Jacques Balolage, Deaf Community Leader, Democratic Republic of Congo

By Jacques Balolage, Deaf Community Leader, Democratic Republic of Congo

Jacques Balolage Mulimbwa is a Deaf leader and advocate from the Democratic Republic of the Congo. His work focuses on disability inclusion, accessible education, youth leadership, and human rights in conflict-affected settings.

I Wrote My thesis defense on the Blackboard,
My Voice Is in Sign Language

I am a Deaf leader from the Democratic Republic of the Congo. My work stands at the intersection of disability rights, inclusive education, ethical leadership, and human dignity. I was born in the DRC and raised in Goma, North Kivu, a region shaped by conflict, uncertainty, and resilience. I am the sixth of eight children, and I grew up in a family that loved me, supported me, and helped me believe that my Deafness was never a reason to reduce my dreams.

From an early age, I understood that access is not simply about being present in a room. It is about being able to participate fully, to communicate freely, and to be recognized with dignity. For Deaf people, this remains a daily struggle in many parts of Africa. We are often invited into systems that are still designed without us. We are told that education is open to everyone, but the language of instruction, assessment, and opportunity often excludes us. We are told that inclusion matters, but our communication is still treated as optional.

My academic journey taught me both the power of ambition and the cost of exclusion. In 2017, I graduated from secondary school in commercial and computer studies as the first Deaf student in my class. I chose accounting because I wanted to understand institutions, responsibility, and leadership. Later, I enrolled at the Institut Supérieur de Commerce, where I earned a graduate qualification in accounting with distinction in 2021 and a bachelor’s degree in commercial and financial sciences in 2023.

But academic success did not protect me from discrimination. During my public thesis defense in 2021, sign language, although essential as my means of communication with an interpreter, was denied to me. Members of the jury insisted that I respond by writing on the blackboard instead of using sign language. I complied because I wanted to finish my defense, but the experience stayed with me. It was not simply an inconvenience. It was a denial of linguistic access and of my identity as a Deaf person.

During my 2021 public thesis defense, I was made to answer on the blackboard instead of being allowed to use sign language through interpretation.

That moment captured a larger truth: many institutions claim to value merit, yet they still resist the accommodations that make merit visible. When a Deaf student is prevented from using sign language, the problem is not the student’s capacity. The problem is the institution’s refusal to recognize Deaf communication as legitimate. Accessibility cannot be treated as a favor. It is a right.

This is why I speak not only about inclusion, but also about ambition. Too often, society expects persons with disabilities to be grateful for small openings and to keep their dreams modest. Families, schools, employers, and communities may unintentionally lower expectations for us, believing they are protecting us. But low expectations can become another form of exclusion. When disabled children are overprotected, when Deaf youth are not encouraged to lead, when employers assume we should settle for less, society teaches us to shrink ourselves before we even begin.

I reject that message. I believe Deaf people and other persons with disabilities must be free to be ambitious. We must be free to study, to lead, to build careers, to defend rights, to create organizations, and to shape public life. Ambition is not arrogance. It is the refusal to accept a future designed by other people’s limitations.

That belief has guided my work. Today, I serve as Executive Director of Equal Access Innovators, where I have helped lead inclusive programs that have reached more than 1,500 Deaf and disabled people. These initiatives have focused on access to education, sign language communication, leadership development, and social inclusion. I have also served as National Coordinator of Rise for Impact in the DRC, supporting more than 500 young leaders across Central and East Africa in civic engagement, social entrepreneurship, peacebuilding, and community leadership.

Speaking and signing during a public event on inclusion and leadership.

My work is rooted in the conviction that disability inclusion must not be separated from the wider struggle for justice. In conflict-affected settings, human dignity is fragile. Violence, displacement, poverty, and repression affect entire communities, but they often place disabled people at even greater risk. Human rights defenders also work under constant threat. In my province, many defenders live in insecurity and deep precarity. They are exposed to risk from both state actors and armed groups. Yet they continue because silence would be another kind of violence.

Meeting with young people and community members in a shared discussion space.

For me, defending human rights includes defending the right of Deaf people to language, education, safety, and public participation. It means advocating for inclusive education not as charity, but as a strategy for justice and peace. It means creating environments where young people with disabilities are not merely protected, but trusted, equipped, and expected to lead. It also means challenging systems that see access as expensive, difficult, or secondary. Exclusion is what costs us most.

Community engagement and leadership work in the field.

I have learned that inclusion is not built only in policy documents or conference rooms. It is also built in classrooms, community meetings, workshops, families, and everyday conversations. It is built when a Deaf student is allowed to sign without argument. It is built when interpretation is treated as essential. It is built when disabled youth are encouraged to imagine themselves as professionals, organizers, and decision-makers. It is built when human rights work includes all of us.

I continue this work because I know that many Deaf children and young people are still facing the barriers I encountered. I want them to see that our stories do not end with exclusion. We can become graduates, educators, advocates, coordinators, and directors. We can speak through sign language, through writing, through organizing, and through action. Our voices are real in every form they take.

My message is simple: do not confuse silence with absence, and do not confuse barriers with inability. Deaf people do not need pity. We need access, recognition, and space to lead. When society finally accepts that, inclusion will stop being a slogan and start becoming a lived reality.

Until then, I will continue to insist on what should never have been negotiable in the first place: the right to communicate, the right to belong, and the right to be ambitious.

About the contributor

Jacques Balolage, Deaf Community Leader, Democratic Republic of Congo

Jacques Balolage Mulimbwa is a Deaf leader and advocate from the Democratic Republic of the Congo. His work focuses on disability inclusion, accessible education, youth leadership, and human rights in conflict-affected settings.