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Gender-sensitive conflict analysis: a facilitation guide

The guide is intended to support facilitators to undertake a participatory gender-sensitive conflict analysis. It seeks to:
- Explain how to design and facilitate a flexible and participatory three-day gender-sensitive workshop.
- Provide step-by-step guidance and participatory tools to analyse gender, peace, violence and conflict for any given context.
- Position practitioners to apply this analysis to policy thinking and programme design and implementation, which can range from gender-sensitive to gender-transformative peacebuilding practice.
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Gender-sensitive conflict analysis: a facilitation guide

The guide is intended to support facilitators to undertake a participatory gender-sensitive conflict analysis. It seeks to:
- Explain how to design and facilitate a flexible and participatory three-day gender-sensitive workshop.
- Provide step-by-step guidance and participatory tools to analyse gender, peace, violence and conflict for any given context.
- Position practitioners to apply this analysis to policy thinking and programme design and implementation, which can range from gender-sensitive to gender-transformative peacebuilding practice.
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MPI 2025 Annual Peacebuilding Training Report
We are pleased to share with you the report of the 2025 Annual Peacebuilding Training, held from May 19 to 30, 2025, in Davao City, Philippines. This report highlights the key activities, learning experiences, and outcomes from the two-week training.
We warmly welcome your thoughts and suggestions on the report. Your feedback is invaluable as we continue to enhance and strengthen our training programs.
You may also pdf download the report here.(5.12 MB)
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NARPI 2026: The Journey of a Reluctant Storyteller and Peacebuilder
“Important: Please stay indoors from 2:30-3:00 pm”
This was the subject of the email I received from Northeast Asia Regional Peacebuilding Institute (NARPI), which I belatedly read while I was on my way to Taiwan for the 2026 Summer Peacebuilding Training in August. Tired from the early morning travel, I read “drill” and did not really pay much attention, thinking it was the usual thing we also get in the Philippines (in case of fire, earthquake, and heavy rain). It was only during the field trip that I realized that the email was for a civil defense drill. I have been aware of the geopolitical tension between Taiwan and China, but I did not realize how serious the situation was until this trip.
It was an interesting way to start my first NARPI training and my first visit to Taiwan. Little did I know that in the days that followed, I would not only discover the complex and multilayered histories and peacebuilding issues in different countries in Northeast Asia, but also rediscover parts of myself through the stories and experiences I encountered.

Why Storytelling and Story-listening?
I have been interested in storytelling ever since I learned how to read. I wrote my first fiction story in high school—one that, as far as I remember, no one ever read. Like many students who enjoyed expressing themselves through writing, I also participated in journalism and literary contests. Later, I gained experience in research and media work, where storytelling remained a critical element of how ideas, experiences, and findings were communicated.
So, when we were asked at NARPI why we chose to join the Storytelling and Story-listening course, many thoughts came to mind. It was the first day of the actual training, and I was still unsure of how to introduce myself. I knew I was carrying with me the name of the Mindanao Peacebuilding Institute, but at the same time, I was also there simply as myself—as Anna.
The timing of the training couldn’t be more perfect. I am at the stage of my life where I am searching for my unique voice as a storyteller.
In one of the plenary sessions, writer, attorney, and educator Michelle Kuo, author of Reading with Patrick (2017), shared how her personal awakening came through her life changing relationship with one of her students, Patrick. I was deeply inspired by how she used her position and privilege to create change by listening to the stories of people who are often left behind. Her story prompted me to reflect on my own position as a researcher and writer, and on the possibility of using my own voice and skills to make an impact, however small.
At the same time, I could not ignore the doubts and insecurities I carried with me, particularly about my ability to be an effective storyteller, whether through writing or speaking. I wondered whether I could truly tell stories in a way that would resonate with others, and whether my own voice could contribute meaningfully to the conversations and causes I care about.
The Courage to be Vulnerable
“When did you start having the courage to tell your story to a bigger audience?”
This was the question I asked Yo-ling Chen, a trans, nonbinary Taiwanese American independent scholar and activist based in Taipei, and one of the resource persons in NARPI this year. This was also the same question I’ve had for several years, and the NARPI training couldn’t have been more timely.
Courage is often defined as the ability to face uncertainty despite fear. To be a storyteller, one must be vulnerable enough to open up and share personal experiences, while also having the courage to allow oneself to be heard. When Yo-ling gave a presentation during the plenary session and later joined us on the third day of our class, I found myself reflecting on my own position as both a storyteller and a story-listener, as well as my own fear of being seen and heard.
Yo-ling reminded me that sharing a story does not require a large audience or a grand platform. A story can begin in a small space, with only a few people who are willing to listen and, more importantly, who can create a safe space for the storyteller to speak. Their example made me realize that perhaps courage in storytelling does not always mean speaking to many people. Sometimes, it simply means taking the first step—choosing to share, even when the space is small, the audience is few, and the fear of being seen and heard is still present.
Holding Space for Stories“How are we going to feel if our story is not heard?”
To answer this question, facilitators Moe Sasaki and Paul Lee invited the participants to respond through an action or facial expression. My initial response was a shrug. I thought I had reached a point in my life where I no longer cared much about what other people thought of me. However, later that evening, I began to realize what I had overlooked in the question. I had been thinking only about my own story—my fears, my voice, and my willingness to be seen and heard. But what about the important stories of others? What about the stories entrusted to me, or those that I am in a position to help share?
So, when we were asked “What is the story we want to hold space for?,”I realized that I have a whole quiver of stories waiting to be shared, yet none of them have ever seen the light of day. I have been paralyzed by fear.
Yet complexity and fear did not stop Ryan Chiu of Strait Talk from pursuing his peacebuilding work. When he visited our class as a resource speaker, he reminded me that my own limitations as a storyteller do not have to prevent me from telling stories that matter. As he spoke about the Taiwan Strait issue and the political divisions within Taiwan, he was candid about the complexities surrounding the issue and vulnerable enough to acknowledge his own limitations in telling the story from his particular perspective.
His openness made me realize that perhaps being an effective storyteller does not mean having all the answers or being able to capture the whole story. Sometimes, it means having the humility to recognize what we cannot tell, being honest about the perspective from which we speak, and still finding the courage to tell the stories that need to be heard.
Perhaps holding space for stories is itself an act of courage: choosing to listen, making room for another person’s truth, and allowing their story to be heard without making it our own.
Transforming Stories into Action
Nothing feels more fulfilling than seeing personal stories transformed into advocacies that have the potential to change lives. When facilitators Moe and Paul shared their respective peacebuilding journeys, I could not help but admire and respect the work they have devoted themselves to. Their stories—Moe’s work with restorative justice in Rwanda and Paul’s work with elderly Korean Americans who have been separated from their family members in North Korea—began with something deeply personal and individual. Yet, when shared with others, these stories became more than personal experiences. They created connections, invited people to understand and listen, challenged them to question, and ultimately encouraged them to act.
I have never been to Rwanda, but I can understand the significance of reconciliation and the ways in which it can shape the lives of future generations. I am not Korean, nor have I experienced the division of a nation firsthand, but I can still recognize the pain of families being separated and the longing for connection and reunification. This made me realize that perhaps the power of a personal story lies not only in its specificity, but also in its ability to reveal something that allows others to see themselves, or something they deeply value, in another person’s experience.
In October, I will be celebrating my fifth year with Mindanao Peacebuilding Institute. Five years of being part of a community of peacebuilders and humanitarian workers, listening and documenting stories that can inspire to take action. I have served as a vessel for the stories of people who have experienced trauma and discrimination, as well as those who have done exceptional work in their communities. While I have always tried to listen and pay attention, it took me years to fully recognize the power and responsibility I hold as the reteller of these stories, and to acknowledge the limitations that come with trying to preserve their authenticity through my own words.
The reflective questions posed by Moe and Paul in the Storytelling and Story-listening course continue to linger even while I’m writing this piece. I guess the goal is not necessarily to find concrete answers, but to continue embracing the journey, remaining open to learning, listening, and making space for stories along the way.
- ANNA G. :)
I would like to thank Northeast Asia Regional Peacebuilding Institute (NARPI) for this unforgettable learning experience. I would like to also thank Mindanao Peacebuilding Institute and Mr. Al Fuertes for supporting me in this journey. And lastly, thank you to all the wonderful people from Northeast Asia and beyond whom I had the privilege of meeting throughout the training. Your stories, experiences, and presence have made this journey truly meaningful.All photos in this article are taken by and provided courtesy of NARPI.
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Riverhouse ePress

Riverhouse ePress is a website maintained by Dr. Ron Kraybill, a founder of the first peacebuilding institutes at Eastern Mennonite University and other places. The website markets a low-cost, culturally flexible conflict style inventory, hosts Kraybill's blog on peacebuilding and conflict resolution, and provides free resources for trainers.
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swisspeace

swisspeace is a practice-oriented peace research institute. They analyze armed conflicts and develop strategies for their peaceful transformation.
swisspeace also offers post-graduate continuing education and has a number of publications.