Finding
their niche in society
The Colombo Centre for Special
Education has changed the lives of many differently-abled men
By Frances Bulathsinghala
In the gamble of life, events sometimes catch us unawares. When
Dirk Sathyamoorthy met with a motorcycle accident five years ago,
it meant that he could no longer enjoy the carefree and comfortable
lifestyle he had with his job as an executive in a leading private
firm.
The
accident cost more than just his job. It cost him his mind. Part
of his brain was damaged as a result and he could no longer function
fully. His speech was impaired. Despite leading doctors being consulted,
the fact remained that he would be unable to fit into his earlier
lifestyle.
Yet,
a small school situated in the heart of Colombo changed this. Founded
25 years ago by an Anglican priest, Fr. Celestine Fernando, whose
son was born handicapped, the Colombo Centre for Special Education,
a charitable institution that houses only males has changed over
50 lives. No, it does not perform any miracle surgeries where its
students recover overnight, but with consistent effort those enlisted
in the school (their ages vary from 19 to 67) gain confidence that
they can manage on their own.
The
most notable success is 30-year-old Imtiaz who after nearly fifteen
years at the centre is now one of its staffers and deals adroitly
with the school’s accounts and administrative matters.
"The
centre has persons who suffer from Down's Syndrome. The case of
Dirk is an exception. Our aim is also to give emotional support
to parents who are left helpless in countries such as ours when
dealing with a situation like this. We start at 9.00 a.m. and the
'students' stay on till the school closes at 1.00 p.m. The staff
including the principal totals five teachers. On and off we get
professional assistance from instructors from abroad who teach in
institutions which specialise in cases of Down's Syndrome,"
says principal Mrs. Charika Muthaiah.
She
was speaking to The Sunday Times soon after a recent exhibition
held by the school displaying the talents of its students. Pointing
to the paintings, pottery, woodwork and handwork on display, she
said the students mostly come up with their own ideas.
"Sometimes
the instructors are inspired by them. It is only in the cases of
those who find it difficult to function fully with their limbs and
would find it difficult to grip the paint brush in their hands that
the instructors assist but others are left to create on their own
with only a bit of guidance," says Mrs. Muthaiah.
The
school charges a minimum of Rs. 250 a month but considers any financial
problem the family may have. "We have students who come from
different social stratas. What kind of family they are born to makes
no difference. We are aware that those with adequate finances are
more in control of the situation. That is why we take into consideration
those who might be financially handicapped as well by arranging
for donations. Of late we also provide accomodation facilities for
students at the school if the need arises," says Mrs. Muthaiah.
The
school depends on the generosity of the general public but funds
are also raised by the sale of the students' handwork. "Our
income was mostly raised in the past two years by the cards produced
totally by the students. Many mercantile firms place their orders
for our Christmas cards. Last year we made 7,000 cards," she
says.
"We
can only hope for the day when Sri Lanka realizes the need for a
social scheme as present in other countries, for those born with
Down's Syndrome and other mental ailments. The importance is not
to alienate them from society but to create a society which will
accept them as differently- abled,"says Mrs. Muthaiah.
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