Denied schooling until the age of 18 because of brittle bone disease and a 90 per cent disability, 25-year-old Ruchita Sahukari from Telangana is now pursuing a postgraduate diploma in English Journalism at the Indian Institute of Mass Communication (IIMC), Dhenkanal, attending classes in a wheelchair with her mother by her side and her batchmates helping her navigate the campus.
Her journey brings together years of medical struggles, a family that refused to give up, and an NGO in Kerala that convinced her to resume her education after being shut out of formal schooling in childhood.
IIMC officials, including the regional director and faculty members, say her admission has pushed the institute to invest in accessibility features and reaffirm its commitment to inclusive education, even as her bylines and a national award for disability advocacy highlight how many students with disabilities are still left behind.
‘From Being Left Out To Leading Stories’
Born in a village in Telangana with osteogenesis imperfecta, commonly known as brittle bone disease, Ruchita spent most of her early years inside her home, where even a minor jerk or slip could lead to a painful fracture.
Her parents, already struggling with the trauma of repeated hospital visits, were often advised that sending her to school would be “too risky”, and schools in the vicinity lacked basic accessibility and were unwilling to take responsibility for a child who needed special care.
As a result, while other children in her neighbourhood walked to class, she watched from the sidelines, internalising the message that education was “not meant” for a girl like her.
The turning point came when her family came in contact with Amrithavarshini, a Kerala-based support group and NGO for people with brittle bone disease, whose members many of them wheelchair users themselves encouraged her not only to continue treatment but also to reclaim her right to education.
With their emotional backing and her parents’ support, she enrolled in the Bachelor Preparatory Programme offered by IGNOU, managing distance education despite health issues and limited mobility. After clearing that bridge course, she completed a BA in Sociology and English Literature in 2023, opening the door to her long-held dream of becoming a journalist and giving voice to people who, like her, had been pushed to the margins.
As she gained confidence, Ruchita began writing articles and opinion pieces on disability rights, accessibility, and everyday discrimination, contributing to platforms and newspapers that were willing to publish her work.
Her pieces raised questions about whether public spaces, festivals, transport, and educational institutions were truly accessible, and she slowly moved from being someone “spoken about” to someone who shaped public conversations. This body of work later strengthened her application to IIMC, proving that while her body had been restricted, her perspective and journalistic instincts were anything but limited.
‘When A Campus Chooses To Change’
Her admission to IIMC Dhenkanal one of India’s premier journalism schools was both a personal victory and an institutional test. The campus, like many educational spaces in the country, was not originally designed with wheelchair users in mind, which meant that even simple activities like entering classrooms, accessing hostels, or using washrooms required serious rethinking.
Recognising these gaps, the administration undertook modifications such as building ramps, rearranging classroom seating, and allowing her mother to stay with her to assist with daily tasks, turning an abstract commitment to “inclusion” into visible, material changes.
Regional Director Prof (Dr) Anand K Pradhan has been quoted as saying that supporting Ruchita is not an act of charity but an affirmation of the institute’s core values and its responsibility to uphold dignity and equal opportunity.
Faculty members like assistant professor Biranchi Narayan Seth have also spoken about how her lived experience of disability brings a sharper, more empathetic lens to classroom discussions, pushing fellow students to think beyond standard news angles and question whose stories get told and whose are ignored.
Her classmates, too, have become active participants in this shift: they push her wheelchair from her rented accommodation to the campus, help her move between classes, and often describe their support as “contributing to a larger cause” rather than merely “helping a friend”.
Beyond the campus, Ruchita’s growing profile has been recognised by the Organisation for Rare Diseases India, which honoured her with the Rare Star Award for her advocacy around brittle bone disease and disability rights. She has also written for national and regional outlets such as The Hans India, covering issues that range from inaccessible festival grounds to the struggles and aspirations of other persons with disabilities, thereby building a portfolio that combines rigorous reporting with first-hand understanding.
Her journey reflects a larger reality: while a handful of institutions and organisations step up to accommodate disabled students, many others still lack ramps, accessible toilets, trained support staff, or even the willingness to adjust rules, leaving countless young people effectively excluded from mainstream education.
The Logical Indian’s Perspective
For The Logical Indian, this is more than an uplifting human-interest story; it is a mirror held up to the education system and to society at large. Ruchita’s courage, her parents’ persistence, the NGO’s intervention, and IIMC’s efforts together show what becomes possible when empathy and structural support come together, but they also remind us that no child should have to wait until the age of 18 and cross state boundaries to access what is, in law, a fundamental right. Her story underlines that inclusion cannot be left to individual goodwill alone; it must be built into policies, budgets, building plans, teacher training, transport, and examination systems, so that accessibility is the default and not an afterthought.
