Credit: Dusan Stankovic
Credit: Dusan Stankovic

Participatory development storytelling and the reality of decolonising narratives in humanitarian communications

As the world becomes increasingly digital, saturated and noisy – especially with the rise of AI – authenticity is becoming harder to recognise and even harder to trust.

In this environment, storytelling is often positioned as a tool to “cut through the noise.” But when done with intention, storytelling is more than a communication strategy. It is a mechanism for human connection, accountability and trust.

In development and humanitarian contexts, trust is foundational. It shapes how communities engage with institutions, how policies are received and whether programmes have lasting impact. Storytelling plays a critical role in building that trust – but only when it is rooted in truth, context and responsibility.

But storytelling has not always been used this way.

The legacy of extractive storytelling

Much of development communication today remains shaped by post-World War II aid structures, where decision making has historically been driven by top-down models led by external actors.

Across these systems, priorities, funding decisions and measures of success have often been defined outside the communities where aid is provided. As a result, communities have rarely been meaningfully involved in setting agendas, shaping programmes or influencing the narratives shared about their lives.

Those foundations still influence how policy is written, how programmes are designed and how stories are told.

Why narrative change cannot be separated from systems change

Communities are not simply sources of stories; they are holders of knowledge. Yet storytelling in development often remains extractive – gathering people’s experiences without their meaningful involvement, compensation, authorship or accountability.

Decolonising storytelling is not only about changing language or increasing representation. It is about shifting narrative authority – asking who tells the story, who is excluded from telling it, who benefits and who has the power to shape what is included and what is left out.

If we are serious about decolonising storytelling, we cannot continue to centre control with donors, organisations and external actors. This is particularly true during the programme design and ideation phases, where narratives are often formed before communities are meaningfully involved.

If storytelling continues to sit outside of power structures, it risks reinforcing the inequalities it seeks to address.

Representation, power and policy

The way communities are represented directly influences which problems are prioritised, which solutions are considered viable and whose knowledge is taken seriously in decision-making.

Participatory, dignified storytelling allows policymakers and practitioners to see beyond a single moment of vulnerability. It reveals lived experiences, local capability and the systems people are already navigating. This critical context is often lost in deficit-based narratives.

Asset-based storytelling does not minimise hardship. It strengthens policy design by pairing evidence of need with insight into community strengths, behaviours and priorities.

The shift: from extraction to conversation

One of the most important shifts in storytelling practice is moving from extraction to conversation.

Community conversation dismantles assumptions, challenges misconceptions and creates shared understanding. When people from different backgrounds are in dialogue, knowledge is exchanged, lived experiences become visible and more grounded solutions emerge.

So why isn’t this standard practice?

In many training sessions I’ve facilitated, organisations and media professionals often cite time as the main constraint. In reality, this is often about budget and priorities. The space needed for listening, trust-building and meaningful engagement is usually the first thing to be reduced.

If we want lived realities to shape policy – and for development to be sustainable – conversation cannot be optional. It is essential.

It also helps address implicit bias by taking time to understand how people actually experience programmes, rather than producing a single narrative that neither reflects reality nor improves practice.

A personal reckoning with narrative

My understanding of storytelling began with lived experience.

For decades, journalists framed my story through a single narrativeone that defined me by circumstance rather than possibility. That version followed me for over 20 years.

Creating my first autobiographical documentary in 2017 was an act of reclaiming authorship. It allowed me to reintroduce complexity into a story that had been told without care, consent or consideration for my future.

Yet even after that, many retellings continued without collaboration or safeguarding. Each time, I left feeling drained, and at times retraumatised.

I knew there had to be another way to tell stories. One that does not extract, expose or exhaust the person at the centre.

That experience shaped and continues to shape my practice. It led me to approach storytelling not just as content creation, but as a system that influences programmes, policy and decision-making.

Why participatory storytelling matters

Participatory storytelling is both a methodology and a mindset. It shifts storytelling from being about people to being with people.

When communities are involved in shaping narratives:

  • stories become more accurate and nuanced
  • trust is strengthened
  • programmes are better informed by lived experiences
  • policy is more grounded in reality.

It also redistributes power by recognising lived experiences as expertise.

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What policy storytelling done well looks like

Effective policy storytelling is clear, human and grounded.

It moves away from jargon and answers a simple question: How does this policy affect daily life?

It connects systems to lived experiences, highlights both challenges and opportunities, and creates a bridge between evidence and empathy.

Done well, it:

  • centres lived experiences without reducing people to their challenges
  • provides context, not just emotion
  • connects individual stories to systemic patterns
  • makes pathways to action visible.

Storytelling can be a bridge between lived experiences and policy, communities and institutions, intention and impact. But only if we are willing to shift power, invest in process and remain accountable to the people whose stories shape our work.

Because storytelling is not just about being heard.

It is about who gets to be understoodand what changes because of it.