Established by the United Nations, the day serves as a reminder of our collective responsibility to advance inclusion, uphold dignity and strengthen the participation of persons with disabilities in all areas of life. It is a day for policy reflection, community mobilisation and renewed commitment to equity.
For me, beyond the policy briefs and institutional statements that circulate on this day, IDFPwD carries a quieter, more personal weight. It is a moment to reflect on my journey as a father to my 16-year-old son, Aaron, who is autistic, and to consider how our everyday life fits within the broader national and global conversation on disability.
While the world discusses frameworks, rights and systems, I think of routines, moments of connection and the very human realities behind those policies.
As a father, my lived experience forms the lens through which I understand IDFPwD. It reminds me that inclusion begins at home, long before it reaches organisations or government offices. It reminds me that the progress we talk about in public must translate into the daily experiences of families like ours.
GENTLE APPROACH
My journey with Aaron has not been defined by sweeping breakthroughs but by steady, consistent engagement; sometimes challenging, sometimes fulfilling, always instructive. I remember the early years, when communication was minimal and routines were rigid.
At the time, I was learning to understand him not through words but through patterns: how he arranged objects, how he reacted to noise or how he would reach for my hand when something felt overwhelming. These small observations helped me respond with patience instead of pressure, presence instead of assumptions.
One afternoon stays with me clearly. Aaron was lining up his toy cars on the floor, spacing them with the precision of a surveyor. My instinct was to “help” or “correct”, the way adults often do with children. But I stopped myself and sat beside him quietly.
After a few minutes, he pushed one of the cars toward me, not looking directly, but aware I was there. It was a simple gesture, but it was the first time I truly felt invited into his world. That moment shaped how I approach him even today: gently, without rushing and with respect for the way he sees and processes his environment.
Fatherhood in the context of disability comes with its own form of learning curve. There are days when progress feels slow, and others when something small, a new sound, a calmer response to noise or an unexpected smile, feels immeasurably encouraging. These shifts may look minor from the outside, but within our family, they are milestones.
Beyond the home, there is the advocacy dimension. I have sat in various meetings and social gatherings where I needed to explain Aaron’s needs in detail, ensuring he would not be misunderstood or overlooked. I have had to describe meltdowns not as disobedience but as distress. I have clarified that silence does not mean absence of understanding. Over time, I have learned to communicate his needs with clarity and confidence, even in spaces where autism is not well understood.
I have also learned the importance of preparing environments for him, such as choosing quieter spaces, adjusting transitions and helping him anticipate changes. These practical adjustments have reduced challenges and helped him navigate the world with more confidence. Through this, I have grown more observant and more attuned to his cues, something that has strengthened our bond.
UNCONVENTIONAL FUTURE
Another important part of this journey has been accepting that the future may not follow traditional expectations. Early on, I had to let go of the idea of a “typical path.”
That shift was not always easy, but it opened the door to a deeper appreciation of Aaron as he is. I began to recognise his strengths — his focus, his memory and his calmness when in familiar routines. Instead of comparing his progress to standard timelines, I learned to value his individual pace.
On this IDFPWD, I decided to think especially about the many fathers who share a similar journey. Men who may not speak openly about the challenges but who show up every day, trying to balance emotional presence with the pressures of providing.
Many of us operate quietly in the background, adjusting schedules, keeping routines consistent, observing behavioural cues and learning new methods of communication. Our work may not attract attention but it forms the backbone of stability for our families.
My experience with Aaron has changed me in lasting ways. It has made me more deliberate, more patient and more reflective. It has taught me to prioritise understanding over assumption. It has shown me that inclusion is not only a policy goal, it is a way of being present with another human being, meeting them where they are, not where we expect them to be.
As we mark IDFPWD, it is important to remember that disability is not just a statistic or a policy category. It is a lived experience that unfolds in homes, in classrooms, in public spaces and in daily interactions. The progress we aim for must be felt on these levels.
To all the fathers walking this journey, know that your work is invaluable. Your steadiness and attentiveness matter. The path may be quiet but it is meaningful. On this day, we recognise our children and we also acknowledge the role we play in supporting them with consistency, respect and unwavering care.
