Dreaming Forward
Coming Soon…
This episode forms the third in a three-part series covering the Decolonizing Southeast Asian Studies Conference at Chiang Mai University. The conference gathered scholars, activists, and cultural workers from across the region to examine how colonial legacies continue to shape knowledge, art, and identity in Southeast Asia. These were not distant or academic conversations—they were visceral, personal, and often uncomfortable dialogues that laid bare the emotional, political, and ethical urgency of reclaiming narrative power and imagining freer, self-defined regional futures. In this episode, listeners hear from two voices—Shakil Ahmed and Tümüzo Katiry—each approaching decolonization from their own perspective, yet united by a shared vision for reimagining how Southeast Asia tells its stories.
Shakil Ahmed speaks with thoughtful precision about his field—Future Studies—and how it can support decolonization. “Future Studies is, of course, by the name itself, a study of the future... but the future has not happened yet,” he says. “So how do you study something that hasn't happened yet? What you do is you study how people think about the future currently… and the field generally has moved away from predictions… to speculate alternatives [that] might happen.” For him, futures work is less about prediction and more about cultivating imagination. He stresses that “there are multiple different futures, alternative future, multiple possibilities, as opposed to one exact possibility.” This plurality underlines his argument that the future should never be treated as fixed.
He outlines several key frameworks: “default future, alternative features, probable futures, or possible futures… and this is this notion of the preferred future.” The heart of the work, Shakil says, is about empowerment—“A lot of the work around future studies is to help people have more influence and agency towards the future.” By expanding people’s sense of agency, he encourages them to move from passive acceptance of the default to active shaping of preferred futures. To do this, he introduces the Causal Layered Analysis (CLA) “iceberg” model: “The tip of the iceberg is something that is visible… But dig deeper and think about what are the worldviews… and then there's the bottom-most there, which is about myths and metaphors and narratives.” For Shakil, these deep cultural layers determine what becomes possible above the surface. “These dominant myths and metaphors have shaped our society,” he says, urging the need to rewrite these inherited stories.
Rather than isolating futures thinking within theory, Shakil connects it to practice and lived experience. He notes that many social and educational systems still reflect hierarchical, colonial modes of knowledge that privilege certain voices. Yet his approach is not oppositional; he speaks of balance—learning to work within institutional frameworks while ensuring local knowledge systems remain visible and valued. Decolonization, in his words, is a continuous negotiation, one that invites multiple worldviews into conversation without collapsing them into a single narrative.
Shakil’s optimism grounds his philosophy. Futures studies, he insists, is about nurturing imagination, participation, and responsibility. By questioning myths and opening multiple futures, he calls for creative, collective engagement with possibility. His voice bridges critical inquiry and hope— a reminder that decolonization is not just dismantling the old, but imagining the next.
Tümüzo Katiry’s voice, by contrast, arises from lived experience along the India–Myanmar borderlands, where he and other Naga communities navigate histories of division and resilience. “The definition of 'Naga' is still very much debated, and even within the Nagas, we still struggle to define which group of people should be included considered to be Naga,” he explains. This struggle over identity, he notes, is deeply tied to colonial borders that split families and homelands. “So many Nagas would have similar story, stories like me, because the border is being imposed without consultation with the communities along the border.”
Before delving into broader ecological and political challenges, Tümüzo grounds his reflections in a basic but vital concern—food autonomy: “First thing is the question of food sovereignty, because Nagas tend to be very self sustaining. [For example,] we do not need rice… to be imported from other states.” He describes how food and land remain central to community independence, and how self-sufficiency is not just cultural pride— it is necessity, rooted in geography and survival. He mentions that Naga cuisine includes a wide range of ingredients such as pork, beef, fermented soybeans, and crabs, and he notes that insects are also commonly eaten, forming a regular and appreciated part of local dishes. “There's a joke among our community,” he adds. “We say that we eat anything that moves, or has four legs.”
Tümüzo then broadens his discussion of food and environment into a wider reflection on the land itself. “One thing that people do not mention about borders,” he observes, “is that it also affects wildlife, because there is a biodiversity hotspot zone, so it also affects wildlife.” The comment links ecology and politics: borders fracture not just communities but the natural systems that sustain them. From this, he turns to the growing impact of climate change, describing how erratic rainfall, landslides, and urban vulnerability are reshaping life in the highlands. “I'm very much concerned, to be honest,” he says. “Because one thing is that our urban infrastructure is not equipped to handle any devastating natural disasters.”
Tümüzo ends with generosity and invitation, shifting his tone from analytical reflection to personal warmth. Drawing on his experiences traveling across Naga villages and interacting with people curious about the region, he welcomes the audience to see for themselves one day. “I highly recommend people who are coming in Nagaland to visit the remote areas as well,” he says—an appeal for understanding that goes beyond tourism.