I want to begin with a memory that is not mine but has been told to me many times. A dispute between two families has dragged on for a year. The elders call an indaba. They sit in a circle from morning until dusk. The elders speak last. By nightfall, the dispute is resolved — not because anyone won, but because everyone has been heard. Whether or not it ever happened, the memory teaches what Indaba is — better than any definition does. Indaba for Remote Teams? The story is the answer.
What Indaba Actually Means
Translators usually settle on something like: Indaba is a Zulu and Xhosa word for a council meeting — historically of elders, today of any group that needs to make a decision worth keeping. The form has been borrowed by international climate negotiators, corporate boards, and community organisations because of one quality: it produces decisions that hold. It does this by refusing the Western meeting model — the loudest voice, the rushed vote, the unread minutes — in favour of structured listening, ritualised speech, and visible consensus. It is a defensible translation. But translation is the surface. Indaba carries underneath it a set of assumptions — about what a person is, what owes what to whom, and what success even means — that the English sentence cannot deliver.
If you want to know the end, listen to the beginning.Yoruba
The Question This Post Is About
Distance is the test of Indaba. How it works when you cannot share a room. The question is worth taking seriously, because Indaba is one of those concepts that loses its shape when handled carelessly — and recovers it as soon as the reader is willing to slow down and listen.
Take the modern workplace as a test case. The dominant Western model treats the team as a coalition of individual contributors who happen to share a Slack channel — each evaluated alone, promoted alone, and let go alone. Indaba starts somewhere different. It assumes that the unit of analysis is the team, that performance is co-produced, that to praise a single person without naming the people around them is a kind of category error. The implications are uncomfortable for managers trained in the Western model. Meetings end with the convener summarising what was decided and asking each person whether they recognise the summary.
A Second Angle
For the person living far from Southern Africa — in a city of strangers, in a flat of one, in a job that has nothing to do with the village they came from — Indaba can feel like it belongs to someone else's life. It does not. The diasporic reading of Indaba is not a watered-down version. It is a different test of the same idea. Meetings end with the convener summarising what was decided and asking each person whether they recognise the summary.
Where the Concept Resists
There is a real risk in romanticising Indaba. The Zulu / Southern African traditions that produced it have always also produced internal critics — voices warning against the misuse of communal philosophy to demand conformity, to silence the young, to protect bad behaviour by elders. The honest defender of Indaba keeps those critics at the table.
What to Do With This
There is no certificate at the end of Indaba. There is only the slow accumulation of choices made differently — meetings shaped differently, relationships tended differently, decisions weighed differently. The reward is not visible. The cost is real. Over time the difference becomes a kind of life.
The full philosophy, as a book
How to run meetings where everyone is heard — and the decisions you make actually stick.
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