<![CDATA[EVALINDIGENOUS - Blog]]>Sun, 12 Apr 2026 22:45:40 -0700Weebly<![CDATA[EVALINDIGENOUS AFRICA: COMMUNITY KNOWLEDGE, PARTICIPATION, AND PRACTICE]]>Wed, 08 Apr 2026 21:59:02 GMThttps://www.evalindigenous.net/blog/evalindigenous-africa-community-knowledge-participation-and-practice

Seeding Projects, 2025

Across Africa, Indigenous evaluation is not emerging as something new—it is being recognised, named, and strengthened through work that begins with communities themselves. Four 2025 AGDEN-led EvalIndigenous Seeding grant projects from Nigeria, Lesotho, and Liberia offer a powerful, collective insight: evaluation already exists within Indigenous systems of knowledge, practice, and relationship.
What connects these projects most strongly is their shared commitment to participatory, community-led methodologies. Through focus group discussions, storytelling, observation, and dialogue, each project centres local voices—engaging elders, women, youth, and community leaders not as subjects, but as knowledge holders. ​
In Liberia, for example, Misann Miapeh’s H-Live Project worked with communities across three counties using focus groups to identify Indigenous indicators of economic growth, social wellbeing, and environmental change. This approach reflects a broader shift: evaluation as something generated from within, rather than imposed from outside.
Across the projects, evaluation is revealed as embedded in everyday life. In Nigeria, Angela Inyang and Rinji Kwarkas’ project on the Ikom Monoliths shows how knowledge of governance, memory, and accountability is held in cultural artefacts—stone carvings that encode community values across generations. Similarly, Dr Dagwom Dang’s research with the Berom people demonstrates how Indigenous business systems operate through reciprocity, trust, and collective responsibility. Here, economic activity is not separate from evaluation; it is where fairness, contribution, and wellbeing are continuously assessed.
In Lesotho, Nurain Ahmed’s project showed how Indigenous cultural practices—including initiation rites, storytelling, and communal life—function as systems of reflection and social regulation. These are spaces where communities teach, reinforce, and evaluate behaviour, ensuring continuity and cohesion across generations.

Germinating Projects, 202

The Germinating projects offer a rich and critical engagement with Indigenous knowledge systems as living, contested, and adaptive foundations for evaluation. Across the Germinating projects, Indigenous practices—whether expressed through taboos, proverbs, governance systems, or cultural understandings of identity—are treated as dynamic frameworks that shape social order, ethical conduct, and decision-making within communities.
Findings highlight both the strength and complexity of these systems. For example, Solomon Waiyego’s project on taboos with the Agikuyu community in Kenya demonstrates how cultural norms continue to regulate environmental stewardship, leadership legitimacy, and social responsibility, while also revealing tensions where some practices reinforce gender inequities and exclusion. Similarly, Dr Almas Mazigo, Miss Miriam Mkombozi and Mr Patrick Mpedzisi’s study of Shona and Swahili Proverbs, and Francis Dago, Roger Apahou and Christelle Tetialy’s project on endogenous governance systems in Kagbès in Côte d’Ivoire demonstrate how knowledge is transmitted intergenerationally, embedding values of reciprocity, accountability, and collective wellbeing into everyday life. At the same time, the projects identify a generational shift, with younger community members engaging these systems selectively, prompting processes of reinterpretation and renewal.
Mr Rutagewelera Mutakyahwa, Dr Almas Fortunatus Mazigo, Ms Forunata Mulekuzi’s Germinating project explored Bahaya wedding ceremonies in northwestern Tanzania as living sites of Indigenous evaluation practice, illustrating how cultural ceremonies themselves operate as evaluative spaces. In a similar vein, Arnoux Nopi’s project in Cameroun examines biological and cultural femininity within the Ngiembo’on community in Cameroon as a foundation for strengthening Indigenous evaluation practices. These projects highlight how evaluation operates not only at the level of actions and decisions, but also through the ongoing negotiation of identity, roles, and belonging. 
Taken together, findings from the Germinating and Seeding projects confirm that Indigenous evaluation requires deep engagement with Indigenous knowledge as a source of evaluative criteria, ethical guidance, and governance. They offer more than case studies—they point toward a future where evaluation is accountable to communities, informed by their knowledge, and aligned with their aspirations, reflecting the strength of AGDEN’s mentoring and the commitment and the excellence of the researchers who have brought this work to life.

EvalIndigenous thanks you all

An excerpt from our 2026 January - March quarterly newsletter.
]]><![CDATA[Being a Good Listener]]>Wed, 04 Mar 2026 20:48:07 GMThttps://www.evalindigenous.net/blog/being-a-good-listener​About twenty years ago I wrote some guidance for community people who were conducting life narrative interviews. Looking back, I realise that much of it still holds true, but I would say some things slightly differently today. Below I revisit and revise my advice. Please share your advice about being a good listener in the comments. Kindest, Fiona Cram, Co-Chair, EvalIndigenous

Titiro ki ō taringa; whakarongo ki ō whatu — Look with your ears; listen with your eyes

This whakataukī (Maori proverb) reminds us that listening involves more than hearing words. It asks us to pay attention to what is being said, how it is being said, and to the silences, emotions, and relationships that surround the story.
One of the most important skills an evaluator can have is the ability to listen.
This might sound simple. But listening—real listening—is not always easy. It requires patience, humility, and a willingness to set aside our own assumptions about what matters, what success looks like, and what questions should be asked. As Alice Kawakami and colleagues (2007, p. 332) write, "insights...can be found through humble and quiet observation and listening."
For many Indigenous evaluators and communities, listening is not just a professional skill. It is a relational practice.
Across Indigenous contexts, evaluation is grounded in relationships—relationships with people, with communities, with ancestors, with the Land, and with future generations. Evaluation therefore begins not with methods or indicators, but with listening to the people whose lives and knowledge shape the work. After protocols have been observed, and a project has been explained and people invited to participate, I often just ask people where they would like to start their story.
Too often, evaluation processes start somewhere else. A programme is funded, indicators are defined, reporting templates are created, and only then do evaluators engage with communities. By that stage, many of the most important decisions have already been made.
Indigenous evaluation challenges this order of things.
​Instead of beginning with tools and frameworks, Indigenous evaluation begins with relationships and listening. It asks evaluators to slow down and to take time to understand community priorities, histories, and aspirations. Listening becomes the foundation for everything that follows.
Listening also helps to build trust. Many Indigenous communities carry long memories of research and evaluation being done to them rather than with them. Reports were written, data was extracted, and findings rarely returned to the community in meaningful ways. In some cases, evaluation processes reinforced outsiders' deficit narratives rather than recognising community strengths and resilience.
​Listening helps shift this dynamic.
When evaluators listen carefully—to community leaders, to elders, to youth, to frontline workers, and to those whose voices are often least heard—we begin to see programmes and outcomes through different lenses. We hear stories that statistics alone cannot capture. We learn about relationships, cultural responsibilities, and community priorities that may never appear in a standard evaluation framework.
Listening also reminds us that communities are not passive participants in evaluation. They are knowledge holders and decision-makers.
Indigenous evaluation approaches increasingly recognise this by supporting communities to shape evaluation questions, define indicators of success, interpret findings, and decide how knowledge will be used. In these contexts, evaluators are not simply technical experts—they are partners in a process of collective learning.
Being a good listener also means recognising that not everything can be rushed.
​Relationships take time to build. Trust develops through repeated engagement and through showing up in ways that demonstrate respect and accountability. Listening requires evaluators to be present, to be attentive, and sometimes to sit with uncertainty rather than immediately seeking answers.
Let silence do its work. 
Silence can feel uncomfortable, and a pause of only a few seconds can seem much longer when you're worried about keeping a conversation going. But silence often means someone is thinking, remembering or deciding how to tell their story. Interrupting can disrupt this process of reflection. Often the best response is to simply wait rather than fill the silence.
​Sometimes people appear to go “off topic'. It can be hard to know whether to intervene.
Occasionally what seems like a tangent will eventually circle back to something deeply relevant. At other times, the conversation may drift further and further away from the topic.
Part of interviewing is learning to sense the difference, and when you may need to offer a gentle prompt or reflection about what's been shared to reconnect the conversation back to the topic.
Listening to difficult stories
Sometimes people will tell stories that are upsetting or hard to hear. Even if your inquiry is not about a potentially 'sensitive' topic, sometimes the time is right for someone to share about a heavy experience or memory.
I received advice from an elder that has stayed with me. They said that when people share difficult experiences, they need the opportunity to retell their story, not relive it.
That distinction matters. When someone is retelling a hard experience, my role is not to step into the story with them or to try to connect through my own emotions. Often the most honest response I can offer is simply to acknowledge the weight of what they have shared, perhaps saying, "I can't imagine what that was like for you."
​Stories like these can also stay with us. For that reason, it's important that we have opportunities to talk and debrief when needed, with an Elder and/or with a trusted colleague. Listening well requires openness and care for others—but it also requires care for ourselves.
For those of us working in Indigenous evaluation, listening is therefore both a responsibility and a discipline. It asks us to remain open to learning from communities. It challenges us to reflect on our own assumptions and to recognise the limits of our own knowledge. And it reminds us that evaluation is not only about measuring outcomes—it is about strengthening relationships and supporting community wellbeing. As the Indigenous peoples of Australia remind us about their cultural practice of storytelling (Productivity Commission, 2020, p. 27),
Picture
Mapuche women conversing
"Yarning positions the evaluator as a listener and learner in the data collection process and respects Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people as the authority of their knowledges. It involves reciprocal relationships and is a two‑way process of learning and knowledge exchange."
At EvalIndigenous, we see listening as central to the Indigenisation of evaluation.
As Indigenous evaluators and allies continue to develop culturally grounded evaluation practices, listening will remain one of the most powerful tools we have. It is through listening that we learn what matters to communities, how change is happening, and how evaluation can better support Indigenous aspirations.
​If you have the privilege to learn from Indigenous knowledge keepers about traditional listening practices, what you really hear may help you sharpen your own listening skills.
In the end, good evaluation begins the same way good relationships do.
By listening first.
Bibliography
​Kawakami, A. J., Aton, K., Cram, F., Lai, M. K., & Porima, L. (2007). Improving the practice of evaluation through Indigenous values and methods: Decolonizing evaluation practice—Returning the gaze from Hawai‘i and Aotearoa. Hülili: Multidisciplinary Research on Hawaiian Well-Being, 4(1), 319-248. Find it here.
​
Productivity Commission. (2020). A guide to evaluation under the Indigenous Evaluation Strategy. Australian Government Productivity Commission. Find it here
]]><![CDATA[Global Evaluation Agenda 2.0 and Indigenous Evaluation: Building Relationships for a Future-Fit Field]]>Thu, 19 Feb 2026 15:08:27 GMThttps://www.evalindigenous.net/blog/global-evaluation-agenda-20-and-indigenous-evaluation-building-relationships-for-a-future-fit-field
In November 2025, I had the privilege of speaking at the 5th Asia Pacific Evaluation Association (APEA) Conference in Tokyo as part of the interactive panel session: "Advancing the Global Evaluation Agenda (GEA) 2.0: Pathways and Road-Maps for Action and Synergies"
The session brought together leaders from EvalPartners, IOCE, APEA, UN agencies, youth networks, and evaluation associations across Asia and beyond. We were invited to respond to key questions: What are the focus areas of GEA 2.0? Why do they matter now? Who are the actors? What pathways and synergies are needed? and What challenges lie ahead? As Co-Chair of EvalIndigenous, my contribution focused on what GEA 2.0 means for Indigenous evaluation — and what Indigenous evaluation offers to GEA 2.0. This post talks about the GEA 2.0.

What is the GEA 2.0

The Global Evaluation Agenda 2.0 (GEA 2.0), launched in 2025, is a shared global framework designed to make evaluation “future-fit” in a time of polycrisis — climate change, widening inequality, conflict, democratic fragility, and accelerating technological change. It builds on GEA 1.0 but moves further: from strengthening evaluation systems to transforming evaluation so it can contribute meaningfully to: 
People   -   Planet   -   Prosperity   -   Peace
GEA 2.0 is structured around four mutually reinforcing dimensions:
  1. Enabling Environment for Evaluation
  2. Institutional and Organisational Capacities
  3. Individual Capabilities
  4. Key Catalytic Actions and Synergies
Importantly, GEA 2.0 explicitly calls for evaluation to be grounded in equity, gender equality, social and environmental justice, cultural sensitivity, and human rights. It also recognizes Indigenous knowledge systems and the importance of protecting them, consistent with UNDRIP (the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples) and the EvalIndigenous Wolastoq Declaration. ​GEA 2.0 is not a technical refresh. It is, as the Preface notes, “a profound call to transformation”

Why GEA 2.0 Matters for Indigenous Evaluation

In Tokyo, I suggested that for Indigenous peoples, the “transformation” called for in GEA 2.0 is not new. It has always been our starting point. Indigenous evaluation traditions are grounded in Relationships, Reciprocity, Collective Wellbeing and Intergenerational Responsibility. GEA 2.0’s four dimensions align strongly with Indigenous priorities.

1. Enabling Environment

GEA 2.0 calls for enabling environments that institutionalise evaluation, promote equity and justice, and protect Indigenous knowledge systems. From an Indigenous perspective, an enabling environment must:
  1. Honour Indigenous Rights
  2. Protect Knowledge Sovereignty
  3. Mobilise Traditional Paradigms
​​​An evaluation environment that ignores Indigenous governance is not enabling.

​2. Institutional and Organizational Capacities

GEA 2.0 emphasizes strong institutions, partnerships, and ethical practice. For Indigenous evaluation, this means:
  1. Embedding Indigenous governance in evaluation systems
  2. Supporting Indigenous-led methodologies
  3. Building institutions that are accountable to communities

3. Individual Capabilities

GEA 2.0 calls for evaluators who are culturally responsive, ethically grounded, and systems-aware. Indigenous evaluation extends this further. Individual capability includes:
  1. Cultural humility
  2. The ability to walk between knowledge systems
  3. Commitment to intergenerational learning
  4. Accountability to place, ancestors, and future generations

4. Catalytic Actions and Synergies

GEA 2.0 explicitly includes support for Indigenous-led evaluation networks and culturally responsive evidence. This is significant. Indigenous evaluation is not a niche theme—it is identified as catalytic for the entire ecosystem.

Conclusion

Taken together, these four dimensions show that Indigenous evaluation is not peripheral to GEA 2.0, but deeply aligned with its transformative intent. For Indigenous peoples, evaluation has always been about sustaining relationships — with People and our non-human relations, with Mother Earth, and across generations — so that collective Prosperity is shared and Peace is grounded in justice and decolonisation. Seeking to indigenise the evaluation system does not mean replacing one framework with another; it means embedding reciprocity, relational accountability, knowledge sovereignty, and intergenerational responsibility at the heart of evaluation practice. When these values shape enabling environments, institutions, individual capabilities, and catalytic action, evaluation becomes a force for restoring balance and guiding systems transformation. What works for Indigenous peoples—relational, rights-based, and regenerative evaluation—ultimately strengthens evaluation for all peoples and for the planet we share.

Fiona Cram, Co-Chair, EvalIndigenous

I am an Indigenous evaluation scholar based in Aotearoa New Zealand. My work seeks to advance Indigenous-led methodologies and advocates for Indigenous rights, knowledge sovereignty, and relational accountability within global evaluation systems.
]]><![CDATA[Food is Life: Why Evaluators Should Care About Indigenous Food Sovereignty]]>Sat, 25 Oct 2025 06:24:00 GMThttps://www.evalindigenous.net/blog/food-is-life-why-evaluators-should-care-about-indigenous-food-sovereignty
Indigenous food sovereignty is much more than a question of food security. It is a movement for self-determination, cultural renewal, and ecological balance. At its heart lies a simple truth: food is sacred. It connects people to land, ancestors, and future generations. To understand Indigenous food sovereignty is to understand how Indigenous peoples define, sustain, and protect our own food systems according to our cultural values, ecological knowledge, and spiritual relationships with the natural world.
As described by the Indigenous Food Systems Network, food sovereignty rests on four interconnected principles:
  • Sacred Responsibility – Food is a gift, not a commodity. Communities hold a duty to sustain relationships with the land, waters, and beings that provide nourishment.
  • Participatory Practice – Hunting, fishing, gathering, and cultivation are living forms of knowledge that keep ecosystems and cultures vibrant.
  • Self-Determination – Indigenous peoples have the inherent right to decide what they eat and how it is produced, free from colonial or industrial systems.
  • Policy Transformation – True sovereignty requires embedding Indigenous values in laws and governance related to agriculture, fisheries, and health.
These principles reveal that food is far more than a means of survival; it is a foundation for cultural continuity, wellbeing, and environmental stewardship.
From Food Security to Food Sovereignty
​Mainstream notions of “food security” focus on access and supply. Indigenous food sovereignty goes deeper, centring autonomy, identity, and the restoration of relationships disrupted by colonisation. Revitalising māra kai (Māori food gardens) in Aotearoa, seed-saving initiatives among First Nations, and the rematriation of heritage crops all reconnect communities with ancestral knowledge and ecological care.
Why It Matters to Evaluators
​For evaluators, Indigenous food sovereignty offers a living model of systems change. It challenges us to measure success not by yield or income, but by reciprocity, collective wellbeing, and ecological renewal. Evaluating Indigenous food systems means valuing relational accountability—how communities sustain balance, respect, and interconnection. The International Federation of Social Workers highlights this in its call to recognise food sovereignty as a pathway to climate justice and Indigenous self-determination. Evaluators have a key role in documenting how these practices strengthen resilience, restore knowledge, and uphold rights.
Walking Alongside, Not Ahead
​Indigenous food sovereignty invites evaluators to stand in solidarity with communities—not as inspectors, but as witnesses and learners. In doing so, we help ensure that evaluation contributes to life-affirming futures where food, culture, and land are inseparable, and where equity, dignity, and self-determination are the ultimate measures of success.
Picture
Also see the Indigenous Food Sovereignty section in our July-September 2025 newsletter.
Other Reading
​Jernigan, V. B. B., Demientieff, L. X., & Maunakea, A. K. (2023). Food sovereignty as a path to health equity for Indigenous communities: Introduction to the focus issue. Health Promotion Practice, 24(6), 1066–1069. https://doi.org/10.1177/15248399231190355
  • The authors introduce a special issue on Indigenous food sovereignty and health equity, highlighting community-led initiatives across American Indian, Alaska Native, Native Hawaiian, and Pacific Islander populations. It presents a conceptual framework linking food sovereignty, Indigenous knowledge, and decolonizing health systems.
Kesselman, B., & Zukulu, S. (2025). Traditional foodways of the Amadiba: A struggle for Indigenous food sovereignty in Mpondoland, South Africa. Grassroots – Journal of Political Ecology, 32.
  • Through fieldwork with the Amadiba community in Mpondoland, the authors document Indigenous foodways grounded in interconnection, sacredness, and collectivism. It shows how the community’s resistance to mining and imposed “development” exemplifies Indigenous food sovereignty in practice—protecting land, culture, and local autonomy in postcolonial South Africa.
Monterrubio-Solís, C., Barreau, A. & Ibarra, J. T. (2023). Narrating changes, recalling memory: accumulation by dispossession in food systems of Indigenous communities at the extremes of Latin America. Ecology and Society, 28(1):3. https://doi.org/10.5751/ES-13792-280103
  • The authors examine how Indigenous communities across Latin America use food sovereignty as a form of resistance to extractivism and colonial development models. Drawing on cases from Mexico and the Andes, the authors show how Indigenous agroecological practices, collective governance, and cultural knowledge underpin both food and health autonomy.
Rowe, S., Brady, C., Sarang, R., Wiipongwii, T., Leu, M., Jennings, L., Peterson, T., Boston, J., Roach, B., Phillips, J. & Conrad, Z. (2024). Improving Indigenous Food Sovereignty through sustainable food production: a narrative review. Frontiers in Sustainable Food Systems, 8:1341146. https://doi.org/10.3389/fsufs.2024.1341146
  • The authors examine Indigenous-led food-production initiatives across the United States as pathways to strengthen food sovereignty, health, and community wellbeing. The authors highlight how locally driven projects reconnect people to land, promote intergenerational knowledge exchange, and reduce dependency on colonial food systems.
Ray, L., Burnett, K., Cameron, A., Joseph, S., LeBlanc, J., Parker, B., Recollet, A., & Sergerie, C. (2019). Examining Indigenous food sovereignty as a conceptual framework for health in two urban communities in Northern Ontario, Canada. Global Health Promotion, 26(Suppl. 3), 54–63. https://doi.org/10.1177/1757975919831639
  • The authors explore how Indigenous Food Sovereignty (IFS) can serve as a framework for Indigenous health promotion, particularly in urban contexts. Working with two Indigenous-led health centres in Northern Ontario, the authors show how land, culture, and self-determination are integral to wellbeing.
]]><![CDATA[Voices From the Forest — The Ogiek people are caretakers and custodians of the forest]]>Thu, 11 Sep 2025 22:11:23 GMThttps://www.evalindigenous.net/blog/voices-from-the-forest-the-ogiek-way-of-lifeFor generations, the Ogiek people have lived as caretakers and custodians of Kenya’s forests, especially the Mau Forest.
We belong to the forest
We protect the forest
We are the forest
​There are no arrows on a map showing where the Ogiek came from — because we did not migrate here. We are the original roots of these lands.
The Ogiek community has lived in harmony with the forest since time immemorial, deeply relying on it for food, shelter, and traditional medicine. The forest provided honey, wild fruits, and meat from animals like the gazelle nourishment that sustained generations.
This photo speaks for itself, capturing the breathtaking beauty of the home of Indigenous Peoples. It reflects the deep connection between the community and their ancestral land, where forests, rivers, and mountains are not only sources of life but also symbols of identity and resilience. The landscape tells a story of harmony with nature, nurtured and protected through generations.
When illness struck, our people turned to the forest not to hospitals or clinics, but to the rich biodiversity around them. They searched for medicinal plants known to our elders, and within days, healing came through nature’s pharmacy. ​ Our elders passed down this knowledge, and even today we trust in the healing power of medicinal plants. Nearly every Indigenous forest is a living pharmacy, holding remedies for health, wellbeing, and long life.
Even today, the Ogiek and many other Indigenous communities still believe in the healing power of medicinal plants. These natural remedies not only cure ailments but are believed to promote long life and a deeper connection to the environment. When you walk through the forest with Indigenous people, they will show you many medicinal plants you may have never seen before. It’s a powerful experience of learning and connection.
Honey holds deep cultural and spiritual meaning. No ceremony is complete without it — it is unity, purity, and blessing. The honey and the beehive are therefore far more than sources of food they are symbols of heritage, survival, and harmony with nature. Honey is valued not only for its sweetness but also for its medicinal properties, used to heal wounds, soothe sore throats, and boost energy. The beehive itself represents community, cooperation, and the delicate balance of the ecosystem.

Beyond its nutritional and medicinal value, honey is a bridge between generations. Elders teach the youth how to craft hives, read the seasons, and protect the bees from harm. In this way, honey becomes a living thread connecting the past, present, and future of Indigenous life.
Picture
Honey
For us, the honey bag is also more than a vessel; it is one of the most significant cultural items of the Ogiek community, symbolizing both livelihood and tradition. For generations, the Ogiek people of the Mau forest have depended on honey not only as food but also as a source of medicine, trade, and cultural identity. The specially crafted bag, often made from natural materials such as animal hides and plant fibers, is designed to store and transport honey safely from the forest to the homestead. Its unique craftsmanship reflects the Ogiek’s deep knowledge of their environment, as well as their sustainable practices in harvesting honey without destroying the delicate ecosystem that sustains them.
Picture
Honey bag
Beyond its practical use, the honey bag carries deep cultural meaning, representing the Ogiek’s close connection to the forest and their resilience in preserving their traditions despite modern challenges. It is passed down through generations as a heritage item, reminding the community of their responsibility to protect bees, forests, and biodiversity. In a time when Indigenous knowledge is at risk of disappearing, the honey bag stands as a living testimony of Ogiek identity, resilience, and their rightful place as custodians of the Mau forest.
Ogiek women play a very important role in our forest-based community. They are deeply connected to nature and help support their families through traditional knowledge and daily work in the forest. One of their main roles is collecting firewood, which is needed for cooking and warmth. They also know how to find and collect medicinal plants from the forest. This knowledge helps the community stay healthy using natural medicine.

Ogiek women also take part in beekeeping. They carry beehives into the forest, where men hang them high in the trees. But not just any tree is used the dobea tree is one of the special indigenous trees chosen for this purpose. Through their work, Ogiek women protect our culture, take care of the environment, and pass on valuable knowledge to future generations
For the Indigenous Peoples, this land is more than just a place to live it is a heritage, a source of culture, and a reminder of the responsibility to safeguard it for future generations. Preserving its beauty means preserving traditions, knowledge, and livelihoods that continue to inspire and sustain the community.
Walking deep into the forest, the songs of birds fill the air, hives hum with life, and every stream tells a story. This is where we find peace, connection, and identity. Let us honour these sacred spaces and the knowledge that sustains them. Let us continue to protect our forests not just as a source of heritage, but as a living pharmacy for generations to come.

Alexander Kisioi Koech

​Environmental Activist and Freelance Journalist, EvalIndigenous member, Kenya
For over 8 years, Alexander has been documenting Ogiek life and forest conservation efforts to raise awareness and inspire change.
​He has very kindly permitted EvalIndigenous to draw upon his news posts to construct this blog post.
]]><![CDATA[Voices from the Land: Indigenous Evaluation and the Global Movement for Relational Accountability]]>Wed, 13 Aug 2025 23:15:05 GMThttps://www.evalindigenous.net/blog/voices-from-the-land-indigenous-evaluation-and-the-global-movement-for-relational-accountabilityAt the recent International Janjatiya Gaurav (Tribal Pride) Seminar, Dr Fiona Cram, Director of Katoa Ltd. in Aotearoa New Zealand and Co-Chair of EvalIndigenous, shared a vision for Indigenous evaluation grounded in sovereignty, culture, and relationships.

Speaking from a Kaupapa Māori inquiry paradigm—that is, research and evaluation by Māori, for Māori, and with Māori—Dr Cram described how Indigenous evaluation resists external definitions of success. Instead, it centres mātauranga Māori (Māori knowledge), tikanga (cultural protocols), and self-determination, ensuring cultural vitality, sustainability, and even the return of land.

She challenged dominant evaluation models that overlook or distort Indigenous perspectives, impose outside measures, and too often operate without accountability to communities.

Introducing EvalIndigenous, a global network of Indigenous evaluators and allies, Dr Cram outlined its “seeding, germinating, growing, blossoming” theory of change. Across regions, from Aotearoa and the Pacific to Africa, Asia, Turtle Island and Latin America, EvalIndigenous supports Indigenous-led evaluation that is culturally grounded and community-driven.

Central to this movement is the Wolastoq Declaration on Indigenous Evaluation, created in 2024 by Indigenous evaluation leaders and allies. The Declaration asserts the right of Indigenous Peoples to define, conduct, and benefit from evaluation, and calls for honouring Indigenous rights, protecting knowledge sovereignty, and mobilising traditional paradigms.

Dr Cram emphasised relational accountability as the connecting thread — being answerable to people, lands, ancestors, and future generations; upholding reciprocity and respect; and sustaining connections across contexts. She highlighted Asia–Pacific projects in Fiji, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Bhutan, Mongolia, and the Philippines, including the APEA Toolkit for Indigenous Evaluation.

Closing her talk, Dr Cram reminded participants that “evaluation is not just about measuring change — it is about creating it.” When Indigenous peoples define success, she said, “we define our own futures.”

​Her presentation with notes is available here.
]]><![CDATA[Reclaiming Our Own Measures Pt 1: Indigenous Health Evaluation on Our Terms]]>Sat, 26 Jul 2025 01:29:07 GMThttps://www.evalindigenous.net/blog/reclaiming-our-own-measures-pt-1-indigenous-health-evaluation-on-our-termsHealth evaluation has long been framed by Western scientific methods and priorities. However, for Indigenous Peoples, evaluation is not new. It has always been part of how we live, make decisions, and sustain wellbeing. What’s needed now is not simply more evaluation, but better evaluation: work that reflects our knowledge systems, honours our protocols, and is done with, by, and for Indigenous communities.
Indigenous evaluators are reclaiming the space of health evaluation and reasserting its rightful purpose: to support thriving Indigenous families, strengthen self-determination, and uphold collective wellbeing. This shift is grounded in protocols, bundles, and principles created by Indigenous communities, for Indigenous priorities.
Take, for example, the Three Ribbons consensus process in Ontario, Canada. Elders, Indigenous health leaders, and evaluators came together to develop a set of emergent principles for Indigenous health service evaluation, including concepts like minobimaatisiiwin (the good life), relational accountability, collective benefit, and the use of 'wise' (rather than 'best') practices that reflect lived experience and Indigenous logic.

In Manitoba, the “Gathering a Bundle” guide reframes evaluation not as a linear, external measurement tool but as a personal and communal process of reflection, ceremony, and storytelling. This work critiques how dominant evaluation methods “fail to measure what is meaningful” (p.5) and advocates for indigenising evaluation by privileging Indigenous languages, ethics, and ways of knowing.
The Indigenous Evaluation 101 Guidebook from Minnesota extends this further by offering practical strategies to funders and evaluators, from building good relations agreements and securing Tribal IRB approval, to adopting culturally grounded logic models and community-led methods such as talking circles. Crucially, it insists that Indigenous values shape the evaluation from start to finish, not just as a token add-on.
These approaches are not merely aspirational, they are already being used successfully in Indigenous health initiative evaluations. For example, the Aloha Framework, developed in Hawaiʻi, integrates Indigenous values of aloha, kuleana, and pono to centre cultural integrity and community wellbeing in health evaluation design. Likewise, Indigenous wellness indicator projects with First Nations communities emphasize cultural identity, intergenerational strength, and land-based wellness over narrow metrics like hospital readmission rates
What do these examples have in common? They are driven by Indigenous people. They reflect a commitment to sovereignty over data, stories, and outcomes. They challenge the field to move beyond cultural adaptation toward Indigenous self-determination in evaluation.
This commitment is also captured in the Wolastoq Declaration on Indigenous Evaluation, endorsed at the 2023 Global Gathering of Indigenous Evaluators. The declaration affirms Indigenous evaluation as a sovereign practice rooted in ancestral knowledge, collective accountability, and the sacred duty to future generations. It challenges funders, institutions, and states to recognise Indigenous Peoples as the rightful authorities over the evaluation of their own lives, lands, and futures.
For funders and commissioners, this means rethinking what counts as credible evidence, resourcing Indigenous evaluators, and ceding control to Indigenous governance processes. It also means understanding that good evaluation is not just a technical task: it is a relational, ethical, and political act.
If you’re funding an evaluation of an Indigenous health initiative, inquire about the outcomes but also ask “whose knowledge guides the evaluation and who does it serve?”
]]><![CDATA[Standing Firm to Move Forward: Reclaiming the Heart of Indigenous Evaluation]]>Wed, 04 Jun 2025 19:00:00 GMThttps://www.evalindigenous.net/blog/standing-firm-to-move-forward-reclaiming-the-heart-of-indigenous-evaluationBy Dr. Fiona Cram | CREA VIII Conference Keynote Reflection | April 2025
In April 2025, I had the honour of delivering a keynote at the CREA VIII Conference in Chicago, themed Relational Responsibilities in Culturally Responsive Evaluation and Assessment. I stood before an audience of global evaluators, researchers, and community advocates to speak not only about Indigenous evaluation—but from it. My keynote, “Standing Firm to Move Forward,” was a weaving together of our histories, our grief, our resilience, and our responsibilities.
​
At its heart, Indigenous evaluation is about relationships. It begins not with methods or indicators, but with identity and place—where we stand, who we stand with, and why we do this work. For Māori, this is our whakapapa (genealogy), our whenua (Land), and our kaupapa (agenda). Across Turtle Island, Latin America, Africa, the Pacific and beyond, Indigenous evaluators hold similar truths: that evaluation must emerge from our values, our languages, and our collective aspirations.
Picture

​Grounding in Place and History

I opened by inviting everyone to introduce themselves to a neighbour and share where they felt most at home on the land. This was an act of whanaungatanga—establishing relationships, grounding ourselves in our own stories of place and belonging. Evaluation, when rooted in Indigenous worldviews, is inseparable from our connections to land, history, and people. Place is not simply geography. It is kin. The land carries scars of colonisation and resistance, just as we do. In his work Towards Scarring, Cash Ahenakew reminds us that the land remembers, that scars are not just signs of pain but of survival. In this way, land teaches us how to stand firm, how to heal, and how to move forward with dignity and purpose.

Navigating the Currents of Global Grief

This brings us to our first key evaluation question: Why is this initiative needed? Not just from a funder's perspective, but from the perspectives of those most affected. Whose pain are we addressing? Whose healing are we honouring?
We are living in a time of deep, visible global grief. From Gaza to West Papua, from the Sahel to Standing Rock, Indigenous and oppressed communities are experiencing the compounding forces of colonisation, war, ecological collapse, and displacement. These are not isolated crises. They are braided together—roots sunk deep into the violence of empire. As evaluators, we cannot look away. Ibrahim Kamara’s short film “How philanthropists are destroying African farms” (The Guardian, 2024) reminds us: We are not drowning. We are being flooded. Flooded by histories that have been dammed and diverted. As Ahenakew puts it, sacred pain is our refusal to look away. Evaluation must also refuse detachment. It must bear witness, recognise grief, and seek justice—not just outcomes.

​Indigenous Evaluation as an Act of Care

The second key question—How is this initiative being implemented?—often sounds procedural. But in Indigenous evaluation, it is profoundly relational. Implementation does not begin with a contract. It begins with whakapapa, with history, with place, and with aroha—love for our people.
Evaluation, in our hands, is not extractive. It is not just observation. It is ceremony. It is care. When I reflect on Māori concepts like manaakitanga (hospitality), whanaungatanga (kinship), and tikanga (cultural protocols), I see a different pathway forward—one in which evaluation becomes an extension of our responsibilities to one another, not a technical imposition. One powerful example of this was Te Oho Ake, a youth wānanga at Ruataniwha Marae in Wairoa. Over five days, rangatahi became evaluators—not of a programme, but of their own transformation. They climbed their ancestral mountain, shared stories, built trust. Evaluation was not a separate task. It was lived. It was relational. It was whānau (family)-held. This is what evaluation can be when it is led by those it seeks to serve.

​Whose Outcomes? Whose Impact?

The third evaluation question—What are the outcomes and impacts?—requires us to go deeper. Whose wellbeing are we measuring? What version of a “good life” are we using? As the late Manuka Henare taught, true wellbeing is grounded in mana, whakapapa, and collective flourishing—not material wealth. Inspired by his work and Amartya Sen’s capabilities approach, we ask: Did this initiative uplift mana (prestige)? Did it strengthen our relationships with Land, spirit, and each other? This is what I call ontological justice—not just equity in services or access, but the right to define and pursue wellbeing on our own terms. In this way, evaluation becomes a tool of self-determination, not surveillance. It affirms who we are, not just what we do.
Picture

He Awa Whiria – Braided Rivers, Braided Worlds

To walk between Indigenous and Western paradigms, I turn to He Awa Whiria—the braided rivers model. Just like the alluvial rivers of Aotearoa New Zealand, knowledge systems can run side by side: distinct, but interconnected. Our HPV self-testing project with Māori women demonstrated how relational, community-led research can inform large-scale scientific innovation. Our braided river began with elders, researchers, whānau, and community experts. Together, we designed a study, analysed findings, and translated them into action—culminating in a nationwide health policy shift. The river metaphor reminds us that evaluation is a journey. It requires trust. It requires pausing. It requires humility. From whanaungatanga (relationships), to kaupapa (planning), to mahi (doing)—we evaluate as we live: together, on purpose.

The Wolastoq Declaration and the Future of Indigenous Evaluation

In 2024, EvalIndigenous helped convene a global gathering in Fredericton, on the Lands of the Wolastoqiyik people. What emerged was not just a declaration—it was a collective affirmation of our sacred responsibilities as Indigenous evaluators. The Wolastoq Declaration asserts three principles:
  1. Honour Indigenous Rights
  2. Protect Knowledge Sovereignty
  3. Mobilise Traditional Paradigms
We are not seeking inclusion into colonial systems. We are asserting our own frameworks—ones that honour the Land as relative, not resource; evaluation as guardianship, not audit.

Conclusion: Stand Firm, Paddle Forward

I closed my talk with a waiata (song):
Mā wai rā e taurima / Te marae i waho nei? / Mā te tika, mā te pono / Me te aroha e.
Who will tend to the marae here? / Truth, honesty, and love will.

​In these times of turbulence, evaluation can be an anchor—or it can be a rudder. When grounded in truth, in love, and in our obligations to place and people, it becomes both. To my fellow evaluators: stand firm in your place. Paddle together. And always, always let the land show you how to move forward.
]]><![CDATA[EvalIndigenous Stands with the Ogiek Community Amidst Eviction Fears]]>Tue, 27 May 2025 22:18:53 GMThttps://www.evalindigenous.net/blog/evalindigenous-stands-with-the-ogiek-community-amidst-eviction-fearsDr. Awuor Ponge, Alexander Kisioi KOECH, Aisha Adhiambo AWUOR and Stephen K. LELEI
Picture
Photo 1: The EvalIndigenous Representatives and the Ogiek Council of Elders addressing the Press in Mariashoni
​On 23 May 2025, the EvalIndigenous Global Network, hosted an advocacy workshop with the Ogiek Council of Elders, community elders and representatives in the wake of the new Government of Kenya intention to redraw the Mau Forest cutline. A court ruling on September 30, 2024, upheld the legality of the 2001 cutline. And now the government has started implementing the long-awaited process of redrawing and beaconing the boundaries to separate forests and settlements of the six schemes created following the 2001 decision.

The right to Indigenous territory

A major issue raised is the lack of consultation with the Ogiek community in ongoing government plans, particularly the fencing of the Mau Forest. The fear of the Ogiek community is that this is a political process supervised by political leaders from other communities, while they don’t have a voice. This has raised concerns that they are likely to be evicted once again, given that there is no one to talk on their behalf. It is in this context that the EvalIndigenous Global Network has come in to stand in solidarity with not only the Ogiek community, but as a voice for all the other Indigenous Communities in Kenya facing similar challenges. Read the Advocacy Letter addressed to The Principal Secretary, Ministry of Interior and National Administration, Government of Kenya.
Emilly Kirui, one of the Ogiek Elders, highlighted the broader context which reflects ongoing challenges faced by indigenous communities in Kenya, including slow implementation of court rulings affirming their land rights and continued evictions under the guise of conservation efforts. ​Despite legal victories, such as the African Court’s recognition of Ogiek rights over the Mau Forest, government inaction and bureaucratic hurdles have left many families in uncertainty. The Ogiek and other Indigenous groups continue to call for the enforcement of legal protections, full implementation of court decisions, and the establishment of co-management frameworks for resource sharing and land governance.
A key demand from the Ogiek is the urgent implementation of court rulings affirming their rights to ancestral lands, particularly following a 2022 African Court decision in their favour. 
Despite this legal victory, the community reports that enforcement remains stalled, leaving them vulnerable to forced evictions and continued encroachment. They are also advocating for the issuance of land titles to secure their homes and heritage, and for the integration of traditional governance systems into formal structures.

The right to free, prior and informed consent

The Ogiek community emphasises that decisions are being made without their free, prior, and informed consent, a principle recognised in both local and international law. According to Elder Alfred Saibala, the Ogiek stress that meaningful participation must involve leaders who are genuinely recognised by the community, rather than individuals who may be acting out of self-interest. This exclusion from consultation processes places the community at risk of further disadvantage and undermines their rights as Indigenous peoples.

​As seen in a TV47 video (also right) of the event, Ogiek Council of Elders representatives highlight the lack of representation at both national and grassroots levels, which has left them without a voice in decision-making processes that directly affect their livelihoods and heritage. The key message from the KASS TV coverage (also right) centres on the urgent need to address this marginalisation of Indigenous communities in Kenya.
One of the Ogiek Human Rights Defenders, Alexander Kisioi Koech, highlights findings from a recent 2024–2025 study by EvalIndigenous Global Network, which demonstrate the critical necessity for policy reforms that align with both Kenya’s constitutional commitments and its international obligations.
The current frameworks are seen as insufficient in protecting the rights and interests of indigenous peoples, underscoring the importance of immediate government action to address these gaps.
This KTN News Kenya clip (on right) highlights the deep concern of Kenya's Ogiek community regarding systemic neglect and exclusion from government initiatives, especially those directly impacting their lives and ancestral lands. The Ogiek point out that, under the current administration, they lack any representation in government positions, which has further suppressed their voice. They recall that the only time they had formal government representation was during the previous regime, when they had a nominated senator and a member in the Nakuru County Assembly.
This absence of representation has left them marginalised in critical national conversations and policy decisions.
EvalIndigenous and Ogiek Council of Elders representatives also urged the government to provide Indigenous communities with direct representation at the county and national levels, including the nomination of senators from these groups. Past experiences have shown that having nominated leaders enables Indigenous communities to effectively channel their issues to government authorities and advocate for their rights. The speakers implored the government to fill vacant nominated positions with qualified Indigenous representatives to ensure their concerns are addressed at the highest levels.  ​

The right to traditional governance

Dr. Awuor Ponge highlighted a central recommendation from the study; namely, the amendment of policy frameworks so they recognise and integrate traditional governance systems. Different speakers emphasised that Indigenous communities are increasingly sidelined in governance because they lack elected leaders who can represent their interests. They indicated that by formally acknowledging traditional decision-makers and incorporating them into the broader governance system, the government can ensure these communities have a meaningful voice in public affairs.

​Dr. Ponge also called for the allocation of dedicated development funds for Indigenous communities. Persistent challenges such as poor road infrastructure and limited access to essential services have hampered their development. Targeted funding is seen as vital for empowering these communities to pursue their own development priorities and improve their quality of life.​
Picture
Photo 2: Awuor Ponge

The right to be recognised

The Ogiek stress that their struggle is about more than land. According to one of the Ogiek Council of Elders member, Alfred Saibala, one of the community’s central grievances is the failure of the government to recognize the Ogiek and other indigenous groups as distinct ethnic communities in the national census. This lack of official recognition limits their access to employment opportunities and essential services. The Ogiek are calling for comprehensive policy reforms that would not only acknowledge their unique status but also ensure their full inclusion in national planning and development initiatives.
 
According to one of the Elders, Ann Tunai, the struggle is a fight for identity, dignity, and a future in which they are seen and heard. They are urging the government to establish a task force to oversee the implementation of Indigenous land rights, amend policy frameworks to include traditional elders in decision-making, and appoint national representatives to speak for marginalised groups in parliament. These steps, they argue, are essential to ensuring justice, recognition, and meaningful participation in Kenya’s development.
Picture
Photo 3: EvalIndigenous Team with the Ogiek Focal Persons at the Mariashoni Guest House
Picture
Photo 4: EvalIndigenous Team with Ogiek Focal persons

Conclusion

According to Stephen Lelei, the Executive Director of Mariashoni Community Development (MACODEV), the Ogiek community’s demands extend beyond land rights to encompass recognition, justice, and meaningful participation in national development. They urge the government to appoint representatives from Indigenous groups to parliament, integrate traditional leadership structures into formal decision-making, and ensure that all development projects affecting their lands are subject to their free, prior, and informed consent. These steps are seen as essential to safeguarding their cultural heritage, securing their livelihoods, and achieving equitable development for all marginalized communities in Kenya.
Picture
Photo 5: EvalIndigenous Team pose with some of the Advocacy Event Participants
Additional Information:
  • Find out more about this EvalIndigenous work with Indigenous communities in Kenya here
  • Read the EvalIndigenous team's report here
]]><![CDATA[Reframing Global Health through Indigenous Eyes: Three Cornerstone Resources from the UNPFII]]>Thu, 22 May 2025 23:20:33 GMThttps://www.evalindigenous.net/blog/reframing-global-health-through-indigenous-eyes-three-cornerstone-resources-from-the-unpfii
The Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues (UNPFII) has taken a bold and necessary step forward in transforming how global institutions understand, support, and evaluate Indigenous Peoples’ health and wellbeing. In a trilogy of interlinked studies released between 2023 and 2025, the Forum has outlined a visionary yet practical framework for placing Indigenous rights, knowledge systems, and self-determination at the centre of health policy and practice.
Together, the three studies form a dynamic, interconnected roadmap for advancing Indigenous health globally—not as a subset of minority or diversity policy, but as a self-determined, rights-based, and cosmologically distinct approach to collective wellbeing. For governments, NGOs, UN agencies, funders, and Indigenous leaders, this trilogy offers a new standard: one that prioritizes healing over harm, relational accountability over extractive metrics, and sovereignty over simplification.

1. A Foundational Framework: The 2023 Study on Indigenous Determinants of Health

The 2023 report, Indigenous Determinants of Health in the 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development (E/C.19/2023/5), lays the conceptual groundwork. It identifies Indigeneity itself as an overarching determinant of health, and names 33 interrelated protective and risk factors—ranging from intergenerational healing and ancestral medicine to environmental dispossession and forced assimilation.
These determinants are grouped under three central themes: intergenerational holistic healing, the health of Mother Earth, and decolonizing and re-Indigenizing culture. This report asserts that colonialism and its ongoing expressions—legal, institutional, environmental—remain the core drivers of Indigenous health inequities. It calls on UN Member States and agencies to adopt culturally grounded approaches that acknowledge Indigenous cosmologies and systems of care.

2. From Framework to Action: The 2024 Operationalization Study

The 2024 follow-up, Improving the Health and Wellness of Indigenous Peoples Globally: Operationalization of Indigenous Determinants of Health (E/C.19/2024/5), turns ideas into actionable structures. This report outlines how UN agencies, governments, and institutions can embed the 33 determinants into their systems through policy change, evaluation, staffing, and data sovereignty. Key elements include:
  • ​Free, prior, and informed consent as a prerequisite to any health-related intervention;
  • Recognition of Indigenous knowledge systems as valid, distinct, and non-comparable to Western evidence hierarchies;
  • The creation of Indigenous-led advisory bodies and institutional roles across all levels of governance;
  • Integration of planetary health and eco-centric models that respect Indigenous stewardship of biodiversity.​​​
This report also emphasizes that Indigenous Peoples are rights holders, not stakeholders, and that their representation must be central and enduring across the entire policy cycle.

3. Measuring Change: The 2025 Indigenous Determinants of Health Evaluation Instrument

To assess whether institutions are walking their talk, the 2025 study introduces a scorecard-based measurement tool: Evaluating Institutional Structures to Improve the Health and Wellness of Indigenous Peoples Globally (E/C.19/2025/5). This tool provides a 20-point scoring system structured across four sections:
  1. Intergenerational holistic healing
  2. Health of Mother Earth
  3. Decolonizing and re-Indigenizing culture
  4. Institutional compliance with Indigenous rights​
Each item is grounded in specific determinants, with criteria for assessing policy implementation, cultural safety, data practices, Indigenous representation, and the protection of land and identity2025 IDHEvaluation Inst…. The tool offers not only a way to track institutional progress but also a process for community-led adaptation, piloting, and refinement.​

Implications for Indigenous Evaluation

Together, these three resources challenge the foundations of mainstream evaluation practice. They call for a paradigm shift away from deficit-based, Western-centric metrics toward an Indigenous-led evaluation movement that centres Indigenous values, worldviews, and priorities. These reports:
  • Validate Indigenous evaluation as its own field—distinct from participatory or community-based approaches, grounded instead in sovereignty, whakapapa (genealogy), relationality, and Indigenous knowledge systems.
  • Provide international legitimacy for Indigenous evaluation frameworks such as Kaupapa Māori (by, with and for Māori), Indigenist CBPR (community-based participatory research), and Land- and language-based models.
  • Offer practical infrastructure for Indigenous evaluators, including policy templates, staffing principles, and culturally safe protocols.
  • Reinforce the need for data sovereignty and the use of Indigenous-defined indicators to measure what matters—whānau (families) flourishing, cultural revitalisation, and self-determination.
  • Invite a reimagining of evaluation as a tool of resurgence and planetary care—not just accountability or performance.
For Indigenous evaluators, researchers, funders, and communities, these resources are not just reports. They are scaffolds for re-Indigenizing the entire evaluation ecosystem—from the questions we ask, to who holds the power to answer them.
]]>