What is life like without sight? Dark, empty, burdensome, and daunting? But seeing Somana Khadka (33), one realises that even in darkness, there is light. Even without the ability to witness the world’s brilliance, one’s actions can illuminate life. The visually impaired can still bring vision to others.
Somana herself cannot see, but she helps others to see. Deprived of external vision, she excels with her inner vision—sharp and perceptive. She has an exceptional memory, quickly grasping information and retaining it for a long time. This ability allowed her to complete a master’s degree, despite being initially denied school admission.
Defying societal expectations placed on the visually impaired, she pursued everything she was told she could not. When she protested against violence in a hostel, she was expelled. Yet, she refused to give up, standing firm until others yielded.
Fighting gender and social discrimination
Speaking out against centuries-old gender and social discrimination was no easy task. But Somana did more than just speak—she led a movement.
She fought against her family and society, advocating for herself and others like her. Now a primary-level teacher at Nepal Rastriya Secondary School in Bhurigaun, Surkhet, she has become an inspiration not only for the visually impaired but for society as a whole.
Establishing a separate hostel
Somana never forgot the violence she endured. Determined to prevent others from suffering the same, she established a separate hostel for visually impaired and intellectually disabled girls in 2015.
“I was subjected to violence by both staff and teachers while staying at a hostel in Nepalgunj. This made me realise the need for a separate hostel for visually impaired women,” she said. “Now, boys and girls are housed separately.”
However, with the evolving concept of inclusive education—which encourages children to learn without being separated from family and friends—Somana now envisions a unified hostel system. She believes the state must ensure inclusive education for children with disabilities.
“Children should be educated without being separated from their parents or childhood friends,” she said. “Even if they stay in hostels, safety must be ensured.”
Despite the wealth of knowledge and achievements among the visually impaired, she believes the state remains indifferent.
“Leaders remain silent. Activists have shut their mouths. Policymakers are turning a blind eye,” Somana said. “We are fighting for ourselves, raising our voices. But who is listening?”
She asserts that the existing laws on disability rights in Nepal are impractical and ineffective.
A difficult childhood
When Somana first opened her eyes, the world appeared dim. She believed that was how the world was meant to be—hazy and unclear. But as she grew older, she stumbled when trying to stand, bumped into things when trying to walk, and constantly needed support for simple tasks.
“It was around age four or five when I realised I was different from others,” she recalled. “The world was bright, but I had lost my sight.”
Born on April 28, 1990, in Katti, Dailekh, to Bed Bahadur and Kali Khadka, Somana lost her vision at the age of two due to an eye infection that spread through her village. With no hospitals nearby, her family resorted to traditional healers, but the treatment failed, leaving her permanently blind.
Somana had seven siblings from two mothers—four sisters from her biological mother. Her father remarried in hopes of having a son. When his second wife bore a son, he gradually distanced himself from the family, leaving Somana’s mother as the sole caretaker.
While her sisters attended school and participated in community events, Somana was left alone at home.
“One day, I followed the sounds of children playing and, stumbling along the way, reached the school,” she reminisced. “Day after day, I kept going. After a month, a teacher handed me a book.”
A cousin living in Ramghat, Surkhet, later informed the family about a school for the visually impaired.
“My father dismissed the idea, saying there was no point in educating a blind child. But my mother supported me,” Somana said. “After much insistence, my father finally dropped me off at my cousin’s home in Ramghat.”
At the age of seven, Somana started attending school in Ramghat in 1998. However, after just six months, the special education program was discontinued, forcing her to return to her village.
A local teacher with basic Braille training admitted her to his school, where she studied until grade four. When the special education program resumed in Ramghat, she returned and enrolled in grade five.
Her academic performance was superior to other students with disabilities. Recognising her potential, her teachers recommended her for a scholarship at a school in Nepalgunj.
Expelled from hostel and struggled for survival
Upon reaching Nepalgunj, Somana faced another hurdle. The hostel at Mangal Secondary School refused to accommodate her. Denied admission, she went to the district education office, demanding to be enrolled in grade six at her preferred school.
“I told them I would rather die at their doorstep than be denied education,” she said. Under pressure, the school admitted her.
But hostel life became another ordeal.
“I couldn’t tell who was coming or going, but I always felt people invading my space. They touched our faces unnecessarily, came too close, and even hugged us,” she recalled.
She later realised this was not simple affection but harassment. When she resisted, hostel staff threatened her, saying, “Do you want to study here or not?”
Determined not to remain silent, she protested and even warned of calling a press conference. Eventually, she was expelled from the hostel.
With nowhere to go, she took shelter with friends and acquaintances. “Life in Nepalgunj was extremely tough. For nearly two years, I survived on just one meal a day,” she said.
In 2008, after passing her School Leaving Certificate (now SEE) exams, Somana decided to leave Nepalgunj. Though the school’s new management offered her continued education and a scholarship, she declined.
“When I needed support, I didn’t get it. Why stay?” she said. “By then, I had gained confidence that I could manage on my own.”
She moved to Surkhet and enrolled in a higher education program at Surkhet Campus. But her struggles were far from over. Her husband was away in India for work, and she lived with her young daughter.
“My landlord evicted me just because I was blind,” she said. “With my one-and-a-half-year-old child, I ended up on the streets.”
Social worker Jeevan Kumar Shakya later provided her shelter and a job at a hostel he ran. She then worked at another hostel caring for visually impaired students.
Somana credits her husband for supporting her education. She completed her bachelor’s and master’s degrees in education with his encouragement. “My husband worked as a labourer to cover my expenses,” she said.
Career and activism
Somana eventually secured a teaching position at Nepal National Secondary School after challenging the recruitment of a non-disabled person for a position meant for the visually impaired.
“It’s been four years since I started teaching,” she said. “The world isn’t dark because of blindness—it’s dark due to ignorance. Education lights the way forward.”
A marriage of struggles and triumphs
After completing her SLC exams, Ramesh Rana from Kohalpur proposed marriage. He had always supported her endeavors.
“Society kept making things harder for me, leaving me with little choice,” she said.
With no money for a grand wedding, a friend’s mother told them to perform the ritual right there in her home. They married on the spot. However, they couldn’t register their marriage due to child marriage laws.
Later, her husband joined the Nepal Oil Corporation, and they settled in Baijanath Rural Municipality, Banke.
“Look at me, if you’ve lost hope”
Somana served as vice president of the Visually Impaired Children’s Club at her school in Nepalgunj and later became secretary of the Karnali Province Blind Association. She has worked as a counselor for visually impaired girls for over 13 years.
She also led the Human Trafficking Prevention Group in Surkhet.
“Even while experiencing violence myself, I believed in speaking up for justice,” she said.
Reflecting on her journey, she added, “People who once belittled me now invite me for meals. Those who criticised me now praise my achievements.”
“For anyone losing hope in life—look at me,” she said. “Struggles shape us. If I can do it, why can’t you? It’s not a physical disability but a weak mindset that cuts life short.”
