The visitors arrived with a projector.

They had diagrams, statistics, objectives, outcomes and something called a Theory of Change.

By slide 23, Uncle Rwamiti noticed an old woman at the back beginning to inspect the ceiling.

Finally she raised her hand.

“My children,” she said, “all this is very good. But what exactly are you asking us to do?”

Silence.

Forty-seven slides had explained the programme.

Not one had entered her life.

Uncle Rwamiti has seen the same thing elsewhere.

Companies explain products.

Hospitals explain services.

Universities explain courses.

Governments explain policies.

NGOs explain programmes.

And the human being on the other side quietly asks:

“What does this have to do with me?”

Perhaps communication fails sometimes not because people are ignorant, resistant or difficult.

Perhaps we simply started at the wrong end.

We started with what we wanted to say, instead of the life into which we wanted our message to enter.

A good story does something interesting.

It doesn’t remove the facts.

It gives the facts somewhere to live.

The old woman did not need another slide.

She needed to recognise her own problem in what the visitors were saying.

Uncle Rwamiti smiled.

“Next time,” he said, “bring the projector if you must.

But bring the human story first.”

Making sense of change through ethical storytelling.