In my experiences on the field, I found that in the employment pyramid of non-governmental organisations (NGOs), field workers constituted the foundational layer. These individuals, often referred to as social organisers, field officers or field coordinators, were actively engaged with the communities they served. They were dedicated and served as organic intellectuals within their areas. However, despite their crucial role, they often went unrecognised by key stakeholders, including donors and top management. This lack of recognition manifested in inadequate pay, insufficient learning opportunities and the absence of well-defined career paths. Moreover, this issue was pervasive across the sector and was not limited to a specific type of NGO. It persisted regardless of the organisations’ noble missions, robust bank statements, or the geographical diversity of their operational areas. Although these NGOs addressed various community issues, the well-being of their field staff—who were essential to their success—was frequently overlooked or deliberately ignored.
I vividly recalled that a well-known NGO leader used to say that if staff were to be trained, then they would leave the organisation. Therefore, the view was that there was no need to send them for training. However, in most organisations, field staff often found that promises of support did not translate into tangible benefits.
My field notes, based on discussions with these workers, confirmed that their experiences reflected a broader trend of neglect. All of them said that their leadership never thought about how that attitude would impact staff morale and self-esteem. They listed the areas of neglect as: opportunities for foreign training, international exposure and financial benefits. These observations also stemmed from my experiences with service-providing organisations in the irrigated areas and desert pockets of Sindh.
Interestingly, regarding the neglect of field staff, leaders or founders often told a different story that typically began with a claim that their organisations religiously practice the principle of equal opportunity. Curiously, none of them acknowledged the injustice, despite the presence of framed pictures of their international trainings and exposure in their cozy offices, which were enough to contradict their statements. Throughout my work with various multi-sector organisations, I consistently found that they all faced two persistent challenges: financial insecurity and high staff turnover. As a result, many organisations struggled to establish themselves as sustainable institutions, and frequent staff changes hindered the retention of institutional memory. Additionally, the culture of reading and documentation was often discouraged, leading to a lack of continuity in practices and knowledge transfer. Furthermore, compounding these issues, leaders often fell victim to a ‘horizontal scale syndrome’—a misguided focus on spreading programs to other areas—prioritising the acquisition of more funds over their primary responsibility to lead and envision a better future for the community. It was a misconception that scaling up programs or expanding geographical coverage automatically led to increased funding and retention of trained human resources. Instead, NGO leaders often shifted their focus from being change-makers to merely fund mobilisers. Consequently, the organisation’s vision became secondary, and the quest for funds and donor approval took precedence.
Moreover, I noted that financial insecurity was deeply entrenched in organisational culture, and discussions about cost-saving measures frequently dominated senior staff meetings. A troubling practice emerged where senior staff advocated for the dual use of the same field staff across different projects to save on salary costs. This approach neglected the physical and emotional toll it took on employees. As a result, field staff were often overburdened with demands from both the organisation and donors, leading to exhaustion.
I recalled that many young, idealistic graduates who entered the development sector with dreams of effecting change soon realised that their roles often revolved around organising donor visits and facilitating community meetings. Ultimately, they became mere instruments for maintaining the NGO’s operations and implementing ineffective projects dictated by donors. A stark reality set in: field staff felt that neither organisational leaders nor donors were genuinely committed to meaningful change. Instead, they often found themselves perpetuating the status quo, fostering dependency, and masking government inefficiency and corruption. For example, field staff were compelled to report on successes that were fabricated or exaggerated to satisfy donor requirements, further entrenching the cycle of superficial engagement.
On the ground, staff served as dedicated community mobilisers and organic intellectuals within their areas. However, despite their crucial role, they often went unrecognised by key stakeholders, including donors and top management
In my long association with the development sector, I observed significant differences in the needs of male and female field staff regarding accommodation, travel arrangements and community engagement. For instance, providing separate accommodations, transportation, and sanitation facilities could enable women to perform their roles more effectively. One female staff member shared two pressing issues: the lack of separate toilets and the community’s insensitivity, which forced her and her colleagues to dispose of sanitary products discreetly at night. Despite repeated requests for proper disposal facilities, the organisation consistently denied these needs.
In another instance, a senior female staff member recounted a distressing experience where she was abruptly called back from maternity leave to accompany a donor on a project visit. Tearfully, she expressed her frustration that even in the presence of women on the donor team who advocated for women’s rights, no one acknowledged her challenging situation. Similarly, in a separate incident, a male colleague was pressured to return from his wedding leave because of donor visits. Such experiences illustrated a broader culture where staff members were discouraged from taking necessary leaves or advocating for better working conditions. When employees voiced their needs, they were often labelled as demanding or ungrateful.
Additionally, I noted how the attitudes of senior male staff could negatively impact the reputations of unmarried female field workers. These perceptions could hinder their opportunities for marriage, while many staff members, constantly shifting from one project to another, found themselves overly engaged and lacking the time to explore personal relationships. Many young women were lured by their seniors or leaders of organisations with promises of job security, stability and career advancement. Consequently, some ended up in relationships with older or already married influential individuals within the NGOs, - resulting in complicated dynamics affected their professional and personal lives.
Almost all NGOs, regardless of their size, vision, or geographical scale, lacked structured plans for career progression and employment security for their field staff. None of these organisations had implemented regular promotion pathways, leading to intellectual stagnation and discouraging dialogue on change theories and innovative ideas. The absence of these frameworks left field staff feeling unsupported and undervalued. Unfortunately, the culture of centralisation, fear and unnecessary pressure from superiors further hindered their professional growth and eroded happiness in their lives. One female staff member told me that in their organisation, giggling was considered indecent, and even light makeup was noticed with a different message.
I once posed a question to Dr Akhtar Hameed Khan, (a well-known development practitioner and founder of the Orangi Project in Karachi, about the future of field staff. Instead of a direct answer, he likened them to horses in a city park—ill, wounded and worn out, with their eyes covered by blinkers, trained to see only in one direction. In this analogy, field staff were burdened with an overwhelming number of implementation tasks, preventing them from noticing changes in their environments or learning new skills. When leaders eventually recognised their staff's exhaustion, they may have chosen to let them go, because they were not capable to meet expectations.
Moreover, the lack of professional development opportunities left field staff feeling stagnant and unmotivated. For example, a field officer who had been with an NGO for several years mentioned that he had not received any training or capacity-building opportunities to enhance his skills. As a result, he felt stuck in his role, unable to contribute meaningfully to the organisation’s mission or to his own professional growth. This situation was common, as many organisations failed to invest in the continuous development of their staff, leading to a workforce that was disengaged and disenchanted.
Let me state that the burnout among field staff in the development sector was a multifaceted issue influenced by organisational practices, leadership priorities and the broader socio-political context. For genuine community development to occur, a fundamental shift was necessary in how organisations supported their field staff. This shift must have ensured their well-being, professional growth, and capacity to foster meaningful change within their communities.
I think it is important, even if NGOs are motivated only by their own survival, to prioritise the well-being of their staff by implementing structured career pathways, providing regular training and professional development opportunities, and fostering a culture of open communication where staff can voice their needs without fear of retribution. Furthermore, organisations should recognise and address the unique needs of female staff to create a more inclusive and supportive work environment.
I think by taking these steps, NGOs can not only enhance the effectiveness of their field staff but also contribute to a more sustainable and impactful development sector. Only then can we hope to break the cycle of burnout and disengagement, allowing field staff to thrive and fulfil their potential as agents of change within their communities.