What working in the deep field has taught me as a humanitarian

BY GABRIEL ADEYEMO

In the last three years, I have formed the habit of sharing personal reflections on life and career on my birthdays. As a leading communications person in the UN refugee agency, my work mandates me to do a lot of documenting and writing, but most of it happens and ends behind the scenes. So this personal tradition, in which I get to reflect and share fragments of myself with the world every 365 days, has come to stay. It is my attempt at stock-taking to understand and remember the privileges of living with gratitude.

On my last birthday, one of the most significant pieces of news I received was that my colleague, abducted by a Non-State Armed Group militia for six months, was released. And in what I will think was a coincidence, it turned out to be prayers come through as I was opportune to be one of the first eyewitnesses and responders to the news. Insurgents had kidnapped him, and the longer he was held, the more his family and colleagues wondered if he was ever coming back home. In the end, things ended joyfully, and I will continue to perceive that encounter as one of the best birthday gifts ever. “Incidentally, I will be celebrating this year’s birthday in another remote part of the north-east, in the company of the internally displaced persons (IDPs), to whom my working hours are dedicated.” These downtrodden and mostly forgotten demographics have come to redefine how I see life. The optimism I have witnessed in our interaction despite the despairing conditions around them has taught me to cherish the simple things of life.

Career development experts would mainly advise that we do not make our jobs part of our identity, but this negates how much influence some jobs can have on you. My job involves listening to people’s stories, often unfortunate and despairing ones. Those whose lives have been disrupted by conflict. Those forced to flee to safety with no idea if the home they were forced to flee from would ever feel like one again.

I once spoke to a learned colleague who’d worked in a space similar to mine for about ten years, and then suddenly, life happened; he was in a refugee camp needing assistance. Recently, my colleagues and I documented the woeful tale of a woman and her six children who’ve not had a proteinous meal for months. Three whole months! This story and several others alike, however, attracted very generous donations from a donor. And that, to me, is the beauty of our shared humanity. That someone in the Middle East can be as invested in the plight of a beleaguered mother in a remote Nigerian village.

For years I have listened to people’s stories in the deep field (a term we used in the development sector to refer to a remote place or (of) people in desperate conditions) and came back to tell their stories so my organisation can raise donations for them. But this year, I seemed to have had an epiphanous moment in which I asked myself: but how about you? How can you contribute beyond the professional boundaries of your job? And the answer did not take long to arrive.

For years, I was sure the best way to relax was by channelling personal resources on overpriced entities, edibles, and other outdoor activities. But then, the degree of poverty I saw in the deep field this year made me pause for a while and reflect on the privileges some of us may take for granted. And today, I feel a more profound sense of satisfaction when I can share my time and personal resources, however small, with IDPs and my refugee friends. I learned this year that the little help we render others may not change the world, but it might make the world a better place for that person.

And so, when I return from the deep field these days, I retreat to the comfort of my home and listen to the sound of silence. I revel in my personal space, having cast the spell of the extroverted party animal I used to be. I have learned that it is not always about what we give but about whom we give to. Since my profession constantly puts me in a position to see how precarious life can be, I have learned to let go of things quickly. Life is fragile, so I am more forgiving of people but have also developed the habit of letting go of people who need me to prove that I am a good person. In effect, friendship for me is no longer limited to work colleagues or those I share leisure periods with. True friendship is also the smiles and warmth that welcome me into the deep field.

See you again this time next year.

Gabriel Adeyemo can be reached via oludrey@gmail.com