The Ekurhuleni Spirit Games are meant to celebrate inclusion, dignity and the undeniable talent of people living with disabilities.

But as I made my way to John Barrable Hall on November 21 for this year’s event – dodging potholes deep enough to swallow a small hatchback – it was hard not to question whether the City of Ekurhuleni (CoE) truly believes in the spirit it claims to champion.

The event, launched in 2007 with noble intentions, remains one of the few annual occasions where disabled residents are placed at the centre. Yet, for all the fanfare, the city’s commitment feels as shaky as the road leading to the venue for this year’s games.

Once inside, the atmosphere was heartwarming. People who are rarely given the platform to express themselves competed with joy and pride in games like foot golf and tug-of-war. It was a simple but powerful reminder that, indeed, there is no “dis” in their abilities.

The participants embraced the moment, proving once again that talent and spirit flourish when given space to shine.

But that’s exactly the problem: space is given only once a year. Inclusion cannot be an annual checkbox exercise disguised as a celebration.

Also Read: The Corner Flag: Frith van der Merwe deserves more than applause

Too much about the day felt like a municipality putting on a performance – a carefully staged event meant to be seen, photographed and spoken about, rather than a genuine, lived commitment to improving the daily lives of those living with disabilities.

If the city truly valued inclusion, it would start with the basics: accessible, safe, well-maintained sporting and recreational facilities in every community. Facilities where disabled athletes don’t just participate for one day, but can train, compete, and grow throughout the year.

How about dedicated venues for different disabilities? How about regular leagues, tournaments or cultural showcases that build confidence and create lasting opportunities? Instead of annual applause, how about sustained investment?

Because the reality on the ground tells a different story. We live in a city where a once-proud Benoni Town Hall is deteriorating, tennis courts are collapsing, and swimming pools are becoming unusable.

Suppose officials can drive into John Barrable Hall without flinching at the cratered road leading to the entrance. Why would they worry about the state of para-sports facilities or the lived experiences of people with disabilities?

The Spirit Games are a beautiful idea – well-intentioned, uplifting, and much-needed. But ideas mean nothing without action. If the CoE truly wants residents living with disabilities to feel included, valued and seen, then one day of celebration each year won’t cut it.

Real inclusion lives in accessible neighbourhoods, maintained facilities, and regular opportunities to thrive. Until that becomes the norm, the Spirit Games will remain just that: spirit without substance. And honestly, I’m not holding my breath.

Also Read: The Corner Flag: A champion’s stride against stereotypes