The emotional fallout of mass USAID and NGO layoffs

When Laura I., a senior nutrition adviser contracted through the Public Health Institute, came in to work on Jan. 28, she did not expect it to be her last day at the U.S. Agency for International Development. The notice to stop work came mid-morning, with a slow wave of termination emails following throughout the day. Laura was one of thousands of contractors caught in one of the most significant drawdowns of U.S. foreign aid staffing in decades, a move that resulted in the dismissal of all but a fraction of the entire USAID workforce. The hardest part wasn’t losing her job, Laura said. “The hardest part of this [is] we’re watching everything get destroyed … decades of work that has seen real improvements … and watching that just get decimated with utter disregard for the people who are going to die,” she said, describing how all the projects the health bureau were working on have been discontinued. A mission cut short The scale and suddenness of the layoffs have sent shock waves through the international development community over the past four months. Beyond the loss of their own livelihoods, many affected describe a profound sense of disorientation, rooted in the erosion of purpose, community, and trust. “[We] literally had discussions that babies shouldn’t die,” said a West Africa-based country director who requested anonymity. “Which is not something you would think would be questioned.” Dr. Abir Aldhalimi, a clinical psychologist and former senior mental health and inclusive development USAID adviser through Greenleaf Integrative, said many current and former staff are experiencing a layered emotional reaction, “especially in development and humanitarian settings … the work is so mission driven.” Among those layers, she said, is a sense of organizational betrayal. “When you’ve dedicated your career to a federal job … and you are in it because you care about the work that you do ..[and] all being gone within a span of a couple of days, and then you have to pick up the pieces of your life. That is a huge betrayal,” she said, adding that “there are real mental health consequences to feeling like the organization you gave so much to ... is now harming you.” In her clinical practice, Aldhalimi sees many federal employees in survival mode — heightened anxiety, anger, and logistical urgency. In this stage, people are mostly not seeking mental health support, but are trying to regain a sense of safety and control. “They’re less likely to actually reach out to therapy … because when you’re in survival mode, you’re not trying to unpack all of your feelings.” The crisis for those still inside For staffers who remain, the emotional strain is ongoing and layered. “Initially, it came across really COVID-like … everything was crazy. People were literally dying as a result of program suspensions,” said the West Africa-based country director. In the weeks that followed, their team tried to adapt emergency response models to manage the fallout. But the shifting environment has made long-term planning nearly impossible. “Grants were rescinded, and then they were cancelled, and then the cancellations were rescinded, and [it] just keeps going,” the country director said, who has already had to cut half their team and is preparing for additional restructuring. “No one really knows how long they're gonna have a job, how long things will last, what's coming next.” For many local staff working with national NGOs, the economic strain is even greater, the country director said. “Inflation is high. Salaries can’t keep up with costs. The cost of food is rising.” As a manager, the director said they’ve focused on being honest with where they’re at and trying to redirect funding to support local partners. But on a personal level, they are preparing for the worst. “I started looking at how do I apply for asylum,” they said. “Everything you have as a backup, particularly if you’re an American, is also under attack.” Makeshift support networks “You got a wire transfer with your final paycheck, plus any PTO was paid out. At that point, they were done,” said Laura. In the absence of institutional support, former USAID contractors have been left to create their own safety nets. Laura credits the communication networks built during a unionization drive for helping her and others navigate the immediate aftermath. “We had these big groups already set up and had email lists of everybody … which was incredibly helpful in those early days”, she said. In the days after the layoffs, she organized an informal gathering at a local library in Washington, D.C. — “no agenda, just to be together.” Around a dozen contractors showed up, helping one another file for unemployment and share resources for insurance coverage. Access to USAID’s internal mental health program, Staff Care, was also cut off for most contractors, Aldhalimi said. In response, she offered free therapy sessions for the month following the layoffs. But she realized people weren’t necessarily ready for therapy. They were just trying to figure out things like what do I do now? Do I go back to school? How do I deal with this financial insecurity? Aldhalimi said effective mental health interventions she’s seen during this period have come from self-organized community efforts rooted in advocacy. She also highlighted the rise of informal support groups — everything from women’s circles to coaching, which can help with “processing the moral injury, rethinking what it would mean to have your professional identity continue outside of this job.” A long-standing blind spot "In terms of providing psychological care, [the] NGO world never really did that very well anyway,” said the country director. Reflecting on her time in the field, Aldhalimi agreed that mental health support for staff was lacking for what is an already vulnerable community. Particularly for those coming from a human rights background, where “give, give, give” is normalized, and it’s not addressed properly, she said. Acknowledging those struggles would also require institutions to admit they failed their staff, said Aldhalimi. “When you're saying ‘okay, goodbye, the contract is over’ ... you're clearly not seeing someone's humanity in this process. For you to acknowledge that they are human, .. you must acknowledge that they're hurting, and that would be a dissonance.” As the initial shock wears off, Aldhalimi expressed concern about the long-term impact on federal employees: “I think in a few months … people are going to need to process all of this.” Update, June 20, 2025: This article has been updated to clarify that the U.S. foreign aid cuts have resulted in the dismissal of nearly all USAID staff.