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For Hind Obeid, a Lebanese aid worker, Israel’s ongoing assault on Lebanon means surviving a crisis while responding to it.
Since Israel's bombardment and ground invasions in Lebanon began in March, more than 2,000 people, from children to healthcare workers, have been killed, and more than a million people have been displaced – including her.
“This war, or this escalation, feels like it's more unpredictable,” Obeid shares on the Rethinking Humanitarianism podcast. “It's like the feeling of, no place in Lebanon [feels] safe. We will be attacked from Israel wherever we go.”
Obeid’s work with Lebanese NGO Basmeh & Zeitooneh usually involves supporting refugees. But since 2024, she’s had to fulfill her obligations as a safeguarding officer while being displaced herself – alongside the fear of airstrikes, and the constant sound of drones.
“It's a kind of mix of responsibility and connection, to see people who need support and keep going,” Obeid says. “It's a way of resisting, to stay grounded.”
Obeid’s experience, which she recently wrote about for The New Humanitarian, attests to a more global truth about local aid workers – that they often face the biggest risks with the least support.
“There's an expectation on volunteers and aid workers to continue working, even if the situation is not safe. There's no place to recover, to process, while continuing responding to emergencies,” she says.
In conversation with Rethinking Humanitarianism producer Melissa Fundira, Obeid calls on the humanitarian sector to acknowledge that local aid workers “are also affected [and need] to have space to rest, to access mental health support, flexibility, when things become too much”.
Guest:
Hind Obeid, safeguarding officer and PSEAH focal point at Basmeh & Zeitooneh
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Transcript | A Lebanese aid worker on surviving war while responding to it
Hind Obeid
This war, or this escalation, feels like it's more unpredictable and more… It's like the feeling of, no place in Lebanon is feel safe. We will be attacked from Israel wherever we go.
Melissa Fundira
Welcome to Rethinking Humanitarianism, a show that explores the future of aid in a world of rising crisis. I’m producer Melissa Fundira. I’ll be hosting today’s episode. This time around, we’re doing something a little different.
Israel’s bombardment and ground invasions in Lebanon began in March, soon after Hezbollah retaliated against Israel for instigating war in Iran. Since then, more than a million people have been displaced in Lebanon, and more than 2,000 people – from children to healthcare workers – have been killed.
For our guest today, the ongoing assaults mean surviving a crisis while responding to it. Hind Obeid is a Lebanese aid worker with Basmeh & Zeitooneh, a refugee-led NGO. If you’ve been on our website lately, you may have come across the First Person piece Hind wrote for The New Humanitarian. It’s called ‘Reflections of a Lebanese aid worker on holding on while everything collapses.’
Hind Obeid
In the past two years, I have been forced to flee my home twice because of war. Both times, I told myself that I would adjust, and that things would be stabilised. Both times, I continued my job at an aid organisation, helping people who were also impacted by the war.
Melissa Fundira
What she describes is part of a universal experience – most aid workers are part of the communities they’re trying to help. They face the biggest risks, and often with the least support. And so, on today’s show, we'll hear directly from Hind herself.
Hind Obeid, thank you so much for joining us today.
Hind Obeid
Thank you, Melissa, for inviting me.
Melissa Fundira
I want to ask first of all, how are you doing today?
Hind Obeid
Today, I'm doing good because it's been like three days we didn't hear any bombing or any attacking that is happening, but I feel a little bit anxious because of the sounds of the drone. It's always around, but it's much better than last week. What happened last week was very sad, and overwhelming, and shocking.
Melissa Fundira
Can you take me back to last week, Hind? When did things start to shift for you, and what happened exactly?
Hind Obeid
Yeah, last week, on Wednesday, there were like one hundred strikes in ten minutes. Until now, what, the number of people that was killed during the Israeli airstrikes, they said that the number is above 300 but I don’t know, I'm not sure about the number. But last week, what I was feeling was I couldn't understand what's happening, where Israel is hitting or bombing. I'm displaced, and I have many of my family members are in different places, also my friends, also my colleagues, so I was confused, shocked, didn’t know what to do, who to talk – to check on. So, it was very hard last week, and now it's a little bit calmer and quieter, but there's the uncertainty that we don't know what will happen. We're waiting, also, for the agreement between Iran and the US, and if we will be included, yes or no. We didn't know yet.
Melissa Fundira
I mean, as you mentioned last week, there was the ceasefire that was announced between the US and Iran, and then, pretty quickly after the Israeli attack that you were just talking about happened, and I just wonder what that was like for you and other people on the ground. What was your reaction to that moment?
Hind Obeid
I don't know if it was predicted, because it's not the first time. I had the feeling that: why this is happening to us, and why we are the one who's being attacked and killed? It was overwhelming, actually, and I felt a lot, a lot of stress. I didn't know what to do. I just was asking myself where we will go, if no place is safe anymore.
Melissa Fundira
As you just mentioned, this isn't the first time you've had to live under bombardment, or do your job, under bombardment. When did you start to feel like a sense of normalcy was shifting for you? In your story you talk about 2024, for example.
Hind Obeid
When the escalation in 2024 happened, I didn't want to feel the fear, so I was in denial, until the 27th of September, when everything started to escalate on a larger level or scale. And back then, I went to my village just to run away because our place was not safe. But, even in my village, it wasn't normal. There's no routine. I cannot go outside. I cannot talk to people. It was very different and very hard back then, and now it's getting harder, because this war, or this escalation, feels like it's more unpredictable and more… It's like the feeling of, no place in Lebanon is feel safe. We will be attacked from Israel wherever we go.
Melissa Fundira
I'm so sorry to hear that. It sounds like a big difference this time around is that there's a sense of not knowing exactly what tomorrow will bring or where is a safe place to be, and you write about this in your article…
Hind Obeid
Over the past five weeks, my family has had to split up because we couldn’t afford to rent a place big enough for all of us. I’m staying with my fiancé and his family. In total we are fifteen displaced people in one house. There is no privacy. I’ve lost my daily routine and my own space. I used to run or go to the gym to manage stress, but now it feels like I can barely move. It feels strange to be a professional whose job is to keep others safe while I’m far away from my family, worrying about them, and struggling to do the things that I know I need to feel okay.
Melissa Fundira
I'm imagining you having to deal with that while also doing your work. And, I'm curious to know, before all of the escalation, what did your job usually look like, and how has it changed?
Hind Obeid
So, I'm the safeguarding officer at Basmeh & Zeitooneh. What I do is to monitor if safeguarding principles is being applied in our project centres. Are we being safe? So, that requires field visit to all our centres across Basmeh & Zeitooneh location. So, mainly my work is to monitor and to ensure that our policies and principles and values are being applied during implementation. So, what I make sure is to apply the principles of “do no harm.” Even during emergency, because during emergency, risks are getting higher because of the overcrowding of the needs, of the vulnerability of the people, power imbalance. So, what we do also during emergency is to maintain these standards and to make sure that all people that receiving aid, no matter nationalities, religion or place that they are from, to have the response, or the items, or the help, in the most safe, dignified and inclusive way, also. So, if the ground is good, or there's no attacking or bombing, I go to visits to see distribution sites to make sure that everything is safe. I like to see people, to see the reality on the ground, just to, not to have an idea, online idea, and sometimes to help. To be a human being on the ground, and help others, and help my colleagues.
Melissa Fundira
And, you're still able to make site visits now?
Hind Obeid
Not all the time. Sometimes it depends on the ground, and if there's safety risks. I am following up with all the volunteers across all Lebanon because we had a lesson learned from the last response. Because last response also, I couldn't go, for example, to the south. The south isn't accessible at all. I do go on field visit, even in emergency. I do as much as I can, of course. Sometimes situation doesn't help.
Melissa Fundira
And, I can also imagine that there are many things that you used to do that you can't do anymore. How has doing your job changed in the last few weeks, or in the last two years, really?
Hind Obeid
No. The main issue is to focus because of the feelings, stress, pressure. With all what's happening around, with all the news, the updates, and also because I try to be alert to the news, because sometimes when some of my colleagues are going for a distribution, I just want to see if they are safe or not. So, focusing is very hard during this time. Things that usually take hours, it took days to be done. During emergencies, we do take time for ourselves if needed, but because of the, of the risks, and the situation, and the escalation, and the need on the ground, we usually work all days, even sometimes there's an emergency or an urgent matter to do, so we do that. That’s what’s changed, yaani. I used to have a routine to relieve my stress, but now, everything is getting hard, you know. Small things like go for a walk or moving around, just to feel a bit grounded, doesn't work, you know. I start to move once again when I feel anxious, but even then, any sudden noise can feel really scary. What's hard now also, other than focusing, is even during visits and during distribution, I'm very alert, and just reading news to see if anything will happen, and sometimes we hear noises around us. So, everything changed, even how I do my work. I'm trying to manage and to adapt, of course, but it's very hard to do that, actually.
Melissa Fundira
And, of course, you have many colleagues who are having to try to manage as well. Many people such as yourself, who are providing aid while living in the same crisis as the people that they're trying to support. And, you write in your story that, for you, support has been coming at the colleague-to-colleague, the human-to-human level. What has it looked like to support yourself and support your colleagues? What are the conversations happening between each other?
Hind Obeid
Many colleagues now are displaced also, not only me. Some of them are in worse situation than me because they were displaced from the south. We do check on each other – colleagues, management – through WhatsApp, through calls. Whenever an airstrike or bombing, we know that a news happened in, or an evacuation order happened in a place, we check on each other. Also, I know colleagues from other organisations that their places were attacked, and their homes are not there anymore. Even after a mass attack or bombing, they went to their houses to collect some stuff or some things. They found their stuff, or their houses burned, or things not in their places, because of the airstrikes. Some of them, they cannot go to their villages or to their houses anymore, because of the occupation now and the invasion that is happening in the south. Of course, HR also do check on us – also the HR are displaced, by the way.
Melissa Fundira
And then, of course, there's support at the humanitarian sector level, the system level. And you write in your piece that: “the system depends on us, but does not fully resource the duty of care funders should be responsible for…"
Hind Obeid
In so many ways, my life has been turned upside down. Sometimes, working to make sure others safely get their basic necessities – like food, water, and shelter – feels like the only structure I have left. It creates a sense of purpose in a situation that is utterly unstable. But, it also requires an emotional and mental capacity that is not always available. The same work that keeps me – and other aid workers who are doing their best while also suffering through the war – going can become an added layer of pressure.
Melissa Fundira
Can you tell me a bit more about that? What is missing and what are you calling for?
Hind Obeid
The most important thing is to recognise that aid workers are also affected in the emergency and the situation. We are living in it at the same time as we are responding to it. Because support is not always reflected in how the system is set up. What we need is just to be – as aid workers – to be recognised, that we are also affected: to have space to rest, to access mental health support, flexibility, when things become too much, because there's lots of pressure to keep going, to continue delivering, no matter the situation. And, most of the people are very stressed, exhausted, and of course, overwhelmed, all the time. Helping each other, or helping our community, or responding in emergency gives a sense of stability, in a way, but it's also exhausting, and stressful also.
Melissa Fundira
So, if the people who have the power to bring that stability were listening to you right now, what support would you tell them you need today?
Hind Obeid
Just to acknowledge also that we are human, and we cannot always function the same way under these conditions, maybe. There's an expectation on volunteers and aid workers to continue working, even if the situation is not safe. There's no place to recover, to process, while continuing responding to emergencies.
Melissa Fundira
Hind, at this point you've lived through two wars, multiple displacements. You are in emergency mode often. I guess you can say the emergency mode has become…
Hind Obeid
Normal?
Melissa Fundira
Your new normal. Yeah.
Hind Obeid
Yeah.
Melissa Fundira
What do you think you'll need to be able to do this work long-term? Can you see yourself doing this work long term?
Hind Obeid
This is a very hard question. I do agree with you that emergency mode is the new normal, at least for me, I can speak for myself. It's not only about these two years. It feels like we've been like this for many years, especially in Lebanon, most of the time we have emergencies. So, uncertainty becomes almost a habit. I start adapting around and learning how to deal with it. It's just like I'm building around uncertainty in my life. And this situation, I don't know how to plan for the future, because we don't know if there will be a future. It affect how we see our future, or if I want to talk about my future now. The plans, the sense of stability, or even hope. So, the question about long-term, I don't know how to answer it. We are trying to adapt and to process what is happening, and to still keep going, trying to continue as much as we can. I guess, because it's a way of resisting, and how we stay grounded, and how we don't give up in a place or in a world that feels like everything is going just to destroy and to attack.
Melissa Fundira
Is that a big reason why you keep showing up day after day, despite the circumstances, that it's a way to resist and a way to stay grounded?
Hind Obeid
Yeah. You know, this is the main reason I didn't leave to my village, because I wanted to be near people, near to see people. It's a kind of mix of responsibility and connection, to see people who need support and keep going. And yes, it's a way of resisting, to stay grounded.
Melissa Fundira
You know, we often hear in the news that politicians are trying to negotiate peace. Around the time of our conversation, the Israeli and Lebanese officials are meeting in Washington, D.C., which is a rare thing, since the two countries don't have any diplomatic relations. Are you optimistic about any of these talks?
Hind Obeid
I don't know how to feel about these talks. Yaani, it feels like it's a cycle and everything is being repeated. So, there's some hope, maybe things will change at this time, but I don't know if I'm going to say I'm going to be optimistic, yes or no.
Melissa Fundira
Every day, as you know, the news changes, and one day, there's hope that a ceasefire will extend to the whole region. And then, of course, it gets violated. And then, there's, you know, more peace talks, more announcements. But, the people who are living through the war are never the ones who are actually in those rooms making the decisions. If you could be a part of those talks, what do you want these world leaders to know, from your perspective as an aid worker in Lebanon right now?
Hind Obeid
To leave us alone. This is not a diplomatic answer.
Melissa Fundira
You already have so much on your shoulders. I'm curious why it was important for you to take the time to write the story that you wrote for The New Humanitarian, and to sit down with us now for this podcast.
Hind Obeid
Maybe it is a way to resist, and it is a way to say that we exist, and we are working and trying our best to keep going, to help each other, to help our communities, and to raise awareness on what we are going through, and to say also that we are trying to hold on, even though we are in a crisis.
Melissa Fundira
Hind Obeid is an aid worker with Basmeh & Zeitooneh in Lebanon.
Thank you for listening to Rethinking Humanitarianism. Our episode is produced and edited by Melissa Fundira, with support from Freddie Boswell. Sound mixing by Tevin Sudi. Editorial oversight by Irwin Loy. Hind Obeid’s first person story Reflections of a Lebanon aid worker on holding on while everything collapses was edited by Annie Slemrod. You can find it on our website – thenewhumanitarian.org.
If you have any questions or comments you can email us at [email protected]. Please rate and subscribe to our show wherever you get your podcasts. Also, consider becoming a member of The New Humanitarian to help us continue reporting from the heart of crises. Go to www.thenewhumanitarian.org to find out more.