F*** the Boards: What If Governance Was Built on Knowledge Exchange? By Fezzan Ahmed
With a background in community advocacy and philanthropy, Fezzan Ahmed founded Jigsaw House Society to catalyse impactful collaborations and champion community-led action. Drawing on extensive experience in building alliances and fostering social change, Fezzan leads JHS with an entrepreneurial spirit, empowering diverse voices to address complex social issues. Committed to creating sustainable, community-driven solutions, Fezzan’s work at JHS shifts power dynamics, fosters resilience, and amplifies collective impact.
Author’s Note – A Flip in Real Time
Ever had road rage?
That jolt of fury when someone cuts you off, speeds past, or blocks your lane. You don’t know them, they don’t know you, but suddenly you’re swearing at a stranger through glass.
Someone once said to me: “You don’t know what kind of day they’ve had.
That line flipped something from anger to curiosity. It didn’t erase the moment, but reminded me—there’s always a story I can’t see.
That’s what happened when I started writing this. I was vexed. And I had every right to be. The harm is real. The weight of navigating community spaces under broken governance systems is real.
But I’ve sat on the other side too. With funders, philanthropists, CEOs and Chairs. I’ve seen good people stuck in bad systems, trying to make it work. And often failing.
No one really knows what’s happening in the room where decisions are made.
So I flipped it.
Not the critique. That still stands.
But the tone. The approach. The invitation.
This piece is here to connect. And to flip things. The board. The power. The perspectives. To help us see each other more clearly.
If you’ve ever felt the system’s weight, from either side, and wondered how to carry it differently, this is for you.
Let’s flip this. Together.
Hold Power. Or Hold Weight.
I’m about to make some sweeping generalisations. Not because they’re always true, but because they help energy and ideas flow.
Let’s go.
Boards of funders, at their worst, hold most of the power and little of the weight.
Boards of grassroots orgs, at their best, hold most of the weight and little of the power.
We know this. We feel it. And the cost? Trust, connection, knowledge exchange.
Now imagine the reverse.
Grassroots boards hoarding power but ducking responsibility.
Funder boards shouldering urgent pressure without controlling capital.
We’ve never seen that. Because we know which one is more likely.
So here’s the question. What if we flipped the board?
Drop In. Zoom Out.
Drop funder boards and their investment committees into grassroots organisations. Let them step into the storm.
And while we're at it, bring their wealth-building heads with them. Lord knows grassroots boards could use some of that.
Now picture it.
A funder board member flips into a grassroots board meeting. No air conditioning. No pastries. No mahogany table.
It’s online. Everyone’s juggling child care, dinner and deadlines. The meeting’s wedged between two crises. On the table? Safeguarding concerns. Legal risks. Possible redundancies.
No time to debate vision statements or tweak theory of change.
But someone says, “Let’s write this report together.”
Someone else says, “My mate’s a partner at a law firm, I’ll call him.”
Pro bono, of course. Because they can’t afford not to.
This isn’t governance as oversight. This is governance as solidarity.
Now flip it again.
A grassroots leader steps into a funder boardroom. Fast wifi. Smooth coffee. A £300 million endowment portfolio.
They’re asked to protect capital, ensure growth, align values and deliver impact. Long-term.
Sounds like a dream, right?
But they also feel the heat. People are in pain now. Projects collapsing. Movements burning out.
There’s not enough to go around. And someone will be left behind. Not because they don’t matter, but because the numbers won’t stretch.
That pressure isn’t just abstract. It’s emotional. Ethical. Strategic.
And then the sector starts blaming you for not doing enough.
What would you do?
If you're a grassroots leader, you’ll probably never get the chance to find out.
Let’s save that for another article.
Flip for Real Value
Flipping the board doesn’t just swap perspectives, it multiplies them.
It square-roots our understanding. It dismantles rigid power structures and activates real knowledge exchange. Insight starts to circulate. Empathy forms. Solutions emerge.
Because when power shifts, knowledge moves.
And where knowledge moves, relationships can grow.
And where relationships grow, systems can actually change.
Governance Encourages Disconnection
Trigger warning for anyone experiencing decent to excellent governance. Respect. But for the rest of us?
Disconnection is baked into governance.
Trustees are taught to be strategic, non-executive, objective.
To stay calm, professional, removed.
Some people can do that. They’ve got the expertise, capacity and structure. Sick. Respect.
But most grassroots boards? They’re up close. Holding trauma. Navigating crisis. Plugging gaps. Supporting staff. Reacting to a whole broken funding ecosystem, not just a single grant decision.
Even when a rare major investment lands, there’s rarely the time or infrastructure for that power to take root. Not because the org lacks ability, but because they’ve never been trusted to build toward abundance.
So when we talk about harm,
It’s not just about intention.
It’s about the gap.
Harm Grows in the Gap
When knowledge is disconnected or hoarded, harm grows in the space between intention and impact.
Boards don’t usually mean to cause harm. They’re just too far away to feel it. They lack the difference of perspective that generates the creativity we need. Shout out, Audrey.
Because the harm happens out of sight. Out of hearing range. Outside the algorithm.
Take funder investment committees.
Still approving portfolios with fossil fuels, surveillance tech, militarised AI.
Not because they’re cruel, but because they’re insulated.
One of the UK’s biggest funders still holds hundreds of millions in fossil fuels, while funding “climate solutions.”
Some of the biggest returns in investment portfolios come from tech and AI often from firms that sell surveillance systems and weapons to genocidal regimes. Boards holding shares in those companies are profiting from precision warfare, while drafting strategy papers about justice and equity.
You could call that a knowledge gap.
But really, it’s a brutal trade-off.
Invest for the future, if that’s the kind of future you want,
or meet urgent need in the present.
And when that need is homelessness, suicide prevention or community trauma, how do you justify saying “not yet”
That’s not a technical decision.
That’s a moral one.
And the people most affected?
They’re not in the room.
Or they’re biting their tongues because calling it out means risking the grant that feeds their community, their staff, and their families.
Disconnection doesn’t just break systems.
It breaks voices.
What If…
What if investment committees prioritised long-term, low-return, high-integrity strategies, co-designed with the people most affected?
What if they built endowments that paid out stable, unrestricted grants, no repeat applications, no performance theatre?
What if the grant wasn’t a gift, but a share in the future?
That’s what whole asset impact could be.
Not power held on behalf of, but shared with.
It would mean:
Fewer short-term grants
Tougher conversations
Maybe fewer headlines
But it might also mean:
No more silence
No more begging
No more harm dressed up as impact
Grassroots Knowledge Is Strategy
Let’s stop saying “lived experience” like it’s some quaint side dish.
Grassroots leaders are strategists, system designers, risk managers.
They work in hostile environments, with no margin for error, and everything on the line.
They don’t just tell stories. They bring data, solutions, intelligence forged in fire.
But the system doesn’t see that.
It tokenises.
It invites them in to share, not shape.
To advise, not decide.
To be heard, not held in power.
And when power isn’t shared, neither is knowledge.
So strategy becomes detached. It floats. Meaningful, but unmoored.
To fix this, we have to:
Reclaim knowledge
That takes time, money, structure and capacity.
It’s not just about confidence. It’s about resourcing your expertise.Build shared power
Because knowledge without power is observation
And power without knowledge is reckless
Here’s the opportunity.
Power doesn’t always have to be wrestled. It can be offered.
There are people in funder and investment boardrooms who see the gaps. Who want to share power. Who are ready to walk beside, not above.
When that happens, shared power becomes knowledge exchange in action.
And governance begins to shift.
We stop managing problems.
We start dismantling the structures that caused them.
Connection Moves Through People
What if governance stopped being about guarding ground
and started being about cultivating connection?
Wherever you sit, trustee, NED, investment chair, or staff, reach out.
To someone across the divide.
Especially if they carry a different kind of weight.
Especially if your board looks nothing like theirs.
Because connection doesn’t move through paperwork.
It moves through people.
The secret meetings. The one-on-ones. The WhatsApp thread. That awkward coffee.
Make time for that. It’s work too.
Flip a meeting. Swap a seat. Send a message.
Spark something.
Even if it’s just one conversation.
Even if it’s just one shared question.
That’s how trust begins.
That’s how governance changes.
Final Invitation
If you’re sitting on a research budget, a university post, or a funding pot, use it.|
Write the papers.
Gather the data.
Resource the rethink.
Because some of the biggest endowments I’ve seen aren’t in community organisations.
They’re in universities and research funds.
Now’s the time to use them differently.
To those ready to challenge this idea, come.
Tear into it. Make it stronger.
To those ready to fund it, come.
Back it. Prototype it. Grow it.
And to those who’ve been carrying this disconnection for too long, quietly, bitterly, patiently,
This is your sign.
Let’s flip the board.
Not just to share power.
But to exchange knowledge.
To recover trust.
To rethink what governance could actually be.
And maybe, just maybe,
if we stay close enough,
share deeply enough,
and honour what we already know,
We’ll know enough
to make
charity
unnecessary.