In a Banjul courtroom, a man who cannot see the faces before him still listens closely to the rhythm of voices, papers and argument, and so sits in judgment over ordinary disputes and crimes. Muhammed Krubally, who became the Gambia's first visually impaired magistrate in 2016, stands at the meeting point of a personal journey and a national promise, one written into a 2021 law that guarantees dignity, access and equal participation. Yet the promise has not yet reached every classroom, budget line or public building, and the institutions that might carry it forward have so far remained silent.
The Gambia's First Blind Magistrate Tests a System Built for the Sighted
Entering an institution is not the same as being equipped to participate in it
Mark
Why is one magistrate's story worth this much attention?
Mimi
Because it's both proof and test. He has presided over more than 1,000 cases since 2016, so the capability question is answered. What's left is whether the system around him has changed.
Luke
And on that, the reporting is silent. The judiciary didn't respond about accommodations, so we don't know what the court provides beyond what he describes himself.
Mark
What does he describe?
Mimi
A screen reader, AI glasses, his clerk, and a lot of listening and memory. Much of it is personal adaptation.
Luke
Worth noting that's his account. Nobody independent has described how the court operates for him.
Mark
Does the evidence on schools support the broader complaint?
Mimi
Partly. Lamin Colley says one special-needs teacher can't cover a whole cluster, and that little has changed since the 2021 act.
Luke
That's one educator's view, including his explanation about budget funding. The ministry gave no response, so it's unanswered rather than disproven.
Mark
And the census figure?
Mimi
1.2 percent, 21,873 people, from 2013, and likely an undercount because of the questions used.
Luke
Right, and the newer census gave no detailed disability data yet. So the true scale is unknown.
El Pulso
- A blind magistrate presides over packed courtrooms, relying on screen readers, AI glasses and his clerk to keep pace with proceedings.
- Pupils at the Resource Centre for the Blind face strained support, with overstretched special-needs teachers and scarce learning materials.
- The 2021 Persons with Disabilities Act sits largely unfulfilled, while the ministry and judiciary have not answered questions about implementation.
- Disability counts remain unreliable, leaving policymakers with figures that may understate how many people are affected.
- Krubally keeps pressing forward, mentoring young visually impaired people and insisting that the future holds possibility.
In a Banjul courtroom, a man who cannot see the faces before him still listens closely to the rhythm of voices, papers and argument, and so sits in judgment over ordinary disputes and crimes. Muhammed Krubally, who became the Gambia's first visually impaired magistrate in 2016, stands at the meeting point of a personal journey and a national promise, one written into a 2021 law that guarantees dignity, access and equal participation. Yet the promise has not yet reached every classroom, budget line or public building, and the institutions that might carry it forward have so far remained silent. His story asks what it truly means for a society to make room at its bench, and whether the room has been made.
Magistrate Muhammed Krubally arrives early at the Banjul Magistrates' Court and goes over the day's files with his clerk. When he walks into a packed courtroom, the room goes quiet, and he begins to preside by listening: to a lawyer rising, a witness speaking, papers moving. A screen reader called JAWS lets him read judgments, and AI-enabled glasses help him handle tasks on his own. He is 41 and has heard more than 1,000 civil and criminal cases since 2016, when he became the Gambia's first visually impaired magistrate.
He grew up in a Central River Region village, the second of nine children, and wanted to be a lawyer early on, to defend his own rights and those of other people with disabilities. School offered him little: scarce resources and barriers that sighted classmates never met. Some teachers and classmates discouraged him, and that discouragement, he says, only kept him going. He took the bench to change the system and make it inclusive. He now also leads the Gambia Federation of the Disabled.
The Persons with Disabilities Act of 2021 promises independence, non-discrimination and access to justice, but the gap between law and life is wide. At the Resource Centre for the Blind, 49 pupils learn before moving into mainstream schools, where overstretched special-needs teachers struggle to keep in touch with every child. Its head, Lamin Colley, says little has changed since the act passed. Others echo this: parliamentarian Ndey Yassin Secka-Sallah, who wanted independence rather than special treatment, and journalism lecturer Musa Barrow, who has faced doubts from students but answers simply that he can do more than sighted people.
The scale of the problem is also hard to see. The 2013 census put disability prevalence at 1.2 percent, but its narrow questions may have undercounted people, and a newer census lacked detailed disability data.
Krubally now mentors young people, many of them visually impaired, telling them that things are possible. The ministry and judiciary have not yet said what accommodations exist or what has changed. Asked about the future, he offers a single line: "All I see is possibility."
Magistrate Muhammed Krubally arrives early at the Banjul Magistrates' Court. Before the first case, his clerk takes him through the day's files, making sure everything is in place, and Krubally listens, asks questions and prepares to preside. Then he walks into a packed courtroom, where lawyers, witnesses and relatives have gathered for a criminal case, and the room goes quiet.
Krubally cannot see the people in front of him, but he can hear them: a lawyer rising, a witness speaking, papers moving across the room. At his desk, a screen reader called JAWS, short for Job Access With Speech, lets him navigate his computer and read documents and judgements. "This makes my job very easy," he told Al Jazeera. He also uses AI-enabled smart glasses to get information and do tasks on his own. Beyond the technology, he listens for voices, remembers details and follows the rhythm of proceedings, and when necessary he relies on his clerk.
Krubally is 41 and says he has presided over more than 1,000 civil and criminal cases. In 2016 he became the Gambia's first visually impaired magistrate, a distinction confirmed by the Gambia Organisation of the Visually Impaired (GOVI). He grew up in a village in the Central River Region, the second of nine children, and wanted to be a lawyer from an early age, partly to defend his own rights and partly to speak for others, especially people with disabilities. From primary school through university he faced limited resources and an education system that put obstacles in front of visually impaired students that sighted classmates did not face. Some fellow students and teachers discouraged him. "Their discouragement kept me going," he says. He became a magistrate, he says, "to change the system, to make it inclusive."
The law is on paper. The Persons with Disabilities Act, passed in 2021, sets out independence, non-discrimination, full participation, equality of opportunity and accessibility, with provisions on employment, public buildings and services, information and access to justice. The National Human Rights Commission has identified continuing barriers, including discrimination and difficulty reaching services, education and jobs. Al Jazeera asked the Ministry of Gender, Children and Social Welfare about implementation; it did not respond. Krubally also leads the Gambia Federation of the Disabled as its president.
The gaps show first in schools. GOVI's Resource Centre for the Blind currently teaches 49 pupils aged four to 14 before they move into mainstream schools, where special-needs teachers assigned to school clusters are supposed to support them. Lamin Colley, the centre's head of school, says limited learning materials and the size of the clusters strain that support, and one teacher cannot keep regular contact with every student. "Not much has changed after the disability act has been passed," he says, blaming in part insufficient disability funding in the national budget. He remembers Krubally as a pupil who loved the library and insisted on joining activities with sighted classmates.
Others describe the same gap. Ndey Yassin Secka-Sallah, nominated to the National Assembly and described by GOVI as the country's only visually impaired parliamentarian, says she depended on colleagues to know what was being discussed. She wanted independence, not special treatment. Five years after the act, she says, implementation is still a major challenge. Musa Barrow, who teaches media law and ethics to journalism students, uses digital tools to read, write and prepare lecture notes, saying technology broke that barrier for him. Some students have still questioned whether he can meet their standards. His answer: "I can do more than what sighted people can do."
The scale is hard to measure. The 2013 census recorded disability prevalence of 1.2 percent, or 21,873 people, but it used narrower questions and not the Washington Group questions commonly used to measure functional difficulty, so it may understate the true figure. Preliminary results of a newer census, released in September 2024, lacked detailed national disability data.
Krubally now mentors young people, many visually impaired. One, Modou Lamin Dampha, says Krubally advises him to keep going and tells him that things are possible. Al Jazeera also asked the judiciary what accommodations Krubally has, what accessibility measures exist for judicial officers and court users with disabilities, and what has changed since the act passed. It did not respond by publication. Whether the institution has adapted as he has remains open. Asked about the future, Krubally says: "All I see is possibility."
Citas Notables
I became a magistrate to change the system, to make it inclusive.— Muhammed Krubally
The reality on the ground is that not much has changed after the disability act has been passed.— Lamin Colley, head of school, GOVI Resource Centre for the Blind
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Crime & Justice