A young man injured in a road accident in Kathmandu struggles to enter a government office because there’s no ramp. A woman who lost her leg during the 2015 earthquake waits outside a clinic with no accessible toilet. A child with cerebral palsy sits at home because her school lacks a wheelchair-friendly classroom. These are not isolated experiences; they reflect how our infrastructure and social attitudes continue to fail people who live with injuries or disabilities.
In the case of people with disabilities, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights reframed the global understanding of dignity. Article 1 declares that “all human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights.” Article 16 of the Constitution of Nepal (2015) explicitly affirms that “every person shall have the right to live with dignity.” Yet, for many individuals with disabilities, dignity is frequently compromised through discrimination, exclusion and social stigma. Such violations not only undermine fundamental rights but also contribute to poor mental health outcomes, creating a cycle of suffering that affects individuals, families and communities. From a developmental perspective, Amartya Sen’s capabilities approach broadens the notion of dignity by emphasizing substantive freedoms and the real opportunities people have to pursue lives they value. When dignity is eroded through neglect, discrimination or violence, individuals experience profound personal harm, and the consequences extend further: social systems lose cohesion, legitimacy and overall effectiveness. This underscores the necessity of fostering environments where people with disabilities can fully exercise their rights, capabilities and inherent dignity.
Nepal’s position
There are lots of areas that we are behind in addressing the dignity of differently-abled people. The barriers begin with our built environment. Most public buildings in Nepal remain inaccessible to those with physical limitations. Sidewalks are uneven, roads often lack crossings or tactile paving for the visually impaired, and many schools do not have ramps or adapted toilets. Even newly-built structures often lack accessibility standards mandated under the Act Relating to Rights of Persons with Disabilities, 2074 and the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD), to which Nepal is a signatory.
These physical barriers are more than design flaws but they are reflections of our social priorities. Our public spaces silently communicate who belongs and who doesn’t. When a person on crutches cannot cross the road safely or a wheelchair user is carried up stairs because there is no ramp, it reveals a failure of imagination and empathy.
Infrastructure that is excluded is not only unjust but it is also economically inefficient. By neglecting to accommodate all citizens, we restrict participation in education, employment and governance. Accessibility is not a luxury for a few; it is a fundamental right for all and every person has an equal dignity.
The cultural barrier
The deeper challenge, however, lies in our attitudes. In many communities, people with disabilities are still viewed with pity or dependency, rather than as individuals with agency and potential. Sympathy often replaces justice. Charity programs and donation drives dominate our response, while systems for empowerment, accessibility and inclusion remain weak. Too often, we view injury or disability through a lens of tragedy instead of resilience. When the injured or differently-abled are portrayed as objects of sympathy rather than participants in society, their voices are sidelined from policy debates and community life.
Nepal’s culture of community and compassion can, paradoxically, both comfort and confine. Compassion must evolve into inclusion. Our values from Buddhist teachings on interconnectedness to Hindu values of sewa (service) already hold the moral grounding for inclusion. But it is time we translated those values into systemic change. True dignity is not about receiving kindness; it is about being treated as an equal.
From the lens of IHD
As Nepal builds roads, hospitals and digital systems, it must remember that true development is not just about what we build, but for whom we build. Integral Human Development (IHD), a dignity-centered framework that aims for human flourishing, and sees every person as a whole reminds us that a just and prosperous society must recognize every individual as capable of contribution and worthy of care. It offers a transformative way to rethink how we design societies. It begins from a simple truth: a person is not merely an economic actor or a recipient of aid, but a whole human being physical, emotional, social, and spiritual. Dignity is its core foundation. Dignity is also the key pillar of development, and every person, regardless of special needs, deserves to flourish.
IHD invites policymakers to pause and reflect before drafting any plan or project. If we are building a school, would we feel confident sending a child with special needs from our own family there? If not, then the project is not good enough. This is what IHD demands, merely not perfection, but empathy and coherence between intention and impact. It helps us to transform policies from technical checklists into moral commitments. It challenges us to see the person before the impairment, the capability before the constraint.
From policy to practice
Nepal needs more than laws to advance inclusion, it needs implementation grounded in dignity. First, enforce accessibility standards across all levels of government. Every new school, hospital and municipal building must meet basic mobility, visual and hearing-friendly design requirements, with accessibility audits built into approval processes. Second, invest consistently in rehabilitation and reintegration. Road-accident survivors, earthquake victims and others with long-term injuries need sustained physiotherapy, counseling and employment support. Third, ensure that people with disabilities and injuries are part of decision-making; their lived experience is essential for designing inclusive systems. Fourth, shift cultural practice. How we speak to, treat and create space for differently-abled people determines whether inclusion is real or symbolic. Finally, mainstream inclusion in education and employment through teacher training, workplace adaptations and public awareness. Economic participation allows people not just to survive but to thrive.
Nepal stands at a crossroads. Progress is visible in infrastructure and connectivity, but true development is measured by who can access those advancements. A ramp at a school or tactile paving at a bus stop may seem small, yet they embody respect and equal opportunity. Designing for the most vulnerable ultimately benefits everyone: the elderly, the sick, children and temporary accident survivors, strengthening trust and resilience.
As Nepal reimagines its development path, IHD offers a guiding compass. It urges policymakers to move beyond economic expansion and ask how policies nurture the whole person. Through this lens, these reforms are not technical fixes but parts of a holistic vision that balances efficiency with empathy, participation with policy and growth with justice.
The author is a graduate student of Global Affairs at the University of Notre Dame, USA
