Written by Aysha Ali
Aysha Ali is a PhD researcher and recipient of the Quintin Hogg Studentship at the University of Westminster. Her research investigates how colonial ideologies related to race and religion have influenced political narratives in India, with a particular emphasis on their impact on contemporary advertising. By analysing the representation of marginalised communities, such as Muslims, in Indian advertisements, she seeks to reveal how colonial legacies persist in media practices, shaping societal perceptions and reinforcing power dynamics. Prior to pursuing her PhD, Aysha spent seven years in India’s advertising industry as a 3D generalist, crafting visual narratives for a variety of campaigns. This practical experience significantly informs her academic work. Beyond her research, she enjoys pottery, climbing, and animated films.
On Tuesday, 8th April 2025, I attended the ‘Unpacking the Curriculum’ report launch at the University of Westminster, Regent Street, organised by Pedagogies of Social Justice. The event presented findings from a recent survey conducted within the university to understand how staff and students perceive efforts to decolonise the curriculum and advance social justice. Alongside the launch, there was a workshop and a panel discussion on colonial practices in higher education and ongoing decolonial efforts in teaching and learning.
The workshop, Creative Chaos for Another University, was led by Dr Annapurna Menon and was a powerful, creative experience. It invited us to imagine our own “Another University”- which I saw as more equitable, just, and inclusive of diverse knowledge, cultures and experiences. We began with introductions, each sharing a piece of work that has inspired them. Hearing about others’ influences, books, events, and personal experiences motivated me to explore some of those works myself.
While working on our collaborative collage, we connected through conversations. During one such chat, someone suggested I read Aníbal Quijano’s work on the coloniality of power, as in my PhD study, I’m exploring the representation of Muslims in advertisements under right-wing Hindu nationalism, a project deeply tied to colonial legacies. She shared that his work could help me better understand how knowledge remains shaped by colonial structures even in postcolonial societies.
Annapurna then guided us through reflective questions to reimagine the university, using magazine cutouts, crayons, coloured pens, stickers and coloured sheets to bring our visions to life. Toward the end, we moved around the room to observe others’ artworks and add to them, a beautiful act of layering experiences and perspectives.
As someone from India, a country with a long history of colonisation, I found the workshop deeply resonant. It gave me space to reflect on how coloniality still permeates education systems and allowed me to bring those reflections into the vision of “Another University.” Contributing to each other’s pieces reinforced the idea of collective transformation, where every kind of knowledge is welcomed without hierarchy.
Beyond its intellectual engagement, the workshop was incredibly grounding. Scribbling with colours and externalising what was in our heads felt therapeutic, especially in a time when students and universities are under constant scrutiny, and inequity and discrimination against marginalised communities continue to rise. The space welcomed diverse perspectives and fostered belonging.
After a short break, we moved to the panel discussion, where our collage was displayed. Jennifer presented the survey results, which provided important insights into how students and staff view decolonial efforts within the university. It also offered steps forward. While listening, I recalled a moment during a teaching workshop where a fellow participant, before her presentation, nervously asked me if it was okay to mention that Britishers had colonised Hong Kong. She was worried about offending someone. This hesitation reflects the very structures of coloniality. This moment stayed with me and highlighted why capturing the perspectives of those navigating these tensions in real-time is crucial.
The panel brought together a mix of students and educators: Carol Tellez Contrera, a law student; Kelsea Costin, a student from SOAS; Professor Mrinalini Greedharry from the University of Essex; and Associate Professor Onni Gust from the University of Nottingham, moderated by Kyra Araneta from CETI at Westminster. They shared honest reflections on the challenges and possibilities of doing decolonial work in higher education.
What stood out to me was the emphasis on collaborative models of education, partnerships between students and teachers, community-led discussions, and the importance of challenging colonial legacies embedded in institutions, particularly in law, business schools and universities with long colonial histories. There was also discussion around disrupting the one-way flow of knowledge typical of large lecture halls and the need to carve out small but meaningful spaces for transformation classrooms, reading groups, or student-led projects.
During the discussion, I reflected on how coloniality is still very present in India’s education system. Colonial education was designed to produce subjects who were “a class of persons, Indian in blood and colour, but English in taste, in opinions, in morals and intellect.” Before colonisation, knowledge systems in India thrived through institutions like madrasas and gurukuls. But colonial frameworks displaced these systems, and to this day, people studied in madrasas are seen as unfit for mainstream jobs. Muslims are increasingly racialised and accused of receiving “radical” education in madrasas.
Now, a lot of Asian or Black students studying in the UK often encounter dismissive attitudes toward the kind of education many of us received; we’re told we’re not “critical” enough, only good at memorising or taking exams. Again, we’re made to feel like we’re not good enough. When will this cycle end, where one kind of knowledge is deemed superior while others are devalued?
This marginalisation follows us into the capitalist job market, which judges our worth using the same narrow standards. As Gayatri Spivak (2023) reminds us in Can the Subaltern Speak? We must reclaim the voices of the marginalised and challenge the systems that silence them. Decolonising education must also mean expanding what counts as knowledge and questioning who decides what is “good enough.”