, and state.