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Wounds & Openings

Ours is a journey into humanity's wounds around dependency, money, power, and colonial belief systems. We work with these wounds as openings — living realities we already inhabit.

One year together

Season 1 — Metabolising Interdependencies
Season 2 — Decolonising Money
Season 3 — Unlearning Power
Season 4 — Unsettling Colonial Belief Systems
Season 5 — Co-creating Solidarity

The program includes monthly community calls, one-on-one coaching sessions, co-created solidarity projects, and in-person gatherings where appropriate and beneficial.

Metabolising Interdependencies

Here, we become familiar again with interdependence as the older-than-us condition of life — we are nature naturing, people needing people. We practice inter-being not as an idea, but as a condition we live inside.

Decolonizing Money

We examine our relationship with money, and what else becomes possible when we think in other currencies — units of connection, curiosity, empathy, unity, flourishing. Money is one exchange rate among many; we practice remembering the others.

Unlearning Power

We practice noticing, gently and imperfectly, how the power-over paradigm moves through us — even inside our efforts to resist it. We practice noticing them as they pass through our own bodies and we experiment with other patterns of being: power-with and power-to.

Unsettling Coloniality's Belief Systems

We practice loosening our grip on how we learned to survive alone — founded upon control, dominance, certainty, and efficiency. Through kinship and solidarity economies, we unsettle these colonial belief systems and patterns of functioning, and notice what sediments get stirred.

1. Metabolising Interdependencies

Many of us have learned to believe that the individual is the primary unit of power—that to be dependent is to be weak, unfinished, not yet sovereign.
But  what if “individual” is only a story we learned to survive alone?

Something in us might already know otherwise. That we are much more than individual. We are water passing through water, bacteria in conversation with bacteria, air inhaling itself. We are constantly inter-being, even when we forget. Even when we insist on separateness. Even when we try to stand alone.

Questions we sit with

  • What are we afraid to need?

  • What does dependence ask us to feel?

  • What do we consume so we don't have to relate?

  • Whose edge are we, while we guard our centre?

"We can think as individuals, feel as individuals, but we cannot be individuals. We are knots in nets of relations."

- Karen Barad    

2. Decolonising Money

"What money has done is create permission for one set of relationships to be erased and replaced by abstract monetary transactions." — Nora Bateson

When we pay for something, we often distance ourselves from the relational and ethical dimensions behind it. Buying a banana is license to ignore how it was produced, who cultivated it, and under what conditions. Money is often not only the license to hoard but also a mechanism for distancing ourselves from responsibility, care, and connection.

What if currency didn't erase relationships but generated them instead? What if currencies could reflect connection, curiosity, empathy, unity and flourishing.

Questions we sit with

  • What relationships does money erase?

  • What do we believe about abundance and scarcity?

  • How do we entangle money, value, and hierarchy?

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3. Unlearning Power

We all suffer from systemic hierarchies, even as some of us might benefit from them — to dominate is also to suppress something in ourselves, some capacity for relating, in order to stand above. Colonialism, capitalism, and patriarchy organise society through power-over relations. These structures shape what is valued and what is not. They determine whose knowledge counts, whose lives are protected, and who is centred or pushed to the margins. What we perceive as "normal" or "worthy" is deeply shaped by this logic.

 

What if we could learn to participate in a different logic?

Patterns of co-flourishing — life not arranged above or below itself, but entangled in mutual support.

Questions we sit with

  • Where do I benefit from power-over, even as I try to unlearn it?
    What do I suppress as I benefit from the power-over?
    Whose knowledge have I learned to trust, and whose have I learned to doubt?
    What would it feel like, in my own relations, for power to be shared rather than held?

4. Unsettling coloniality's belief systems

What if unsettling our belief systems is not about replacing one set of beliefs with another, but about loosening our grip on the ways we have learned to survive alone— founded upon control, dominance, individualism, certainty, efficiency?

Kinship practices—listening across difference, repairing relationships, staying with conflict rather than rushing past it—might be ways we gently unlearn what has been sedimented in us.

 

And when we try to build solidarity economies together, something in the logic begins to shift. Less about merit, less about isolated selves, less about certainty. More about relation. More about what becomes possible when we are not held apart but instead allowed to loosen, to shift, like sediment stirred back into movement.

“Healing happens in relationship — when pain is shared, it can begin to move.” — Sobonfu Somé

Questions we sit with

  • Where does my privilege still serve only me?

  • Where do I rush past conflict instead of staying with it?

  • What might I co-create if I stopped needing to earn my place first?

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The weight we carry

By Peter Kidi  — poet, writer, and refugee activist and edge-dweller at the School of Kinship

They said,

‎"Line up.

‎Bring your body.

‎Bring your breath.

‎Bring your proof of life."

‎But they never asked

‎how many of us

‎are already dead

‎inside.

‎We stood beneath a sun that mocks thirst.

‎A wind too dry to carry prayer.

‎Waiting

‎as if survival needs confirmation

‎from the same hands that forgot us.

‎Deng stood in front of me.

‎Slender shadow of a boy who once dreamt

‎He laughed 

‎the kind of laugh you only hear

‎from people hiding something

‎unbearable.

“Maybe I don’t exist,” he whispered.

‎“Maybe I should hang my body by the gate

‎with a note that says:

‎Is this enough proof for you?”

‎‎

‎We chuckled.

‎Because in Kakuma,

‎laughter is the language of the condemned.

‎‎

Three days later,

‎they found him swinging

‎from the tree behind the latrines.

‎The flies knew first.

‎The birds sang nothing.

‎No one screamed.

‎We’ve all run out of noise.

Just another name

‎crossed off a food list.

‎Another fingerprint

‎that will no longer warm the scanner.

‎No funeral.

‎No press release.

‎No UN statement.

‎Only silence,

‎and a mother too tired to cry.

‎So I write this

‎with hands that tremble,

‎with a voice full of ghosts,

‎for those who left

‎without saying goodbye.

‎I write this for

‎those still breathing,

‎but barely.

‎I write this because

‎you should know:

‎when they ask for proof of life,

‎what they’re really asking is:

‎"Have you broken yet?”

Applications now open — First Cohort begins March 2027  

Mentored by Rolande Ansima, who brings permaculture education  to Nakivale Settlement, Uganda; Peter Kidi, whose poetry documents life and resistance in Kakuma Camp, Kenya; and Malika Virah-Sawmy and Nontokozo Sabic, who support healing across the Global North–South divide.

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