Every morning, Hilia Hilia Ndeapo Shifidi hears her daughter’s tiny voice before dawn: “I want to go to school.” 

Katongo Godswill Shinyemba, affectionately called Hallo or Tongos, is a bright, joyful child confined to a wheelchair that barely works. Her longing to learn, play and explore collides with the harsh reality of a world not built for her needs. 

“Seeing her cry because she wants to participate is heartbreaking. I feel helpless at times, but I stay strong for her,” said Shifidi. 

A typical day for Shifidi is a marathon of care. Bathing, dressing, feeding, lifting, and moving her daughter which place an enormous physical strain. Yet the emotional weight is heavier. Each moment of distress, each tear shed by Godswill, is a reminder of how limited her independence truly is. 

Despite her disability, Shinyemba’s personality shines. She laughs, teases, sings, and learns quickly. 

“She is happy during happy moments and deeply sensitive during sad ones. 

She is a child with a heart full of emotion long before she is seen as a child with a disability,” Shifidi says. 

A broken wheelchair compounds the struggle, leaving Shinyemba, unable to move freely or join other children in play. 

Educational opportunities are scarce; schools and daycares often cannot accommodate her, leaving her longing for learning unfulfilled. 

“Every morning, she wakes up asking to go to school. It breaks my heart knowing she wants to learn but cannot,” Shifidi explains. 

Shifidi’s hope is simple yet urgent: a reliable wheelchair, access to a school that understands her daughter’s needs, and the support to give Shinyemba a life of dignity. “Even small gestures or advocacy can change her life,” she said. 

For Shifidi, every tear, every strain, and every act of care is a fight for her daughter’s right to live fully. “She deserves comfort, joy, and the chance to live like any other child. That is what keeps me moving forward every day,” she says. 

-isipunga@nepc.com.na