As a young adult, my world began to fade before I had fully seen it. The subtle yet persistent loss of vision became a constant in my life — an invisible shadow that followed me through my studies, through friendships, and through moments that were meant to define the person I was becoming. For over a decade, I sought answers. Specialist after specialist, doctor after doctor, yet clarity — both literal and medical — continued to elude me. It was only after years of uncertainty that I was finally diagnosed with Stargardt’s disease.

At the time, I was studying towards my LLB degree, determined to carve a future for myself as an attorney. But the diagnosis shook my foundation. I believed, then, that my life was over before it had even begun. The emotional toll of having to appear fine — while internally crumbling — was one of the most isolating experiences I’ve ever known. How do you explain to people that you’re visually impaired when you still walk unaided, when you still smile, when they can’t see the daily battle you’re fighting?

I struggled mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and physically. My confidence dissolved into unworthiness, and I questioned whether there was any space for someone like me in a world that prizes perfection. But as life so often does, it introduced me to a beacon of hope: Claudette Medefindt from Retina South Africa. That single phone call changed the course of my journey. Her empathy, wisdom, and unwavering commitment became my guide. In her, and in Retina South Africa, I found not only understanding — but empowerment.

Retina South Africa helped me find purpose in the pain. Through their work, I discovered that education and awareness are vital tools in breaking the silence surrounding visual impairments. I began to see beyond my diagnosis — to understand that while my sight may be limited, my vision for impact, justice, equality and empathy remains boundless.

This journey has not been easy. I have faced prejudice in professional spaces, fought for basic accommodations, and had to continuously prove that my abilities extend far beyond what others could perceive. Yet through these challenges, I have found my voice — not just as a legal professional, but as a disability rights advocate.

I have since created the term “Corporate Compassion” — a call to action for workplaces to build inclusive forums, educate teams, and foster environments that do not merely accommodate disability but embrace differences and practices transformation. Disability does not mark the end of a meaningful life — it marks the beginning of a “differently-abled” one.

To those walking this path: I want you to know that you are not alone. In the moments when everything feels blurry and hope seems dim, there is a way forward. It begins with understanding your condition, seeking the right support, and believing in your inherent worth. My own pillars have been:

1. Education — Know the facts. It gives clarity when the world does not.
2. Mental Resilience — Some days will be hard, but your strength is born in the dark.
3. Community — Whether through friends, family, or Retina South Africa — find your circle of strength.
4. Find meaning in your journey – it is in giving and contributing to anything meaningful to you, where you discover your worth, ignite your passion, a trust in a divine source greater than your comprehension that offers unwavering grace.

Today, I stand not only as Deputy Chair of this remarkable foundation, but as someone living proof that adversity can birth advocacy. That blurred vision can sharpen purpose. And that with the right support, belief, and compassion — there truly is a vision beyond sight.