Frida's Notebook

Some days you give yourself the benefit of the doubt

Today my assistant and I drove away from another disheartening interview with another woman being subjected to violence who doesn't trust the justice system enough to consider reporting this crime through official channels. I could see that the accumulation of the past week of interviews in this vein were taking a toll on her as much as they have been on me.

There is a very delicate balance to be maintained in this work between pragmatism and despondency. Most days, most weeks, I manage to hold this balance by focusing on specific goals:

• we will document all these cases and prepare a report;
• we will train all the Department of Women's Affairs' staff to use the new standardised data form for cases of violence against women;
• we will set up this briefing meeting for visiting experts with local women's organisations;
• we will help this Afghan women's NGO find donors.

Some days it feels like enough - we have thrown all the chaos out onto the table and identified these small but concrete steps we can take. Some days it just isn't enough of a response to the overwhelming sense of injustice, pain and fear we find all around us.  Some days you give yourself the benefit of the doubt and hope that it is all adding up to something bigger and better than the piece that you can see.

My assistant and I have taken to categorising days - there are:

• 'it's not certain, but if we give ourselves the benefit of the doubt there is a chance that we did something good today' days;
• 'it's all futile lets just go for a walk around the compound and talk about your future career plans' days; and
• 'there is a good chance that today we achieved something worthwhile' days.

As long as we have at least one or two of the latter per fortnight we seem to be able to keep up a sense of momentum for the other nine days. Yesterday was one of those days. I'm still enjoying the afterglow.

On all the other days I remind myself that just getting to work with two incredibly smart young Afghans, to nuture their natural intelligence and mentor them to become skilled and confident human rights officers, is more than enough to achieve in any given week.

My decision making took a short detour today into a street marked "Afghan Women's Oral History Project", it's about women, violence, trauma, survival, and transitional justice. Come on, you can't blame me for thinking that a project like that might be a once in a lifetime opportunity... So my resolve to leave is wavering, but I'll be back in Ghor soon and with plenty of time to listen to my gut. I'll let you know if I ever figure out what it is trying to tell me.

Recognition

Someone (who are you wise stranger?) said this - in response to my last post:

Many working at the front-end of humanitarian relief or human rights work become overwhelmed by the scale of the suffering around them, causing them to feel that they are of little value themselves. After all, it's not you who is starving, being carpet bombed or tortured.

This can express itself in many ways, including despondency (cutting off from non-aid friends, family), erratic behaviour and risk taking, lack of focus, myriad forms of self-harm (drinking, over-eating), but also as an inability to make decisions of any kind that are not simply reactive to the rigours of the working environment. After all, it's so bad here/there, what does it matter where you work, or for how long, or for how much money?

The mission working culture, lack of social life that is not shop-talk, the often very limited impact of your work, and the constant moral oneupmanship within humanitarian organisations reinforces these destructive habits. At the systematic level, consider the effect of the lack of well-defined career paths in the sector, and the constant instability that causes.

In summary, if you didn't have trouble making decisions, you'd be a freak in this sector.

I welcome and appreciate the kindness and wisdom in many other comments, but when I read  comments from people who have done humanitarian work, and/or those who have lived in conflict or post-conflict settings I recognise something of myself.

"an inability to make decisions of any kind that are not simply reactive to the rigours of the working environment"

"the setting somehow contributed to the fact that i couldn't make it right or 'control' my circumstances... and now i find myself in a big mire of indecision and confusion over what i want to be/do"

"I find it harder to leave the field than decide to go there (Gaza, Liberia, Pakistan.....)"

"yes - Afghanistan does make it hard to make decisions"

"many ... become overwhelmed by the scale of the suffering around them"

"it's so bad here/there, what does it matter where you work, or for how long, or for how much money?"

There are no easy answers in these comments, but there is something very reassuring in that recognition. It is one thing to read about these effects in a book (pocket guide for humanitarian field workers - anyone?) but quite another to read comments from real people who have been there.

My decision is coming along quite nicely too, thanks!