Bayanihan in Practice: Reflections on DRAPAC 2026 and Collective Capacity in South Asia

Under the warm glow of the afternoon sun streaming through the window at the University of the Philippines BGC Campus in Manila, I found myself immersed in a vibrant scene. Around me, participants were busy crafting Wayang figures from discarded plastic packaging. Laughter and the sounds of creativity filled the air, creating an inspiring atmosphere of collaboration and purpose. This scene unfolded on the third day of the assembly during “Behind the Screens,” a workshop led by the community group Clinic Activism (Clic.Act), demonstrating how traditional puppetry can cut through state-sponsored misinformation. 

Now that I’m in my second year attending the Digital Rights in Asia Pacific assembly, what really stands out to me is the amazing culture here. The best part is seeing how actively the youth get involved. The assembly gives young people the floor to showcase our work and share our ideas. It also creates opportunities for us to learn from more experienced advocates. Above all, it achieves this in a remarkably warm, friendly environment. The experience changed how I think about storytelling in advocacy. It showed me that collective art can be a powerful way to communicate difficult truths and document harm.

The assembly succeeded because of mutual respect: older generations shared their background knowledge, while youth brought fresh perspectives on digital rights. This blend created a strong sense of equality, driven by open conversations and the welcoming attitude of the senior attendees. Meaningful participation is not about teaching young people to become responsible advocates. It is about giving us the confidence and space to grow the advocacy work we are already doing. Leaving the assembly, I feel a renewed energy to go back to my local advocacy network, ready to put these lessons into practice. 

From NGO Crisis to Movement Power

On the second day of the DRAPAC assembly, I attended a session named “NGO Crisis to Movement Power.” The discussion focused on the limitations of relying heavily on grants and the need to build stronger, community-led movements. This kind of movement-building cannot be rushed; it relies heavily on time and trust. To illustrate this, one participant shared a story about an initiative that created a safe space for women in a remote village to share their daily lives and be heard by others. As the community evolved, the women began to link their personal challenges to local structures, ultimately influencing political decisions in their village. Building an impactful movement and sustaining it requires years of patience.

The discussion made me think beyond simply replacing lost funding, which is important for organisations to survive. We also need to build forms of power that do not disappear when the funding ends. Relying solely on financial support isn’t enough. We need to start sharing our capacity, infrastructure, and technical skills across different organizations, instead of always competing for the same limited grants.

Regional gatherings create valuable opportunities to connect with people facing similar challenges and learn from their experiences. These meetings allow local groups to share how they address challenges such as state surveillance, censorship, and maintaining community trust even after projects end. When we realize that our challenges are linked, solidarity becomes essential. It’s all about lifting each other up and making sure that no grassroots movement has to face these issues alone. 

Designing Feminist Digital Futures 

I was genuinely excited to co-facilitate the “Designing Feminist Digital Future” workshop at the assembly! Collaborating with Stop Online Harms, Body and Data, and the DIGI Paile Initiative was one of the best experiences I’ve had. It was inspiring to engage in meaningful discussions with such dedicated organizations. We didn’t expect the overwhelming response—the room was packed with participants from across the region. Looking around, I saw a diverse group representing different generations, genders, countries, and lived experiences, all united by a shared concern for these issues. This made me feel deeply proud and genuinely happy.

We began by exploring a contradiction in how we use digital media: we know that our attention and data have become products, yet these platforms are deeply woven into our everyday lives. Stepping away from platforms like Facebook can feel almost impossible. In countries such as Bangladesh, Myanmar, and Nepal, these platforms are important for grassroots organising, accessing local news, and staying connected with family and friends. One of our trainees described this as a ‘toxic relationship’: we depend on these platforms, not because we love the platforms themselves, but because of the communities and connections we have built there. 

After mapping these contradictions, we let participants design their own systems based on case studies, drawing on their imagination to reach real, workable solutions. These are the kinds of solutions that major technology platforms can overlook when inclusive design is not treated as a core priority. The workshop was both fun and a genuine learning experience. While the technical and political implementation of inclusive design is undoubtedly complex, its foundational principle is straightforward: it starts with listening to the people most affected by these tools. It means listening to communities that are often overlooked and building solutions around their local needs. By doing so, resources, language, accessibility, and cultural context are built into the fundamental architecture of a platform from day one, rather than being treated as localized patches applied after the fact. 

Decentralizing Power Over Digital Infrastructure

Decentralising the tech industry is not only a technical goal. It is also about making sure that decision-making power and digital infrastructure are not concentrated in the hands of a few. Technology needs to account for different political, cultural, and social realities rather than assuming that one approach will work everywhere. In parts of this region, raising these questions at all carries real risk, including the threat of surveillance, online harassment, and state retaliation. Assemblies like DRAPAC create spaces for people from across the region to share how safety, authority, and freedom of expression look in their own communities. These conversations are an important part of decentralising digital power. 

These discussions highlight a critical dimension of digital rights: who holds decision-making power over the technologies we use in South Asia. Many of the rules and systems that shape our online spaces—including content moderation and data protection—are developed by companies and institutions outside the region. As these frameworks become global standards, they often reflect the priorities of the environments where they were created. When these rules are applied without meaningful local input, they can prioritise some experiences while overlooking others.

South Asia’s immense diversity makes the limitations of universal design especially visible. This is one of the most linguistically and culturally diverse regions in the world, and that diversity doesn’t average out into one clean narrative you can build a single campaign around. A strategy that works in one language, community, or political context may fail in another. In some cases, the wrong approach could even create risks for local communities or activists. That is why local expertise matters. We cannot simply import and translate campaigns designed elsewhere.

Building Youth Capacity Through NetMission

The complexity of our region is one reason programmes like NetMission are valuable to young people in South Asia. Internet governance can sometimes feel abstract or overly theoretical, but these programs bring together young people to explore how global tech policies are affecting our local communities. They help us build a common understanding that transcends borders. When youth engage in these capacity-building efforts, they become better prepared to participate actively in regional discussions like DRAPAC. I’ve witnessed countless young individuals eager to collaborate, share ideas, and co-create solutions tailored to our unique context. My time in the NetMission Academy really highlighted the importance of these connections for me. Meeting face-to-face with people I’ve only known online has deepened the trust and understanding in our collaboration in ways that virtual interactions simply can’t achieve. Being part of these discussions is truly shaping the future of digital rights in our region.

Bayanihan: Carrying the Spirit Forward

This year’s DRAPAC theme was “ Bayanihan,” which represents the spirit of communal unity and cooperation, and was beautifully illustrated in the “Behind the Screens” workshop. The Wayang doll we created from discarded plastic packaging serves as a powerful reminder of grassroots activism: taking what little we have, coming together, and crafting our own tools to voice the truth. Our efforts in digital rights across South Asia are constructed in much the same way. As I return to Bangladesh, I am determined to put this spirit into action by helping fellow organizers, sharing digital safety resources, and bolstering our connections across borders. True digital sovereignty is a right that we must collectively demand and create for ourselves.

NetMission Reflection blog post (August 28, 2026)
Written by Iffat Nowshin Joye