I was sixteen years old when I traveled for the first time for my education. It should have been a moment of excitement, growth, and independence. Instead, it became my first lesson in how deeply inaccessible—and fearful—society can be toward disability.
Rather than offering solutions, people scared my parents. No one talked about systems, support, or accessibility. The focus was never on how I would travel—only on why I shouldn’t. From terminals to ticketing, from moving through spaces to simply existing during the journey, everything felt like a huge challenge. Not because I lacked ability, but because no one had designed the world thinking about people like me.
Travel Was a Challenge — Not Because of Disability, But Because of Design
Traveling as a blind woman means constantly navigating spaces that were never meant to include me. Ticketing systems are visual. Terminals rely on screens. Directions are silent for those who cannot see. Entertainment systems on long journeys are entirely screen-based, offering nothing accessible for blind travelers.
Sighted people enjoy the views outside a bus or train window—that becomes their entertainment.
But what do blind travelers get?
Crying babies. Loud phone calls we didn’t choose to hear. Random noise. No audio-based entertainment. No accessible design. No consideration.
You were not thought of.
Kind People Exist — But Kindness Is Not a System
During my travels, I met people who were kind and helpful. I also met people who looked at me as if I were strange or out of place. But this is not about individuals.
This is about the responsibility of the state.
Accessibility should never depend on whether a stranger decides to help. It must be built into transport systems by default. Braille labeling on seat numbers, clear audio announcements, and accessible ticketing are not luxuries—they are basic rights.
Planes, trains, buses, ferries—accessibility should exist everywhere.
We are human. We have the same needs. We deserve the same freedom.
I Am Not Asking for Accessibility — I Am Asking for Equality
I am not asking for favors. I am asking for equality.
Websites focus heavily on visual graphics while ignoring screen readers and voice-over features. Inclusive design benefits everyone, yet blind users are consistently ignored.
When equality is missing, fear grows. Parents become afraid. Society creates stories of danger and helplessness. Convincing families becomes harder than the journey itself—sometimes even for something as small as going to a coffee shop.
Freedom Shrinks — Especially for Disabled Women
As an individual traveler, I had freedom. My parents were scared, but they never stopped me from growing.
After marriage, freedom often disappears. Independence is seen as disrespect. Self-reliance is misunderstood as rejection of help.
Control is not care.
If my driver is unavailable and I am not allowed to use Uber or Yango on my own, that is not protection—it is control. Fear of the unknown, combined with lack of accessibility, creates forced dependency.
Dependency Is Created, Not Natural
Disability does not make me dependent.
Inaccessible systems do.
Fear-driven mindsets do.
Lack of equality does.
When transport, technology, and society fail to include us, dependency becomes inevitable—not because we are incapable, but because the world refuses to adapt.
Final Words: Everything, All Together
This is my message to governments, transport authorities, designers, and society:
Stop treating accessibility as charity.
Stop replacing solutions with fear.
Stop controlling disabled women in the name of care.
Build systems where we do not have to explain our humanity. Create travel experiences where equality is the standard, not the exception.
I do not want special treatment. I want the same freedom.
Travel is not a privilege.
Equality is not optional.
And the world is not complete until it includes all of us.