Lost legs: why airlines need to step up their treatment of wheelchair users

As worldwide cases of discrimination at airports soar, actor and writer Jamila Main shares her story of being stranded overseas, without her wheelchair, for five days. 

If there was a risk you would lose your legs due to air travel, would you fly?

I have three incurable chronic diseases which are ravaging my insides, and a wheelchair allows me to function with less pain and more energy. 

For me and millions of others, our wheelchairs are our legs. We use them to journey to places as mundane as the toilet and as extraordinary as far-flung countries. They help us to work and play, and fulfil our basic bodily functions and needs. 

My wheelchair has changed my life. It has given me back freedom.

With the return of international travel, I planned a working holiday to Scotland to visit my family. I’ve flown domestically within Australia with my wheelchair and have experienced local mistreatment of disabled passengers and our mobility aids, but this would be my first international flight with my wheelchair.

Despite needing to use my wheelchair more and more, and often finding myself unable to cook or travel to the bathroom without it, I was reluctant to bring my wheelchair with me. I dreaded the airline damaging or losing it.

In the US, roughly 29 wheelchairs or scooters are lost or damaged by airlines per day, so you can understand why I was hesitant to take the risk. 

I’ve also not had great treatment in the past. When I’ve flown as a wheelchair user, I’ve been referred to as “the wheelchair” instead of by my name. I’ve been left by airline staff in empty corridors without explanation or knowing when to expect them to come back for me. 

Despite all of this, I remained hopeful. I decided to bring my hot-pink and black wheelchair to Scotland.

When I landed in Edinburgh Airport after 25 hours of travel, which I’d spent managing high levels of disabling, agonising pain, my beloved wheelchair was nowhere to be found.

A lost wheelchair is so much more than misplaced baggage. This isn’t an inconvenience I can manage with a quick trip to the shops for toiletries and some new undies. My wheelchair is a part of me. I miss it. I need it. I love it. I hate being separated from it, especially when I don’t know where it is, or even what continent it’s on.

My distress was exacerbated by the abysmal customer service of Qatar Airways. My lost baggage claim to Edinburgh Airport went unanswered when I submitted it via email as directed, which left me without the almighty ‘file reference number’. Without it, I was unable to file claims with my travel insurance or with Qatar Airways, which would only communicate with me via Twitter DMs.

For five days I was without my wheelchair. I was unable to relieve my pain by using my chair and I was preoccupied with worry. Where was my chair? Would I get it back? Would I be able to independently move around Scotland without it?

Five days after I landed, a friend who works at Edinburgh Airport found my wheelchair with some lost bags and dropped it off to me. Qatar Airways stopped replying to me once I told them it was found. No information has been provided as to what happened to the chair. 

I’m relieved to have my wheelchair back, but am already dreading the return flight home with Qatar Airways in September. Will my chair make it back to Adelaide with me? Will I go through this traumatic process again?

For people like me, our wheelchairs are our freedom. Airlines need to step up and drastically improve their treatment of disabled people, our mobility aids, and our access needs. One lost wheelchair is one too many.

Hireup contacted Qatar airways for a response to Jamila's article. In an email, the airline said: “Please rest assured that we have been made aware of this situation and are currently looking into it and have opened an investigation. Qatar Airways stresses the importance of ensuring customers with disabilities are treated with utmost respect and importance. We will be reaching out to Jamila shortly.”