Break the silence, break the mould: female leadership in the aid sector

A few days ago, I came to Trinidad to show my son the country where he was born. I hope he falls in love with it as I did 11 years ago. It is also the first time in my 16 years of working that I am taking a break between jobs. As a rule, I would finish my contract on Friday only to start somewhere new the following Monday.

Why did I not take such breaks before? I think it is because I am a woman, and we tend to feel extra grateful or even indebted if we are offered a new opportunity, so we diligently dive right in. We feel the pressure to prove ourselves. To work extra hard, go the extra mile, and prove that we belong here.

I see my female friends, established humanitarian and development professionals with decades of experience, wonder if they can ask their employer for flexible hours? Remote working? A salary raise? They hesitate. I used to hesitate too. We, women, still feel like we are here on borrowed time. We try to emulate men to be credible, and is it any wonder? When I look at my humanitarian superheroes, the first thing that stands out is that they all were men. Henry Dunant, Marcel Junod, Sergio Vieira de Mello, etc. No wonder women might feel inadequate: we are not celebrating enough female role models in the aid sector, and we should, because women face different challenges and our paths are often different, too.

Those of us who are mothers will be able to relate. When it was time for me to tell my employer that I would be on maternity leave in a few months, I felt almost guilty. I was young, married and working for a Christian charity, and I still heard my HR person say: "Oh, congratulations! Let me think. You see, NOBODY GOT PREGNANT ON A MISSION BEFORE." Ouch. The next issue was negotiating a place and time to express breastmilk in the office when I came from my maternity leave a week before my son turned three months. We promoted exclusive breastfeeding until six months of age but had no such policy for our employees.

When my son was six months old, I applied for a place in a highly regarded Humanitarian Leadership programme. It had a face-to-face module in a Pacific country I had to attend. I tried to negotiate staying off campus at night during that week so I could bring my nine months old because I was still breastfeeding him. It was a straight no. “Sorry, we cannot accommodate you. It’s the duty of care. Sorry, it’s the duty of care”. It wasn't a trip to a war zone or disaster-affected area. I never understood what duty of care had to do with it, but I had to withdraw from the programme because I also had a duty of care, care for my son.

He is six now, and I no longer have to take him on my work trips, but whenever I travel, I always know there will be this question: "And who’s looking after your son now?!" Although looking after your child too much can also be an issue. When I was negotiating to work from home on Fridays, I once heard from my manager: "And how do I know you will be working and not looking after your son?" At least, COVID answered that question.

But even if you are not a mother, you will still find your journey as a woman bewilderingly different from that of men. What about our typical safety and security training? It goes on and on about all sorts of things and then zooms through the issues of sexual assault? Do we even have security training genuinely tailored to women’s needs in the sector? Or what about the incessant harassment that many of us endured with gritted teeth for years to ensure that this donor office or that government agency would continue working with the organisations we represent? A male colleague once told me to 'use my beautiful eyes' when I asked for tips on how to make training more engaging.

Oh, and don’t get me started on modest dressing. How many of our male colleagues meticulously and desperately examine their wardrobe before a field trip to rural Pakistan? Although if you are a young woman in an office environment, it doesn’t even matter where you are based or what you wear. Regardless, you will always be the one who’s asked to take notes, order lunches and “help out” with secretarial stuff even if your job has nothing to do with it.

So yes, our journeys are different, and many women arrive at that point in their careers where they get to occupy positions of leadership or power hardened by the years of 'leaning in' or trying to emulate men as the only viable leadership model. I might have been on the same trajectory until a few years ago when I was asked to speak about being a woman in this sector. It made me think. Of course, I could have spoken about all the issues above, and I knew most women in the room would have been able to relate. But being a woman is not only about overcoming obstacles, it is also about acknowledging the unique power that you have. So instead, I chose to speak about things that made me happy to be a woman working in the aid sector.

There were many. Like being able to sit with men AND women in the communities where we work, seeing those women trust me and open up as they would never to a man. I remember how a mostly quiet group of women from a community where we worked burst into talking as soon as the last male team member was out of earshot. They shared things they could not tell a man. The domestic abuse they were facing, or that they couldn’t participate in the project activities because they had no one to leave their young children with. Once a group of women displaced by floods shared that the well-meaning male team members forgot to put menstrual pads into their hygiene kits.

As a woman, I have had the access to our communities many men would not be able to have just because they are men. I don’t think I have ever been seen as a threat working with children, and I could talk to them without suspicious glances in my direction.

As a woman, I embraced the opportunity to be there with those who are grieving and not have to appear strong or fight back the tears. I remember how our all-female team accompanied women who lost their sons and husbands in a mine explosion to the local morgue, to be with them during the identification of their remains. It was a very dark place, but at the time, it seemed that only women could share it.

Having this female lens on whenever I reviewed a project design, and knowing that I won’t overlook the issues of maternity, care work, menstrual hygiene and SGBV that women in our communities are dealing with, has been one of the most empowering experiences of my career. And I can do it not only because I am a humanitarian, but mostly because I am also a woman, like the women in those communities.

Once, I found out that the women in one of the sites, where our project for post-cyclone recovery was implemented, were not allowed to participate in the cash-for-work activities “because they are too precious to do construction work and need to be protected”. I imagined how desperate I would feel if my only chance of earning some money to support my family would be taken away from me like that, under the guise of protection. Needless to say, that unwritten policy was changed.

So I thought, if being a woman is giving us unique opportunities for our community-facing work, it should help us work with our teams, too. During this pandemic, we saw many examples of compassionate female leadership like those of Jacinda Ardern , Mia Mottley, Tsai Ing-Wen, Silveria Jacobs and Angela Merkel. Droupadi Murmu, a woman, was elected last week to lead the largest democracy on the planet. Female leadership - often built on radical empathy - is finally on the rise. And our sector should be embracing it too.

My own small way of 'leading like a girl' has been about supporting other women, encouraging them to have boundaries, to speak up, to put their oxygen masks on first, to ask for help and to take care of their wellbeing without feeling guilty, weak or unprofessional. I have advocated for fair pay, leave and career progression; tried to create safe spaces for difficult conversations and ensure that those I work with don’t have to go through the troubles I had to.

I wanted women who work with me to know the potential pitfalls but also see the opportunities that being a woman in this sector is giving us. I am often told that I am too 'maternal' with my team. I couldn’t think of a better compliment. Moreover, I only have good things to show for it because everyone I have managed has always gone above and beyond. As anyone would in a nurturing and supportive environment.

On this journey, I met some incredible women who preached the same values and practised them unwaveringly. Today is not international women's day but every day is a women's day, so today I’m celebrating female leadership and all it has to offer. In the meantime, I am also going to practice what I preach and take ten days off before I start my new job.