A personal reflection — and a call to action

Mental well-being-collective responsibility in the humanitarian sector

I would call this another emergency—an emergency response for the mental well-being of aid workers.

I am writing this reflection at a time when mental well-being in the humanitarian sector is facing a silent and growing crisis. Its connects closely with my earlier thoughts on responsibility and resilience in uncertain times.

I have been disturbed since yesterday, 22 December 2025. In the morning, I heard the news that one of my ex-colleagues—more than a colleague, like a big brother to me—died by suicide. He was one of the most cheerful, happy, and culturally rich people I knew. He always motivated me during my low times. Even now, I still can’t believe this happened. He is the last person I could ever imagine choosing this path. He was always smiling, deeply engaged with music and culture, and full of life. He worked in the aid sector for a very long time, and after the USAID funding cuts, he was also impacted.

This is deeply alarming. Thousands—if not more—have already lost their jobs, and with further funding cuts expected in 2026, this crisis will only grow in the humanitarian sector. The question is: what will all those people do?

I am not an expert, and I believe there are many experts thinking about this at a higher level. But with my limited knowledge, I strongly believe this is the right time—not just to talk about mental health, but to take real, practical action. And this responsibility does not lie with organizations alone. We are all responsible as humans.

Yes, organizations can arrange trainings and counseling—but these must be practical, not just theoretical or traditional. Mental health support should not be a checkbox exercise. Every supervisor, manager, and leader must have the basic ability to talk to their team members, notice changes, listen without judgment, and guide people toward support when needed.

And as individuals, we can start small. We can check on at least five people around us—regularly and genuinely, not just once. Sometimes a simple question, asked at the right time, can save a life.

One thought keeps coming to my mind: this crisis in the humanitarian sector is not new. Funding cuts, job losses, and uncertainty are not happening for the first time in history. As humans, we have faced far more difficult crises before—and survived. This is another funding crisis. If the situation remains the same, millions of people are not going to die. So what should we do?

I think it is time to look back at human history. People survived by farming, investing, learning technical skills, and adapting. There have always been multiple ways to survive and rebuild.

But somewhere along the way, we created a fake society—where a secure job, lifestyle, and position matter more than peaceful income and mental well-being. When we try to fit ourselves into that narrow definition of success, it deeply affects our mental health. Why do we make life more complicated when life is already complicated?

And honestly, in this sector, we always knew from the beginning that humanitarian work is donor-funded. Then why do we treat it like a retirement job?

This is the time for aid workers to expand their horizons—to level up skills, learn technical or transferable skills, think beyond traditional job roles, and create alternative paths. Yes, it may mean adjusting our standard of living for a while. Yes, society may react. Yes, the “fake charm” may fade.

But economically, during any crisis, adjustment is necessary until balance returns. And nothing is permanent; neither is this crisis, as long as we are trying.

This reflection comes from a simple place: what I can do, what we can do, and what we can do together.

If we truly want to respond to this crisis in a meaningful way, we must move beyond sympathy and statements. We need small, practical actions that can be applied immediately—by organizations, leaders, and individuals.


What we can do to protect mental well-being in the humanitarian sector:

1. Make mental health conversations part of daily work, not emergency response : Organizations should normalize regular check-ins that are informal and human—not performance-driven. A 10-minute conversation can matter more than a one-day workshop. Mental health must be part of team culture, not addressed only after damage is done.

2. Equip managers with real listening skills, not just leadership titles: Every supervisor and manager should receive basic guidance on how to listen, recognize early signs of distress, and respond without judgment. This is not about becoming therapists—it is about being human first.

3. Build skill diversification into humanitarian career planning: Aid workers should be encouraged—and supported—to build transferable and technical skills alongside their roles. Data, finance, digital tools, analysis, teaching, freelancing, or small enterprise are not exits from the sector, but safety nets in uncertain systems.

4. Redefine dignity beyond job titles and lifestyle: As a sector, we must stop glorifying burnout and insecure stability. Temporary lifestyle adjustment is not failure. Peaceful income, flexibility, and mental balance should be treated as success—not weakness.

5. Practice collective responsibility at an individual level: Each of us can commit to checking on at least five people—colleagues, friends, former teammates. Not once. Not casually. But consistently. We don’t need more advice. We need presence—a listening space without judgment.


Recommendations for donors and INGOs

1. Integrate mental health safeguards into funding decisions : Donors should require organizations to include mental health risk mitigation plans in funding proposals, particularly where large-scale downsizing or program closures are anticipated. This may include short-term counseling access, transition support, or peer-support mechanisms.

2. Institutionalize manager-level psychosocial competency: INGOs should make basic mental health literacy, listening skills, and emotional intelligence mandatory for all supervisory and management roles. This is not clinical training, but practical guidance on early identification, supportive communication, and referral pathways.

3. Normalize career diversification and transition planning: Donors and INGOs should support skill diversification, technical upskilling, and career transition pathways as part of humanitarian workforce development—without stigma.

This may include:

  • Cross-sector skill training
  • Digital and technical skill development
  • Time-bound support during funding gaps

4. Redefine success and sustainability in humanitarian employment : Organizations should move away from implicit expectations of long-term stability in donor-funded roles and instead promote transparent communication about employment risk, alternative pathways, and realistic lifestyle adjustments during funding fluctuations.

5. Allocate transitional support during funding contractions: Where funding cuts are unavoidable, donors could allow limited transitional support mechanisms, such as:

  • Short-term income bridging/ Short project
  • Access to mental health services
  • Career guidance and referral support

This is a difficult time for the humanitarian sector—and for the world, facing different crises in different forms.

But silence, isolation, and unrealistic expectations make it deadly.

We have survived crises before—as humans, not just as professionals. We can survive this too, if we allow ourselves to adapt, support each other, and redefine what stability truly means.

This is not just an organizational issue.

This is a human one.

And it requires action—from all of us.

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