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Scenario Group 1: They said yes but…You arrive just before noon. The ground is still damp from the floods, and the air carries that humid heaviness that came with overflowing streams and brought devastation and fear. A local NGO partner greets you and leads you to the courtyard of a house where people are already gathered, seated in a circle. They are waiting because they have been told an important team of researchers is coming in to conduct a study. Before you can introduce yourself, the village leader (who is a friend of the NGO focal person) steps forward with a warm but firm authority. “These people will answer all your questions,” he says briefly and sits down. You begin, explaining your research, your intentions, your emphasis on participation and what to expect. A sheet is passed around and they all put their thumb prints on it. The village leader sits next to you all the time quietly watching. Some people nod. Others remain still. When you ask your questions, the responses are mostly brief. Before and after responding, they glance briefly toward the leader. As the discussion continues, a man daringly asks, “Will answering questions help us get aid?” Another person mutters to them, “We have done this before. Be quiet!” And both of them fall silent staring at their feet. Later, as people begin to leave, a woman with a child balanced precariously on her hip lingers behind. She approaches you quietly. “I really liked your session. We didn’t fully understand what this was about,” she says. “but we were told to come. So, we came. I hope you can do something for us.” She smiles sweetly and leaves. You realise: In this moment, what does meaningful, informed consent actually look like and what would you do next? ● people showed up, but may not have chosen to; refusing might not feel possible for many. expectations of relief/aid are shaping responses. their needs go beyond what you can or are allowed to offer in return. presence of authority is influencing what is said and what is not. ● ● ● And yet, you have already begun collecting data. Now you stand there, notebook and tape recorder in your hand, with people looking at you expectantly.

Scenario Group 2: This story could change everything…You sit across from her in a small house with tin roof. The fan turns slowly above you, barely cutting the overheated air. She begins cautiously, then slowly opens up. She speaks about displacement. About moving from one place to another as the heat waves intensified. About work that became harder to find. Then, more quietly, she shares something else — about harassment, the violence she faces daily in the new area, and things she has not told many people before, including about the son of a powerful politician who ‘visits’ her regularly. Her story stays with you. Back with your team during debrief, there is a shift in energy. “This is powerful,” someone says. “This is exactly what we need,” says the college student polishing his camera lens with an excited hungry glint in his eyes. You move on and do more interviews, collecting more stories. Eventually, you sit with your team, reviewing the material, notes, transcripts, footage, fragments of stories — some align, others contradict. There is richness here. There is complexity. Certain narratives are easier to frame. Others resist simplification. You keep coming back to her story. “This story is most impactful” says your partner. “We need a clear message,” someone else says. “Otherwise it won’t land.” The donor report is due soon. Advocacy materials and meetings are being planned. This film could really resonate, could make people listen, might even change policy and attitudes. You know somewhere at the back of your mind: What does it mean to represent her and others’ stories responsibly. Who decides how these are used? ● she never explicitly agreed to public sharing and it might even lead to retaliation against her. ● removing details protects her but dulls the impact; not using it feels like a lost opportunity. ● overall, some voices and stories become central, others fade into the background. ● simplification may erase important truths but complexity may weaken policy impact. Struggling with urgency and unease, your team looks toward you to balance clarity, accuracy and impact without flattening complexity? You feel responsible to her because of the time you have spent building a relationship with her, but you also have to report back to the organisation that trusted and funded your project.

Scenario Group 3: Whose research is this anyway…?You have been working closely with a coastal community group. They have helped you think differently about questions of climate change, about advocacy language, and what really matters when it comes to knowledge generation. You have made friends and have deep ties to this community. In fact, they are your community ina a way. Some of your most important work insights have emerged from conversations that didn’t feel like “data collection” at all — just people sitting together, asking questions and making sense of things together. Now you are back at your desk. Writing has begun. Structure settles in. The report is taking shape. You are quite proud of months (may be even years) of work coming together. You have been given a format for PowerPoint presentation, with the name and logo of the organisation that funded your project already on every slide. The donor requires formal outputs. The symposium deadline is also approaching. A big presentation must be made to policymakers in the capital who are willing to listen to the problems of local communities. A message comes in from someone in the community WhatsApp group you created at the beginning of the project: “Will we be credited?” You pause. This doesn’t feel like your work alone anymore. They all contributed to it. As you try to navigate this, another person asks, “I want to use this report to reach out to the local chapter of the Tehreek. I know someone there who can help us.” There was no formal agreement beforehand. If you say no, you risk a rift with the community, even alienating them. You know the organisation supporting you won’t be happy about their funded research being used to engage a far-right political party. You sit with the fact: How do you navigate ownership, credit and accountability in a way that is truly participatory? ● co-authorship may complicate timelines and editorial process, while you are on a deadline. ● not sharing ownership feels extractive, yet there is a format, and only one slot for the presenter. the funding organisation wants consistency and has strict policies on political engagement. ● ● the community wants to do a policy intervention on their terms but it’s inconsistent with your politics. And you realise that authorship is not just about names or credit — it is about power, access, agency and who gets to speak. Which doors open and for whom. Yet this could be a critical moment when everything changes for this community.

Scenario Group 4: They are tired of being researched…The region is vast but you have done your homework. You have spent time building connections, gaining access, marked all the places you want to go, and the diverse people you want to include in the project. You want to access remote areas that may require long travel. Rainy season makes the roads worse. You want to engage seasonal workers. They are not always available. Translation into multiple languages will take time and money that you don’t have. Your budget is already stretched. The organisation that is funding your project has fixed the timeline because they have their own donor compliance to see to. In a meaningful conversation with your friend from the community, you explain your circumstances and ask for advice. She really empathises with your dilemma and reassures you that she has got your back. You breath a sigh of relief as she takes out her phone and scrolling through her contacts starts making a list. “You can reach these people. You will get the data you need. They represent… erm… almost everyone.” She looks at you apologetically and offers to even arrange all meetings for you for free. You sigh and realise that you have already made a compromise. All you can do is make the best of it now. So, you arrive and introduce yourself. You speak about participation, about active listening, informed consent and learning together. Participatory. Participatory. Participatory. You don’t realise it yet but you seem to be saying this word a lot when you speak. People listen but something feels different. A man asks, not unkindly, “We have answered these questions before. What happens after that?” A woman adds, “People come, they write things down, and then… nothing.” There is no hostility; it’s just indifference. Others give you responses which seem to say the right things but feel rehearsed and flat. Their input is useful, they are trying to help, but there is no diverging opinion. You begin to realise: In a context of research fatigue and mistrust, how do you engage in a non-extractive way? When you can’t include everyone, how do you decide who’s heard? How do you stay accountable to those who aren’t? Prepared for: Radical Cohort 2026. By: Mehlab Jameel ● who makes decisions about who is included and who is left out have consequences. ● this is not the first time they have been asked to share, other voices may be absent. ● participation has not always led to change and they don’t see the point of this anymore. ● trust has been worn down, not built up, and the relationship feels one-sided. You don’t have funding to offer direct support. You cannot promise outcomes. Your work still depends on their long term engagement. You start wondering what it means to ask people to participate again.