Inclusion or injustice? Disability in Bangladesh’s humanitarian landscape

Bangladesh lives at the intersection of natural and human-made disasters. Every year, cyclones sweep across the Bay of Bengal, floods submerge villages, and river erosion displaces thousands. At the same time, long-running crises such as the Rohingya refugee influx have created one of the world's largest humanitarian operations.

On 3 December 2025, the world marks the International Day of Persons with Disabilities (IDPD) under the theme "Fostering disability-inclusive societies for advancing social progress" (United Nations, 2025). For Bangladesh—where humanitarian emergencies reveal the country's deepest inequalities—this theme is not abstract; it is urgent.

Everyday Survival: Persons with Disabilities in Humanitarian Emergencies

In every humanitarian context, persons with disabilities are disproportionately affected. When a cyclone strikes, evacuation centres often lack ramps or accessible toilets. During floods, rescue boats rarely prioritise those with mobility impairments. In displacement caused by river erosion, families with disabled members are often the last to relocate, struggling with inaccessible shelters and limited livelihood opportunities.

Bangladesh's humanitarian story is therefore inseparable from the story of disability. Yet disability inclusion remains marginal in disaster preparedness and response.

Life on the hills: Rohingya camps through my eyes

Since the influx, I have worked extensively in the Rohingya camps of Cox's Bazar, moving across steep hillocks, fragile stairways, and muddy pathways to reach households. In every observation, the terrain emerges as an immediate barrier for persons with disabilities, shaping their access to services, safety, and daily movement.

I recall meeting a man with a spinal injury who could not climb the hill to reach a health post. His neighbours carried him on a bamboo stretcher, slipping in the rain-soaked mud. A mother of a child with cerebral palsy once told me she avoided food distribution points because the queues were chaotic and dangerous for her son, whom she could not leave alone at home. A blind elder explained how he relied on children to guide him through narrow paths, terrified of falling into the deep gullies that cut through the camp.

These are not isolated experiences. A REACH/Impact Initiatives assessment found that 12% of Rohingya households reported disability, often linked to conflict injuries and trauma (REACH, 2021). CBM Global Disability Inclusion has documented how camp topography compounds exclusion: inaccessible latrines, steep approaches to health posts, and shelters collapsing during monsoon rains.

Humanitarian actors often overlook these realities. Relief distribution assumes mobility, health posts assume vision and hearing, and psychosocial support assumes literacy and speech. For persons with disabilities, survival in the camps is not only about food and shelter—it is about negotiating barriers at every step.

Disability defined: Beyond impairments

The World Health Organization (WHO) defines disability as:

"Persons with disabilities include those who have long-term physical, mental, intellectual or sensory impairments which, in interaction with various barriers, may hinder their full and effective participation in society on an equal basis with others." (WHO, 2001)

This definition shifts the focus from impairment alone to the attitudinal, environmental, institutional, financial, and communication barriers that prevent participation.

The Washington Group Short Set of Questions (WG-SS) operationalises this approach. The six domains—seeing, hearing, walking, cognition, self-care, and communication—could make visible the lived realities I witnessed in Cox's Bazar: the man carried uphill, the mother avoiding queues, the elder navigating ravines. Without such tools, exclusion remains hidden and humanitarian responses fail to meet real needs.

Violence and Stigma: Hidden Emergencies

Exclusion is not only physical. Persons with disabilities in Bangladesh face heightened risks of violence during crises. A nationwide study revealed that they are disproportionately exposed to emotional, physical, and sexual violence, with women and girls experiencing a double burden—gender-based violence layered with disability stigma (Cambridge University Press, 2025).

In the camps, I heard stories of women with disabilities who avoided latrines at night because pathways were unsafe, or who withdrew from aid queues after repeated harassment. Violence here is not incidental; it is systemic, magnified by humanitarian neglect.

Language further reinforces exclusion. In Bangla, terms such as অক্ষম (okkhom, "incapable"), পঙ্গু (pongu, "crippled"), or বোबा (boba, "mute") circulate even within humanitarian spaces. These words strip dignity and position persons with disabilities as burdens rather than rights-holders. Rights-based alternatives—such as প্রতিবন্ধী ব্যক্তি (protibondhi byakti, "person with disability")—centre the person, not the impairment. Changing humanitarian language is as critical as changing infrastructure.

Global promises, local gaps

The Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (CRPD, 2006) obliges states to ensure inclusion in all aspects of life, including humanitarian action. Bangladesh reinforced this commitment through the Rights and Protection of Persons with Disabilities Act, 2013, which guarantees rights to education, employment, and participation.

Yet in Cox's Bazar, these commitments often collapsed before my eyes. During fieldwork, I met people with hearing impairments who never received early warnings, wheelchair users who could not enter designated shelters, and individuals whose psychosocial needs were overlooked because disability stigma silenced their experiences. The gap between national promises and everyday realities felt painfully evident.

This year's IDPD theme reminds us that inclusion is not optional. It is the foundation of resilience, dignity, and justice.

What must change

Humanitarian preparedness: Disaster management plans must integrate disability inclusion, ensuring evacuation, relief, and recovery are accessible.

Violence prevention: Programmes must recognise and respond to heightened violence against persons with disabilities.

Inclusive data: Humanitarian assessments must incorporate the Washington Group Short Set to make disability visible.

Language reform: Campaigns must challenge stigmatising Bangla terms, reframing disability as diversity.

Policy enforcement: The 2013 Disability Act and CRPD commitments must move from paper to practice, backed by monitoring and accountability.

Inclusion at Risk: Practitioners Speak Out

Tahmida Akter, Disability Inclusion Advisor at CBM Global Disability Inclusion, notes, "People with disabilities remain among the most at-risk in our communities. Yet recent funding cuts have shifted focus away from inclusion towards only immediate life-saving needs. We urge the donor community, government, and UN/INGOs to re-commit to disability inclusion across all sectors—ensuring people with disabilities are not left behind but empowered to thrive."

Conclusion: From Recognition to Action

Disability inclusion in Bangladesh is not a side issue—it is central to humanitarian justice. From cyclone shelters to refugee camps, progress must be measured by whether persons with disabilities can survive, participate, and thrive.

The International Day of Persons with Disabilities is not only about recognition; it is about action—removing barriers, confronting violence, and replacing stigmatising language with dignity. Bangladesh has the frameworks, resilience, and global solidarity. What remains is courage: to act, to include, and to build a humanitarian future that is truly just.

Shahanoor Akter Chowdhury is a gender rights activist and feminist researcher. Email: chowdhury.shahanoor@gmail.com

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions and views of The Business Standard.