Blog by GNDR’s Head of Programmes, Shivangi Chavda
I first encountered the word “Resilience” in 2001, just as I was stepping into the humanitarian world. A mentor explained it to me through the metaphor of bamboo—a plant that bends but does not break. It withstands floods, earthquakes, and fierce winds. That image never left me. Bamboo, in its quiet strength and graceful flexibility, became my lifelong metaphor for communities facing adversity.
Today, over two decades later, the world around us is teetering on the edge of crises – conflict, climate disasters, pandemics, aid cuts. Entire populations are being swept into deeper uncertainty. Hard-won development gains have been eroded in months. Humanitarian systems, strained and politicised, are struggling to cope.
We are not just witnessing change; we are living through a systemic unravelling – a moment that demands more than bouncing back. It demands bouncing forward. But how?
Many of us are asking: What will become of the development sector? Are we still relevant? Can we influence peace, equity, and justice? Will we ever recover? And more critically—what does resilience even mean anymore?
I believe the answer lies in the same metaphor that shaped my early years in this field: we are bamboos.
We may bend – under the weight of uncertainty, under the loss of resources, under the heartbreak of conflict – but we do not break. Resilience is not just about surviving the storm. It’s about adapting, transforming, and standing tall again—rooted in our values, grounded in our communities.
This is not the first time we have been tested. Humanity has endured wars, disasters, and disruptions before. What defines us is not our despair, but our determination to re-organise, rebuild, and reimagine.
The future of development will not rest in grand global frameworks alone. It will live in the hands of local champions, frontline responders, community leaders, and youth who will protect their people – with or without traditional aid. CSOs must evolve to be knowledge facilitators, not just service providers – sharing science, tools, and technology in accessible ways.
It’s likely we’ll see fewer large institutions and more networks of committed actors pooling resources, offering support across boundaries. Communities will learn to adapt with limited external help. Governments and private entities will need to come together to co-create large-scale, sustainable solutions.
This is not the end of humanitarianism – it is the beginning of its next chapter. A chapter where resilience isn’t outsourced, but owned by those closest to the risks. A chapter where we build not islands of excellence, but ecosystems of endurance.
Resilience is not a concept we simply teach. It is what we live, breathe, and embody. And like the bamboo, we will bend. But we will not break. We will rise – stronger, smarter, and more rooted than ever.
——–
Photo: Yakkum Emergency Unit, Indonesia