From the People, For the People: Mujawarah as a Renewing Human Practice

By Maree Bashir- Founder at Mujawarah for life and Development 

“The Arabic version is below.”

How can we reimagine educational spaces in a world where knowledge accelerates, but human connection frays?

How can we create spaces where individuals — regardless of background — feel seen, heard, and valued?

These questions planted the earliest seeds of “Mujawarah for Life and Development” — an organisation rooted in the deep soil of Palestinian pedagogical heritage, yet breathing with global human aspirations.

We weren’t seeking a new model as much as a return to meaning —

Meaning in learning, in gathering, in listening, in presence.

Mujawarah, as we’ve come to understand it, is not a tool or technique — it is an existential practice. A way of being, of learning, of living together.

The Roots in Palestine

In Palestine, education has never been just an institutional affair.

It has always been tied to dignity, to liberation, to meaning.

In the early 20th century, educator Khalil Sakakini initiated a quiet revolution in learning. He founded the “Dusturiyya School” in Jerusalem as a place that reflected the child — not the curriculum. He rejected coercion and rote instruction, believing that a child learns best when respected, when allowed to grow in their own way, when their inner voice is heard. Sakakini used to say: “A child is not an empty vessel to be filled, but a plant to be accompanied.”

His vision reminds us that education flourishes not through control, but through relationship.

Decades later, educator Munir Fasheh shook the remaining pillars of rigid knowledge structures that had severed learning from life. For him, knowledge did not reside in books or lecture halls, but in storytelling, in relationship, in the mother tongue.

He would often say, “Mujawarah is not about teaching another person, but about being present with life together.”

Fasheh reawakened a whole world of meaning — drawn from oral tradition, lived experience, and forgotten local wisdoms.

Naturally, Mujawarah emerged from this not as an event or programme, but as a philosophy — a pedagogical way of life.

These two roots — Sakakini and Fasheh — were more than inspiration. They were our compass.

From them, we drew our vision of Mujawarah as a liberatory path of learning, where people come together not to absorb answers, but to share questions.

Mujawarah as Restoration

When we first began experimenting with Mujawarah, we knew this was not an “alternative training” — it was an attempt to restore the soul of learning.

In 2018, while working with DVV International (German Adult Education Association), we launched a series of gatherings titled *“Mujawarat on the Edge of Hope.”*

The community context was saturated with fatigue — people were not looking for new content, but for a renewed sense of meaning.

We issued a simple invitation: “Being alive is not enough — one must also be on the edge of hope.”

Hundreds responded — young and old, women and men, from all walks of life — because for the first time in a long while, someone was listening.

We organised ten Mujawarat — each with its own name and soul.

There were no trainers or trainees — only human presence.

We sat in gardens, in orchards, on the ground. We sang, we shared stories, we learned how to be silent — and how to truly listen.

These gatherings marked a profound shift.

We witnessed how dialogue dissolves isolation, how listening opens new horizons.

It was not just a community activity — it became collective healing, a quiet return to our shared humanity.

Because of the deep impact, we later returned with five more gatherings called *“A Circle and a Thought in the Orchard”*. These became organic continuations — spaces where new language was born, authentic friendships formed, and hope began to grow again.

Our Establishment in the UK

As the experience matured, we realised Mujawarah belonged not to one geography, but to all those seeking meaning.

This insight led to the founding of **Mujawarah for Life and Development** as a UK-based organisation, dedicated to working with local communities, marginalised groups, and refugee populations who are navigating displacement, fragmentation, and invisibility.

We don’t offer ready-made programmes.

We cultivate safe, listening spaces — where people can speak, reflect, and reimagine themselves beyond imposed categories.

Mujawarah is not a temporary event, but a living pedagogy — where knowledge is measured not by certificates, but by the quality of human connections it enables.

Our Mujawarahs are cross-cultural and contextually rooted.

They honour the mother tongue, value local wisdom, and emerge from trust, slowness, and attentiveness.

They are spaces for contemplation, healing, and the reclaiming of meaning in a world drowning in speed and loss.

What We Aspire To

At Mujawarah for Life and Development, we aim to reshape the relationship between people and knowledge — away from performance and consumption, and towards participation and presence.

We don’t transmit knowledge top-down. We believe every person carries wisdom within — worthy of being heard, seen, and respected.

Our vision centres community knowledge — that which is born from daily life, storytelling, relationships, and the courage to question.

We create spaces of free, organic learning, especially for refugees and the displaced, where voices can emerge and meaning can be restored.

We are not a traditional development programme.

We are a shared journey — towards living learning, toward collective presence, toward new possibilities.

We strive to support grassroots initiatives, honest relationships, and moments of trust that awaken people’s sense of agency — not as consumers of knowledge, but as co-creators of meaning.

In a world that talks too much and listens too little, we seek to nurture a culture of listening.

And in a world fragmented by speed, we hope to stitch new threads of belonging — to reimagine development as a slow, human, and relational process.