Sunday, August 3, 2025

The Longest Goosebumps I’ve Ever Felt: Inside the Reverse Job Fair for Persons with Disabilities



On 31st July 2025, something meaningful took place at the Institute of Bankers in Colombo. Together with BConnected Pvt Ltd and Solution Ground, we hosted a Reverse Job Fair — a powerful new approach to connecting talent with opportunity.


As a member of the organising team from BConnected, I was closely involved in shaping the event, especially through my role as Consultant – Engagement and Inclusion for the BEmpowered programme. This programme has been training and preparing persons with disabilities for employment, and this event was one of its proudest moments.


Here’s how it worked.


Instead of candidates moving from table to table seeking opportunities, we set it up the other way around. 30 candidates with disabilities from the BEmpowered programme were seated at designated tables, each ready to present their skills, experience, and aspirations. Over 30 companies from industries like hospitality, banking, apparel, and NGOs walked in — and went from candidate to candidate.


Each organisation received a printed candidate profile booklet — something I personally worked on over the past weeks. These weren’t generic CVs. Each profile highlighted not just qualifications, but real strengths, interests, and what type of role would bring out the best in each person. It gave companies a way to connect with the person behind the paper — before even speaking to them.


What we saw next was both simple and significant.


Company representatives moved table to table, stopping to speak with candidates whose profiles caught their attention. Some interviews lasted ten minutes. Others went longer. Some companies spoke to nearly everyone. There were conversations, questions, even laughter. There was nervousness too — but underneath it all, there was respect.


We knew this setup was new for many employers. So we had prepared a brief, accessible guide to interacting with candidates with different disabilities — including tips on communication, etiquette, and language. We shared this with all representatives before the event. It made a difference. You could sense it. Employers approached conversations with confidence and empathy.


For me, as someone who is blind, this wasn’t just a professional moment — it was personal.


I’ve spent years working to bridge the gap between persons with disabilities and meaningful employment. And here, in one room, I could see that gap being crossed — not by policy, not by theory, but by genuine human interaction.


Throughout the day, I moved around the space, checking in with candidates and companies, listening in on conversations, and simply observing. What struck me most was how natural the connections became. Employers weren’t just asking about disabilities — they were asking about skills, about availability, about interests, about growth.


By the end of the day, my phone had started buzzing. Candidates were messaging me:


“Sir, thank you — I never imagined companies would come to us.”

“I felt seen today. It gave me confidence.”

“This was the first time I didn’t feel like I had to convince someone I’m capable.”


Those messages haven’t stopped.


And it reminds me — inclusion doesn’t have to be complicated. It just has to be intentional.


This event showed what’s possible when preparation meets purpose. When we create space — literally and figuratively — for persons with disabilities to be heard, seen, and valued.


To all the companies who showed up, spoke up, and took the time to truly engage — thank you. Let this not be a one-time event. Let it be the beginning of more inclusive hiring practices in your organisations.


To the candidates — you showed remarkable courage and professionalism. You owned your space. You told your stories. And you made all of us at BConnected and Solution Ground proud.


This isn’t the end.


It’s just the beginning.


Let’s move from interviews to job offers. From inspiration to action. From inclusion as an event to inclusion as a daily practice.


#TheLongestGoosebumps #ReverseJobFair #DisabilityInclusion #BEmpowered #BConnected #SolutionGround #HireForInclusion #InclusionMatters 

Saturday, July 5, 2025

What’s Holding You Back? 10 Honest Reasons People Avoid Interacting with Persons with Disabilities, And How to Change That



Let’s be real.
Have you ever seen someone with a disability , maybe at work, in your neighbourhood, or at an event , and wanted to say hello, but didn’t?

You’re not alone.
Many people hesitate. They freeze. They walk away. Not out of disrespect, but because of uncertainty.
Inclusion doesn’t begin with a policy. It begins with us , and with the small, often unnoticed thoughts that shape our actions.

Here are 10 honest reasons people avoid interacting with persons with disabilities , and what we can all do to change that.

1.

I want to be respectful, but I might mess up and offend them. Better to say nothing than say the wrong thing.

What you can do:

·         Start with a simple hello. Warmth matters more than perfection.

·         If unsure, ask politely: “Is it okay if I ask you something about accessibility?”

·         Let go of perfection. Connection beats correctness.

2.

Honestly, I’ve never spoken to someone with a disability before. I don’t know what to say or how to act. I’d rather avoid the situation than risk looking awkward.

What you can do:

·         Begin like any other conversation: “How’s your day going?”

·         Ask about their work, hobbies, or thoughts , not their disability.

·         The more you interact, the more natural it becomes.

3.

I’m not sure they can really do the same things we do. I don’t want to include them and then have them struggle , it might just be uncomfortable for everyone.

What you can do:

·         Never assume. Ask: “Would you like to be part of this?”

·         Let them tell you what works best , trust their agency.

4.

I feel so bad for them. It makes me sad just thinking about what they must go through. I wouldn’t even know how to have a normal conversation , I might just feel too sorry for them.

What you can do:

·         Ditch pity. Choose respect and equality.

·         Avoid phrases like “you’re so brave.” Instead, ask, “What’s something you enjoy doing?”

·         Most persons with disabilities aren’t looking for sympathy , they want equity.

5.

I grew up seeing people with disabilities being separated or kept out of the spotlight. It just feels unnatural to start interacting now , like I’m crossing some unspoken line.

What you can do:

·         Challenge your comfort zone. Say hello anyway.

·         Attend inclusive events. Follow disability advocates online.

·         Exposure dissolves discomfort.

6.

What if I say something and they can’t hear me or understand me? Or what if they need help moving around and I don’t know how to help? I’ll probably just make it harder.

What you can do:

·         Just ask: “Would you like any assistance?”

·         Respect if they say no.

·         Learn simple communication basics (e.g., how to guide, visual cues, clear speech).

7.

What if I say something stupid, or they react in a way I don’t expect? I don’t want to embarrass myself , or make them feel uncomfortable either.

What you can do:

·         A little vulnerability goes a long way.

·         If you mess up, apologise and move on.

·         People appreciate effort more than perfection.

8.

Maybe they want to be left alone. If I approach them, they might think I’m being nosy or treating them differently. I don’t want to invade their space.

What you can do:

·         Assume inclusion, not exclusion.

·         Ask: “Would you like to join us?” or “Want to sit here?”

·         Let them decide, not your assumptions.

9.

I support inclusion, but I genuinely don’t know what to do.

What you can do:

·         Learn about accessible tools, inclusive language, and adaptive practices.

·         Ask your workplace or school to offer sensitisation training.

·         Even small acts , like holding space in a circle or using a mic , matter.

10.

In my culture, we don’t really mix much with people who have disabilities. I was always taught to be polite from a distance, not to engage directly.

What you can do:

·         Reflect: are these habits helping or hurting?

·         Respect isn’t silence , it’s connection.

·         Rewrite the script you inherited with kindness and courage.

5 Quick Tips for Everyday Inclusion

·         Start with person-first thinking , see the individual, not the condition.

·         Don’t wait to be perfect , just be present.

·         Avoid assumptions. Ask and listen.

·         Make accessibility part of how you host, invite, speak, and share.

·         Follow and learn from disability advocates , their voices matter.

Final Thought

Every time you hesitate, ask yourself:
“Is this fear , or is it habit?”
Then challenge it.

Inclusion doesn’t require a grand gesture.
Sometimes, it starts with two simple words:

“Hi there.” 


#DisabilityInclusion #InclusionStartsWithYou #BreakTheSilence #SayHiNotWhy #SeeThePerson #EverydayInclusion #ChallengeAssumtions

Saturday, June 28, 2025

Helen Keller Week: When the Screen Reader Went Silent 🧏‍♀️💻


This week is Helen Keller Deafblind Awareness Week—a time to reflect on how communication shapes connection, dignity, and participation.


Helen Keller’s life showed the world that even without sight or hearing, one can learn, lead, and inspire—if the right tools, support, and mindset are in place.


Her story felt especially close to me recently.


I was in an online workshop.

Everything was going smoothly—until we were asked to join breakout rooms.


Suddenly, my screen reader stopped working.


No prompts.

No audio cues.

I was muted.

My camera was on.

Everyone else had moved on.


I sat there, fully present, yet completely disconnected.


The facilitator kept saying, “Click the button to accept the breakout room invitation.”

But I couldn’t hear or see anything to click.


I raised my hand—hoping someone would notice.

She assumed I was saying goodbye.

She said, “Okay, bye.”

And then… silence.


After a few moments, someone unmuted me from their end.


I explained that I’m blind, and that my screen reader had stopped working.

I also explained what a screen reader is—and how it's how I navigate online spaces.


That moment reminded me how fragile accessibility can be.

When assistive technology fails, my connection to the digital world breaks.


For me, a screen reader isn’t just a convenience—it’s how I navigate, contribute, and stay included.

Without it, I’m left in the room, but not in the conversation.


As we honour Helen Keller this week, I’m reminded of the power of assistive technology to enable participation, connection, and independence for persons with disabilities.


#HelenKeller #AssistiveTechnology #Accessibility #Blindness #Inclusion #DigitalInclusion #LivedExperience #DeafblindAwarenessWeek

Thursday, June 26, 2025

VIP as VIP is Back!


It’s been a long time since I last wrote here. Life moved fast. I got involved in bigger projects, working with companies, organisations, and institutions to develop strategies that make their spaces more inclusive — not just for the sake of compliance, but to truly welcome persons with disabilities.


I’ve found myself more and more in spaces designed without us in mind — boardrooms, trainings, websites, recruitment systems, digital tools — all built with good intentions, but still missing the most important part: the people they forget.


And somewhere along the way, I was reminded why I started VIP as VIP in the first place.


I became blind almost 10 years ago. And back then, I saw what it felt like to be the opposite of a VIP — to be underestimated, left out, or seen as an afterthought. That’s what pushed me to create this space: to flip the narrative. To say that vision impaired people are very important people — not because we need special treatment, but because we matter. Because we can lead, contribute, and thrive when given the chance.


Coming back to this blog now feels like returning to my roots.


I’ve grown. I’ve learned. I’ve worked with amazing people across sectors and countries. But the mission hasn’t changed — and neither has the need for real, honest conversations about inclusion.


So I’m bringing VIP as VIP back — as a space to share stories, lessons, and real-life strategies that make inclusion more than just a policy.


If you’ve been here before, thank you.

If you’re new, welcome.

I hope what I share here helps you see the world — and the people in it — a little differently.