The gowns were resplendent and the music uplifting. “It was fun. We all danced in our wheelchairs,” says entrepreneur Tabassum Chagani as she recounts her experience participating in the 2017 Miss Wheelchair Canada pageant. “The criteria were mainly how comfortable you were in your skin; how comfortable you were being in a wheelchair and being yourself.”
Forty men and women sit transfixed. They have come together to listen to Tabassum, and others, address their bi-monthly Connectra meeting at Vancouver’s Roundhouse Community Centre. Connectra connects people with physical and cognitive disabilities to activities and programs that will, over time, lead to greater self-confidence and involvement. It offers help finding jobs, runs workshops and showcases mobility aid products. Today, a clothing manufacturer starts the proceedings by demonstrating a rainproof poncho that covers both the wheelchair and its occupant. Tabassum follows.
“On the day of the pageant, we were asked very broad questions. Tell us about yourself. That gave each of us two to two-and-a-half minutes,” she says, reminding the audience that the pageant is patterned after the Miss Universe extravaganza with the winner of the national competition going on to represent her country at Miss Wheelchair World. September 2017 was the inaugural debut of the Canadian pageant and was organized by Tabassum’s friend Olesya Kornienko, president of the Wheelchair Dance Sports Association of Canada. Olesya is presenting alongside Tabassum.
Finding a venue, soliciting sponsors and recruiting contestants was no mean feat, much less for a person with cerebral palsy.
“She put in a lot of hard work, a lot of time,” says Tabassum. “It took her about 10 months to put everything together.”
Tabassum screens pictures from the four-day event hoping her peers will follow her example and enter next year’s contest. Vahen King from Edmonton won the Canadian title; Tabassum was the first runner-up. Vahen then moved onto the Miss Wheelchair World competition in Poland last October, where she was voted Miss Kindness. Now that they have the inaugural Miss Wheelchair Canada under their belt, Tabassum and Olesya are anxious to expand.
“We want more participants and we want more spectators,” she says. “We want participants from different parts of Canada.”
And why not?
“We’re not trying to do things like an able-bodied person would do,” says Tabassum. “We’re only trying to be part of the mainstream. It’s all about inclusion. It’s all about being included in life. Even if I don’t get an award, I said to myself, just participating could be inspiration for others and that’s exactly what I was trying to do – inspire others to rise.”
The youngest of three siblings, Tabassum grew up in a large, multi-generational house in Karachi, Pakistan.
“My dad had a very entrepreneurial spirit,” she says. In Canada, we think nothing of popping into a Loblaws or Safeway for groceries, but, according to Tabassum, large western-style supermarkets were a very novel concept in Pakistan in the 1990s. “He was the first one to start a self-serve supermarket in Karachi,” she says. When asked if she thinks she has inherited his gung-ho, entrepreneurial spirit, she replies “I strongly believe so. I hope so.” She has enrolled in the Self-Employment Program at the BC Institute of Technology, with the intention of establishing her own business.
Like other Pakistani children, at the time, Tabassum was immunized for polio, but the serum was administered orally, not injected. She took the drops but contracted polio, nevertheless, at age one.
“It was either a bad batch or it was just not working. I still got polio. It started as a flu-like illness and, by the time that subsided, my mother found I didn’t want to move.” The doctor said ‘well, it’s unfortunate, but your daughter’s been paralyzed in one leg by polio.”
She wore a series of braces, above the knee, below the knee and, at one time, a boot. It constricted her movement and made her stand out from others.
“I was never able to play with other children,” says Tabassum. “I was never able to take part in physical activities like other children. I have never been able to run. At school, I used to get pushed around. I was angry at that because I was not like everyone else. I used to ask myself, ‘why am I different? Why can’t I do everything that other children are doing?’ So, it did make me very, very angry.”
She played with her siblings and her cousins instead.
“There was never a time when I was sitting alone or reading books or sulking and crying or feeling sorry for myself,” she says defiantly.
Determined she was no different from anybody else, she pursued a medical degree at Karachi University.
“I was going to med school with other girls and boys and I didn’t want to go in my braces. I just said to myself, ‘to hell with it. I’m not going to wear these braces because they’re ugly.’ I was a teenager. Teenagers talk like that.”
She left Pakistan after graduation – “Things were pretty bad; the level of corruption was skyrocketing.” – and immigrated to Los Angeles. In 1994, she moved to Vancouver and took a job as a research assistant at St. Paul’s Hospital. Other positions followed – as a laboratory manager and as a histologist – until a colleague suggested she pursue a career in medical research. In 2004, she enrolled at UBC, eventually attaining her master’s degree in cellular and molecular biology.
“I was in bio-medical research for several years with professors and assistant professors hashing out a lot of data. It was monotonous. It got me to a point where I was thinking, ‘yes, I’m getting a paycheque but am I enjoying doing what I’m doing?’ And I wasn’t. So, from that, using my medical background, I moved to medical claims examiner with a travel insurance company because I wanted a change.”
Her body was changing, too.
“Once you hit 45 or 50, post-polio syndrome shows up. The fatigue level increases, there’s a loss of a balance, aches and pains. Sleeping problems can arise. For me, walking had become extremely difficult to impossible.”
Now in a wheelchair, Tabassum toiled at the travel insurance company for nine years until the pain became unbearable. “I got to a point where I just couldn’t manage the stress of a nine-to-five job and I decided to quit altogether.”
She enjoyed being out of work for awhile; sleeping in, going out, meeting friends, knitting, reading and catching up on things she had put on the back burner for years. But, more importantly, she finally found peace.
“In my 20s and 30s, I was fighting this uphill battle and, each time, I was fighting a battle I was losing. But I kept fighting because I didn’t know any better,” she says of the years she spent fretting over her appearance. “When I hit my forties, I realized, ‘what the heck if I am in a wheelchair, if I am walking on my hands instead of my legs, who cares?’ What is important is who I am, and that is when I had accepted being in a wheelchair and using a wheelchair. It’s okay if I have a disability. It’s okay if I cannot walk and run like others. People will find me as attractive, as sexy and as desirable as anyone else. That was the biggest motivation that got me into the Miss Wheelchair pageant,” she adds.
Her daily routine has changed. She tires easily, but she looks after herself – “I sleep quite a bit and I don’t drink or smoke. I conserve my energy” – allowing her to look after her 83-year-old mother and to work part-time from home for Travel for All as an accessible travel expert.
“We are the people who have access to those resources. We know the suppliers and the vendors.” And, as a frequent wheelchair traveller herself, Tabassum can pass on her experiences in the field.
“I can talk about Egypt. Egypt is very inaccessible, but they will [physically] carry you no matter how and take you to whatever you want to see, wherever you want to go and make sure you have a good time. Of course, you have to generously tip them, but they will make it happen for you.”
She’s careful with her health, but post-polio syndrome hasn’t dampened her spirit. Like when she zip-lined in Whistler. “They make sure that they harness you nice and tight, remove the wheelchair from under you and off you go.” Or when she’s dancing. The Wheelchair Dance Sports people provide able-bodied instructors who guide their charges through various routines, primarily ballroom and Latin.
“You just have fun. You just feel the excitement, the emotions, and the chemistry with your partner and you do the dance moves. You do those positions to the best of your ability.”
Nor has she cut back on her charitable pursuits. An immigrant herself, Tabassum helps newcomers who are struggling with money, health, marital or health problems.
“I’m involved in a program in the Islamali community called the Quality of Life Program. When a family needs support, they’ll contact a team leader in the community centre. Once their needs are accessed, we have people who can help with housing or finding a job or a better paying job. We have women who can provide counselling on marital problems. That’s the component I’m involved with, where a mother needs to be well-equipped to take care of the family and take care of the children.”
Tabassum also participates in the annual World Partnership Walk, a fundraiser organized by the Aga Khan Foundation to help developing nations with their education and health needs. The Canadian International Development Agency (CIDA) matches, and sometimes exceeds, every dollar raised.
“I am just a fundraiser. Even if I raise just a thousand dollars every year, I’m very proud of myself because those thousand dollars are multiplied up to three times and three thousand goes a very long way in India, Pakistan or Bangladesh.”
Given her own issues with fatigue, it’s surprising she spends so much time helping others.
“It’s a very invigorating and exhilarating feeling when you see someone happy, when you’ve brought a smile that was not there before. It doesn’t matter what aches and pains I’m going through. It all seems very trivial.”
Meanwhile, back at the Connectra meeting in mid-town Vancouver, several women have approached Tabassum for more information on the 2018 Miss Wheelchair Canada pageant. She feels she’s made inroads. It validates her belief in inclusion, in participating in life.
“When I saw that glint in those women’s faces, that excitement, I was so happy that I touched some spot on their heart. And I thought to myself, this is awesome. I’ve done my job.”
The pageant worked for her; she’s convinced it will work for others.
“It was such a great experience for me. I felt like a complete woman. It brought out so many emotions and feelings that I had never faced before. They were always there, but I had somehow been able to suppress them. Now I am able to face them. It was empowering. So, today, I don’t expect people to look at my wheelchair. I expect them to see me for who I am; and they do see me for who I am despite the wheelchair. Show the world you can be as good as anyone, even better. Even better. That is the motto I have lived by.”
For more information about the World Partnership Walk, visit www.worldpartnershipwalk.com
For more information about Miss Wheelchair Canada, visit www.misswheelchaircanada.ca
For more information about Travel for All, visit https://travel-for-all.com
4,394 views
Lovely and inspirational story! Way to go Tabassum!