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Boy carried two miles to school inspires a locally-made wheelchair mission in Malawi

Mobility is a gift that empowers and opens up a whole world of possibilities.

Courtesy of Malawi Wheels

Justin's first wheelchair led to a mission for mobility in Malawi.

If a child has a disability that requires a wheelchair in the United States, we generally assume they'll be able to get one. If a family can't afford a wheelchair, we know there are programs and resources that can help fill that need, so the idea that a child wouldn't be able to go to school at all because of a physical disability doesn't really cross our minds.

That is the reality in many parts of the world, however. In developing nations with limited resources, kids with mobility issues often languish at home, unable to participate in or contribute to many aspects of community life. Especially in rural areas that are far from large medical centers and services, kids with disabilities can slip through the cracks and lose the opportunity to get an education.

wheelchairs, malawi, malawi wheels, disabilities, mobilityMalawi Wheels Country Coordinator Gelson Mtinga poses with three new wheelchairs.Courtesy of Malawi Wheels

Behavioral therapist Danielle Kama encountered that reality while volunteering on international service trips during college at San Diego State University. After her first service trip took her to Tanzania, she returned every other year, helping to build schools or teach English. After college, she became a Christian and started doing mission work as well, which eventually led her to Malawi.

Malawi is a small, majority Christian country in East Africa, landlocked between Tanzania, Mozambique, and Zambia. Approximately the size of Pennsylvania in area, it's also one of the poorest nations on Earth, with the majority of its population living in rural areas and doing cash crop and subsistence farming. Approximately 70% of Malawians live in poverty by international standards.

It was in Malawi that Danielle met Justin, an eight-year-old living with mobility differences. Danielle was helping with a children's program when she noticed Justin sitting on the ground while playing with his friends.

disability, wheelchair needs, malawi, kids, childrenJustin may not be able to walk, but he loves to play soccer.Courtesy of Malawi Wheels

"He had the biggest smile on his face, just like beaming from ear to ear," Danielle tells Upworthy. "And all the kids were around him, also smiling. They just kind of ran off to the next cool thing, and then I noticed him start to crawl, with his arms dragging his knees. He couldn't walk, but he kept smiling while trailing all the way behind these other kids trying to keep up."

"I don't even remember thinking, 'That's so sad'," she adds. "It was just really beautiful to see his joy despite the mobility difference."

Danielle visited with Justin's family to find out what kind of needs they had. She found out that Justin's father carried him to school, two miles each way, so he was able to attend. But most kids in Justin's circumstances aren't that fortunate. In fact, according to the 2018 Population and Housing Census, approximately 11.6% of Malawians aged five and older have at least one type of disability. With only 14 prosthetists and orthotists, 200 physiotherapists and assistants, and 15 orthopedic surgeons serving the entire country, Malawi has a limited number of professionals to address mobility and disability issues.

"It kind of became my mission to see if it was possible to get [Justin] a wheelchair to at least make that easier for him and his family getting him to school," she says. "And I found quickly that there's not a lot of options or organizations in Malawi for making or donating wheelchairs."

wheelchair, disability, mobility, kids with disabilities, malawi wheelsJustin in his chair with his brother and a friend.Courtesy of Malawi Wheels

Danielle managed to track down a chair for Justin, but knowing the need was greater than just one child, she became determined to find a way to get more wheelchairs made locally. She met an "amazingly clever and funny" Malawian named Richard, who was a wheelchair engineer. After he trained three welders in his craft, Danielle hired them to start a wheelchair-making operation, now known as Malawi Wheels.

"So that was in December of 2021," Danielle shares. "And then in February, just two months later, [Richard] died of a heart attack. Terrible, terrible. But I truly believe God allowed his knowledge and passion for making wheelchairs for kids to be transferred to our team before his death. And I know that it was really meaningful for his wife to have that legacy live on through now Malawi Wheels."

malawi wheels team, wheelchair makers, helpers, team, engineersThe Malawi Wheels team, left to right: Samuel George (wheelchair engineer) Esther Anthony (office manager), Emmanuel Fred (wheelchair engineer), Stevie Wilson (fieldwork manager), Gelson Mtinga (country director) , Oscar Tamatha (wheelchair engineer) Courtesy of Malawi Wheels

What started with Justin and Richard has now become a team of six men and women, all local Malawians, who identify children with mobility needs, build wheelchairs for them, and deliver them. Danielle says that so far about 200 kids have gotten wheelchairs from Malawi Wheels, which are all made and repaired locally.

"We believe that local needs should have local solutions," she explains. "All of our materials to make wheelchairs are purchased in Malawi so that we can 1) repair them in Malawi and 2) we can give back to Malawian-owned businesses and of course the local economy. So all of our team is local Malawians, our supplies are purchased in Malawi, and our wheelchairs are built and delivered in Malawi."

group, Malawi, Malawi Wheels, crowd, ministry, missionMiracle and his community the day he got his wheelchairCourtesy of Malawi Wheels

Danielle says there are advantages to staying local and not being part of a large international organization. There are non-profits that give millions of wheelchairs away on a global scale, which Danielle praises, but she says there can be issues with not being able to repair or find replacement parts for wheelchairs shipped in from other places. Additionally, as kids outgrow their chairs, they may not have anyone to contact to get a larger one because the chair was just dropped off for them.

Malawi Wheels wheelchairs are custom made for each child so they are safe and their individual needs are catered to.

Man repairing wheelchair; child smiling in a wheelchair, Malawi Wheels, kids, disabilityOscar puts finishing touches on a wheelchair (left), Rose with her mom after getting into her Malawi Wheels chair for the first time (right)Courtesy of Malawi Wheels

"We really like being small right now," Danielle says, "because we're able to carry those 200 children and really hold them and see their story. Our desire is not just to give a wheelchair, give a handout, and then leave. We want to see their progress, repair wheelchairs, make updates, sustainably support the family for the future with some of our programs like parent support groups, which focus on more of the financial, spiritual help for the parent, and then our small business programs, which focus on empowering families financially so that they can support their children long term."

This holistic approach to service is purposeful. The support groups where parents of kids with disabilities gather to pray for one another and provide mutual support also receive physical therapy educational training to better help their children with their needs.

"We transport licensed physiotherapists to the groups to focus on parent training for exercises so that they can take those exercises home and then continue them daily with their children," Danielle shares. "And the main purpose for a lot of these groups is to try to defeat some of that isolation and discrimination that these parents experience."

parent support group, emotional support, physical therapy education, malawi wheelsParent groups provide emotional and spiritual support as well as physical therapy education for parents of kids with disabilities.Courtesy of Malawi Wheels

It's not uncommon in Malawi for a child born with special needs to be seen as cursed or as a punishment from God for a family or individual. It's also a common and accepted practice for a father to leave the family if a child is born with or develops a disability, so there's a lot of stigma and discrimination that follows these kids.

"That leaves, of course, a lot of single mothers caring for their children alone and a lot of lonely mothers and families," says Danielle. "So our goal has been to start new communities for those parents and caregivers that share that common bond so that they can lean on one another, because there are common struggles and common joys that come with having a child with special needs that can then bring them together and help them feel not so alone. So yeah, we kind of get that emotional spiritual care but then also that physical care because we have the physical therapy embedded within the groups as well."

Malawi Wheels also provides business support to help the families become more self-sufficient financially.

"We recognize that a lot of the time, special needs does mean special expenses like medical equipment, monthly medicines, hospital care, so one solution we've found that can be be helpful is coming alongside those families to assist them in starting their own business so that with the profits they can better support their child long term. Again, not just giving a handout that's not going to help them in the long run, but sustainably supporting them. So, when a family is interested in starting a business, we start with a one-on-one small business training for them, we help them make a business plan and then we supply a grant or a no-interest loan, and then we support them through the building process and check in bimonthly for updates. And we found that this can be a huge help for families."

Businesses are often small grocery businesses, selling various items like tomatoes, cooking oil, eggs, etc. Some families also start cooked food businesses like a French fry stand—known as chips in Malawi—or selling small donuts called mandazis.

Danielle says their research over the last couple of years has indicated that no-interest business loans tend to be much more effective than grants. Having the responsibility and accountability of paying the money back, even without any interest, seems to be more empowering to recipients than being given a grant, leading to greater success. Continuous learning helps the organization hone their programs to have the most impact.

It really all comes down to ministering to people's needs holistically, says Danielle, with the mission being for "people to come away with an understanding of Christianity that reflects God's love for his people, especially regardless of ability, regardless of looks, regardless of religion. Because we believe that God created everyone, that everyone bears his image, that he loves everyone, that he really wants healing for his people, mind, body, and soul. So that's why we focus on that holistic model of helping. Of course, we want to provide spiritually, but we're also there to help with physical needs because that's what Jesus did. He didn't just offer prayer. He offered physical healing and provided for physical needs. So I think that collision of faith and works is really important."

malawi wheels, wheelchairs, non-profit organization, group photo, ministryDanielle and her son with the Malawi Wheels team.Courtesy of Malawi Wheels

As for Justin, he's been thriving with his increased mobility.

"After receiving a chair, we've seen Justin become so social in his community," Danielle says. "Every time our team visits the village he's from, they always pass him on the road and see him at the soccer fields or with his friends. He's always out, every time I go to Kabekere where he's from, he is always along the road somewhere."

Additionally, the physical therapy Justin has received through the parent support group has helped him gain enough strength and balance to be able to use a walking frame for short distances. He's also become a soccer coach for his team of friends.

"I've seen him play soccer, too—adaptively, of course—but he'll sit on the floor and swing his legs to kick it to his friends," says Danielle. "So just seeing that now he's even a soccer coach and how involved he's been in his community since being able to have that mobility and independence is so cool."

Mobility truly is a gift that empowers and opens up a world of possibilities. Learn more about the Malawi Wheels mission and see how you can support their efforts here.

Marissa Schimmoeller teaches English at a high school in Ohio. She also happens to use a wheelchair.

As you may expect, Schimmoeller was on edge returning to work after the horrifying shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High in Florida. "As the first students walked in, I began to feel the anxiety pooling in my stomach," she recollected from those first tense moments starting a new day.

But Schimmoeller was dreading one question specifically because she uses a wheelchair: "Mrs. Schimmoeller, what will we do if a shooter comes in your room?"

Photo courtesy of Marissa Schimmoeller.


Inevitably, the question was asked.

"My stomach sank," Schimmoeller wrote in a Facebook post on Feb. 15. "I launched into my pre-planned speech about our plan of action."

But then came the more difficult part of her answer, she noted — the part she'd especially been dreading.

"I want you to know that I care deeply about each and every one of you and that I will do everything I can to protect you," she assured them. "But, being in a wheelchair, I will not be able to protect you the way an able-bodied teacher will."

She continued: "If there is a chance for you to escape, I want you to go. Do not worry about me. Your safety is my number one priority."

Photo via Shopify/Burst.

That's when her students brought her to tears.

"Slowly, quietly, as the words I had said sunk in, another student raised their hand," the teacher wrote in her post. "She said, 'Mrs. Schimmoeller, we already talked about it. If anything happens, we are going to carry you.'"

"I lost it," Schimmoeller concluded in her post, which has amassed more than 33,000 likes and nearly 19,000 shares as of publication.

Today was really hard for me. Today was the first time I had to teach the day after a mass school shooting. I dreaded...

Posted by Marissa Schimmoeller on Thursday, February 15, 2018

"With tears in my eyes as I type this, I want my friends and family to know that I understand that it is hard to find the good in the world, especially after a tragedy like the one that we have watched unfold, but there is good. True goodness. It was found in the hearts of my students today."

Photo via Marissa Schimmoeller.

Schimmoeller's big-hearted students are truly good. They're incredibly thoughtful. They care.

They're also having to think about things no teenager should: how to help their teacher (and themselves) survive a mass shooting.

That's not OK. That's not normal.

We are better than this.

You can support students taking action against gun violence at March for Our Lives or visit Everytown for Gun Safety to learn more and act.

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MDA Live Unlimited

One day, Justin Skeesuck asked his longtime friend Patrick Gray, "Do you want to go across 500 miles of northern Spain with me?"

He was talking about the Camino de Santiago — a pilgrimage hike which, on foot, usually takes about a month to complete.

Today, people of all different religious and cultural backgrounds make the journey for many different reasons, and it would be challenging for anyone.


It was especially challenging for Skeesuck, who doesn't have use of his arms or legs.

Justin with his wife Kristin. Image via MDA/YouTube.

Skeesuck uses a wheelchair and has minimal upper arm and upper torso mobility due to multifocal acquired motor axonopathy (MAMA), a type of neuromuscular disorder that affects the body's motor functions.  

However, this wasn't always the case. Before the disorder began to take hold, he and Gray had a very physically active friendship.

As kids, they only lived a few miles apart and would often skateboard to each other's houses. But, once they reached college, Skeesuck's foot began to weaken, so they had to hang up their boards.

The progression of Skeesuck's disorder changed the dynamic of his friendship with Gray forever.

Gray and Skeesuck. Image via MDA/YouTube.

The hardest adjustment came in January 2010, when Skeesuck lost the use of most of his upper body. That's when he and Gray went through a dark period where it was incredibly difficult to feel hopeful.

Then, slowly but surely, they began to adapt.

Since he can no longer dress himself, bathe himself, or feed himself, his loved ones — like Gray — stepped up to help him. While certainly challenging, it strengthened their bond in a big way.

Gray pushing Skeesuck in his wheelchair. Image via MDA/YouTube.

"His willingness to invite me into the rawest and most difficult parts of life demonstrated a trust few people are given," writes Gray in an email.

Skeesuck and Gray's decision to hike the Camino was by far the greatest challenge the friends had undertaken.

The Camino de Santiago. Image via MDA/YouTube.

Skeesuck found himself inextricably pulled to it, but he knew he couldn't make the pilgrimage without his best friend. And when he asked Gray if he'd come with him, he didn't hesitate. Gray simply replied, "Yeah, I'll push you."

What followed were two years of careful planning and 35 days of an adventure they would never forget.

The pilgrimage had never been done by someone in a wheelchair, so their strategy had to be planned down to the smallest detail. In the end, it took over 100 people helping out to make it feasible.

Skeesuck on the trail with his helping hands. Image via MDA/YouTube.

Gray trained for 12 months, six times a week, pushing himself to the limit. Three months before the journey, he was pushing Skeesuck on all types of terrain, working to increase his endurance up to 12 miles at a time.

Meanwhile, Skeesuck prepped in a different way. The trip was quite expensive, so he created a fundraising campaign to help get them there.

"The journey was made possible by countless individuals providing grassroots support," Skeesuck writes.

They went into it with no expectations. They came back with a newfound strength of those who live life without limits.

Skeesuck and Gray on the trail. Image via MDA/YouTube.

The journey was more challenging than they could've anticipated, often in ways that had nothing to do with physical efforts. Both friends missed their families immensely and faced many personal demons along the way. For one thing, it was hard for Skeesuck to watch Gray and fellow helpers push themselves beyond their physical limits.

In the end, however, it taught him that such an offering can be a gift for everyone involved, no matter who's doing the physical pushing.

"Being willing to let someone pick up something for us is just as much a gift for them as it is for us," Gray explains. "The flip side is obvious."

Their life-changing experience inspired Gray and Skeesuck to help push others to achieve more.

Gray and Skeesuck. Photo via "I'll Push You."

That's why they decided to share their story with the world in a new book and documentary film, both entitled "I’ll Push You." They also started Push Inc. to present the film, and they’ve partnered with the Muscular Dystrophy Association (MDA), which helps fund neuromuscular disorder and disease research that can lead to more people having experiences like this.

The film will be presented in more than 500 theaters across the county in a special one-night-only release and feature information about MDA and the work the organization does to support families like Justin’s.

That and Push Inc. are part of their post-Camino emphasis on motivating individuals and organizations to strive for what they thought was impossible. For Skeesuck, that starts with asking yourself why you want to get there.

"If your why is strong enough that no matter what you face you will continue on, then it’s time to look at the how," Skeesuck writes.

Everyone needs help every now and again. When that time comes, you'll want to have people you trust at your back, pushing you forward.

Watch Skeesuck and Gray's whole story here:

This beautiful friendship shows just how much is possible when you have a support system.

Posted by Upworthy on Wednesday, September 20, 2017
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He uses a wheelchair, and so does this TV character. That matters more than you think.

'Julie's Greenroom' is a magical children's show with an inclusive message.

If you had to describe the target audience of Julie Andrews' latest TV show as a single person, it'd probably be someone who looks a lot like Luca, a 2-year-old boy from Virginia.

The show, a Netflix original called "Julie's Greenroom," has everything a curious-minded youngster could want: puppets, laughs, songs, and Mary Poppins herself. It's no wonder that Luca and his mom, Stephanie, have been enjoying the show since its March 17 premiere.

It's an adorable, delightful show about the wonders of the theater.


But there's one character in particular that Luca and Stephanie have have come to love: Hank, a piano-playing prodigy puppet who happens to use a wheelchair.

Image via Netflix.

Like Hank, Luca also uses a wheelchair.

Luca was born with a condition called spina bifida, and while his wheelchair is just a part of his life, it's a part he doesn't often see in TV shows or movies.

"Julie's Greenroom" changed that for him in an important way.

One of the things Stephanie says she appreciated about "Julie's Greenroom" is that the show doesn't immediately call attention to the fact that Hank uses a wheelchair. Instead, the show "showed the character as just another child with the same abilities and interests," Stephanie explains over email as to why she sees the show as a victory for representation. "All too often it is the physical differences that are noticed before any similarities."

Luca plays with his sister. Photo via Stephanie Rasmon, used with permission.

It's important for children to see themselves in the world, and it's just as important for them to be seen by others.

"I want Luca to know there are other people and even children that use wheelchairs," Stephanie writes. "I don't want a stigma to be associated with having a disability. It is nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about — it is part of him and what makes our family a whole."

Image via Netflix.

Disabled characters are often severely underrepresented in media, making "Julie's Greenroom" a huge step in the right direction.

A recent study found that only a tiny fraction of all speaking or named characters in TV and movies were shown with a disability. In the real world, nearly 1 in 5 people report having some form of disability. When it comes to inclusivity and representation, the media just isn't being realistic.

It matters that Luca is able to see himself in shows because it turns out that not seeing positive portrayals of others who look or act like you can result in low self-esteem. And it matters that kids without disabilities see others who aren't like them because seeing those unlike yourself is key to building empathy and social skills. In other words, diversity in the media is a win-win situation for all kids.

Luca teams up with a dinosaur for playtime. Photo via Stephanie Rasmon, used with permission.

"I think the more we talk about differences, the more we will be accepting of others and look beyond their equipment," writes Stephanie.

And there's a lot to see "beyond their equipment." You can check out the adorable trailer for "Julie's Greenroom" below and learn more about how you can support children like Luca at the Spina Bifida Association website.