Written by Michelle Sakande
Michelle Sakande is an Inclusion Specialist, consultant, speaker and the author of Jude the Giant. She is currently the SENDCo at the Arbor School, Dubai. Michelle works across the UAE and Africa to support schools, communities, and policymakers in building equitable education systems. With expertise in special educational needs, assistive technology and inclusive literacy, she blends research-driven strategies with authentic storytelling to inspire change.
Inclusion is one of those words we all use, but we rarely define it the same way. In some parts of the world, inclusion means a child with autism sits in the same classroom as their peers. In others, it means a child simply has access to any education, regardless of ability. For some, it means policy. For others, it’s a prayer or a wish.
The truth? Inclusion isn’t a checklist; it’s a cultural conversation. But depending on where the soil, sand, grass or pavement you’re standing on is, that conversation sounds very different.
Inclusion in Context, A Global Mosaic
In Ghana, a child with learning differences may never be assessed or diagnosed. According to UNICEF, only 8% of children with disabilities attend school regularly and most teachers receive little to no training on neurodiversity. Cultural stigma plays a role too, especially as some families still hide their children due to fear or shame. Here, inclusion often starts not in the classroom, but in the mindset of the community. Across Africa, resources can be stretched, but innovation thrives. In Kenya, low-cost assistive tech is reforming access. In Nigeria, mother led advocacy groups are raising awareness. Still, inclusion is often treated as a charitable act, not a right.
Contrast that with Finland, which is consistently ranked one of the most inclusive education systems in the world. There, early screening, flexible curricula and a zero-stigma approach allows students to receive support before they fall behind. Around 32% of Finnish students receive special education services at some point, not because they’re failing, but because the system adapts to them.
In Singapore, inclusion is more structured, but highly academic. Neurodivergent students may attend special schools or units within mainstream ones. There’s investment, but still a strong cultural preference for high performance, which can leave some children feeling excluded within an ‘inclusive’ system. And in Japan, progress is slow but steady. A 2022 survey showed that only 13% of schools had fulltime special needs support teachers, although social awareness is rising because of advocacy by parents and NGOs.
Even in the UAE, where huge strides have been made in inclusive policy, implementation varies drastically from one school to another. There’s an appetite for change, but real inclusion can’t thrive without systemic accountability and sustained cultural sensitivity.
What does this mean for neurodivergent students?
For neurodivergent students, the definition of inclusion is often felt in small moments:
Is my difference seen as a deficit or a gift?
Am I supported to thrive, or just to survive?
Do I belong here or am I being tolerated?
What is inclusive in Finland may feel isolating in Ghana. What is normalized in Tokyo may be stigmatized in Accra. There is no one size fits all. But there is a shared goal: dignity, access and belonging.
So… What is Inclusion?
Inclusion is the right to participate fully in life at your own pace, with the support you need and the freedom to be your full self. It must be rooted in context, culture and care. It must be flexible enough to honour difference and firm enough to insist on equity. It’s important not to export models that don’t translate… Listen deeply, learn locally and lead with humanity. Because true inclusion doesn’t start with policy. It starts with people.