15 | Professional Beneficiaries

Disclaimer: Another possibly slightly controversial post. On a personal note, I would like to add that thinking and writing about such topics doesn’t come easy for me — but it does keep me up at night and I believe it’s the right thing to address them openly. I do not claim to have a perfect understanding of the context, to ask the right question, and certainly not to have world-changing answers. As always, I am very open to receive thoughts, feedback, and questions. Thank you.

A few years ago, I had a summer job in a nursing home. I remember many fascinating conversations with elderly people and listening to their stories. One thing that I remember observing, is that some people in nursing homes become excellent at being clients. They know the meal times, the details of the daily schedule, how to get certain things and how not to get others. They have learned the codes and know how to play the game. 

It was only recently, when I fell fairly sick. I had to stay in bed for a while and wasn’t able to do much. Being dependent on others for making tea and cooking food, I was shocked to realize that I started to take on the role of a sick person. When people asked me how I was feeling, it was almost as if the “correct” answer (according to my role) was “not great”. Even after I started to feel better, I sometimes found myself pausing for a second when I got asked about my health.

In some way, this is merely a natural adaptation to our environment. We assimilate with our surroundings and learn how to behave and become part of the wider system. And in doing so, we constantly take on roles: as siblings, coworkers, neighbours, etc. If we are taking a role (voluntarily or involuntarily), it seems like we start to let that role become a part of who we are. It depends, of course, on the duration and intensity of the role, but over time can start to influence our behaviour. We simply learn how to navigate the world around us — through our role. 

Sadly, a similar phenomenon seems to occur with people who live in places of chronic emergencies, where humanitarian NGOs have been meeting basic needs for decades. 

A colleague once asked a young man from a small village about his job. He responded, “I receive items from the NGOs.” Let that sink in. This man’s job is to receive items from NGOs. He considers himself a “professional aid-receiver”. — Shouldn’t that ring an alarm bell to the entire humanitarian world? 

To me, it’s deeply saddening and disturbing to hear this man’s story. It’s hard to blame him for this statement, he is merely observing and putting pieces together from experiences he has made. He has been living on continuous external support, and over time, learned how to play his role in the game. 

Maybe we (as humans) are yet to learn how to see the aid sector through a different lens. One that doesn’t lead to professional role-play, but to authentic human-to-human interaction. We may have to acknowledge that humanitarian aid may have pushed vulnerable people in need into the role of people in need. It’s one thing to be in need of assistance. It’s another thing, becoming what the west considers to be poor. 

It’s painful to see myself being a part of a solution and a problem simultaneously. It is unfortunate that we don’t seem to be able to do good without doing any harm. I keep asking myself: Is it still better to do something, rather than abstaining from any kind of intervention?

This rather uncomfortable ambiguity is not easy to endure. Which is why I keep reminding myself: At the end of the day, we are not aid givers or aid receivers — we are humans with innate and intrinsic dignity. Ethical debates about doing the right thing matter. But may rightness never blind us to humanity. 

Markus