Our mission is to help. Work that changes lives
Published: Mar 8, 2025 Reading time: 10 minutes Share: Share an articleThey stay where their help is most needed. They see solutions where others see hopelessness. They support, train, provide first aid, lead, coordinate, and inspire. These are women who work in the humanitarian sector; they are helping Ukraine to survive. The stories of six of our colleagues in People in Need are about choice, perseverance, and the power that changes lives.

Laura Naude: 'Ukraine has become my mission'
I am from South Africa and have been in Ukraine for over two years. The weight of my decision to move to Kyiv only truly hit me after I boarded the bus in Poland. But from that first journey, the warmth and humour of the Ukrainian people was evident, with these lovely women offering me coffee, oranges and biscuits and guiding me through the pit stops and border control. I never expected to stay in Ukraine this long. However, the impact and integrity of PIN's work, my wonderful colleagues, beautiful Kyiv, and the importance of the cause have kept me here.
I work as a programme coordinator; I support the implementation of our humanitarian projects across Ukraine. I have a roving role where I collaborate with our teams across the country and visit project locations, which continuously strengthens my knowledge. I am grateful for my team, who always take a stand for the people we support. Despite being a large international NGO, PIN remains compassionate and flexible, responding swiftly to the ever-changing needs of those affected by the war.
What makes PIN Ukraine truly exceptional is its leadership. In a sector where women are often underrepresented at the highest levels, PIN Ukraine is led predominantly by women who bring strength, expertise, and unwavering dedication to our mission. Their leadership is not just symbolic; it is transformational. These women are not only navigating complex humanitarian challenges but also reshaping the narrative of who leads in crisis response. It has been a privilege to learn from and be led by them.
Alyona Yemtseva: 'I know what it's like to be needed'.
I provide emergency humanitarian aid to people affected by the war. And every day is a new story of pain and loss. We meet people whose homes are only memories, whose families have been scattered by the war to different parts of the country.
When the evacuation from Donetsk Oblast began, the People in Need team worked seven days a week. We registered the victims, helped them to leave, listened to their stories, and held their hands when they were scared. Tiredness didn't matter because we were there for those who needed it most.
I stay where I can help. And I am inspired by the people around me who, despite the stress and difficulties, continue to save lives.
Sofiya Popovych: 'I came back to help.'
I was born in Ukraine but spent a significant part of my life in Canada. After the Revolution of Dignity and the start of the war in the east, I decided to return to support those in need. I saw a job opportunity, and within weeks, I was on a train to Mariupol. Nearly a decade later, I am back in Ukraine—working with People in Need to help those whose lives have been forever changed by war.
I first learned about People in Need in 2015. Even then, the organisation was working in the toughest conditions, reaching remote communities that had no other support. Later, I collaborated with the team in Syria and saw first-hand how fast, efficient, and community-driven they are. Being part of this organisation is an immense privilege.
Last spring, I travelled to Kharkiv to support my colleagues who were enduring intense shelling. The city shook daily from explosions, and I wondered whether people could withstand the pressure. But they never stopped—spending weeks working in a transit centre for evacuees and returning there even in their free time, on weekends. They were scared, exhausted, and sleep-deprived, yet they kept going. Whenever I feel overwhelmed, I think of their resilience—and keep working.
In this work, finding time for yourself is difficult. But when I do, I sit at the loom or shape clay with my hands. There is something deeply grounding in these crafts—the rhythm, the textures, the ability to create something tangible. I love discovering the echoes of different cultures and traditions in them. One day, I hope to create a space where people can gather, learn, and create together.
Hanna Harbadyn: 'Work saved my life.'
I lost my home twice. In 2014, I had to leave Donetsk, and in 2022, I lost my hometown of Kostiantynivka. But I always stayed where I could be helpful.
I have been working in the humanitarian sector since 2010. First as a volunteer, then as the head of an NGO. When the full-scale invasion started, our city became a buffer zone for people fleeing the shelling. They passed through us; some stayed, some moved on. We worked seven days a week—organising shelters and looking for humanitarian aid. When we lacked resources, we collected clothes and essentials, even from among our belongings.
When the situation escalated, I left for Lviv with my younger sister. My parents stayed behind. My mother is a healthcare worker, and she worked to the limit, saving others. Her determination probably set an example for me. But when my dad died, I moved in with my mum because the separation was killing us.
My family's house in Kostiantynivka was destroyed. There is nowhere to return to; the memories of my hometown hurt.
I have been working at People in Need since May 2022. I implement projects to support vulnerable groups. We help veterans, IDPs, and families of the deceased. I frequently meet people who have had to start all over again. A woman who lost her son and husband yet continues to strive. A man who lost his home but did not give up. Sometimes, they tell us: 'You have no idea what it means to be left with nothing'. But I have.
This work has become a point of support for me. It has given me a team with which to go through any challenges, the opportunity to be helpful, and the belief that even in the most difficult times, there are always those who will not leave me alone. We do not promise—we act. And I know that our work changes lives.
Lviv also gave me something unexpected—love. Andrii and I sometimes joke about how well East and West have come together in our family. We've been looking for each other all our lives, and we found each other just when the familiar world around us was shattered. But perhaps this is fate.
Inna Panchenko: 'My life is about following my work. In the literal sense.'
I am a Senior PSS Officer, а psychologist, psychosocial support specialist, breathing practices instructor and a person who is convinced that everyone needs support, not only for those who come for counselling but also for those who provide it.
I lived in Donetsk Oblast, but the war forced me to leave. At the end of March 2022, I ended up in Uzhhorod. There, I responded to a vacancy for a People in Need and later moved to Kropyvnytskyi.
Education for me is not just about diplomas but a way to understand the world and people. That is why I am constantly studying. Now, I have three professions: a speech therapist, a physical education teacher and a psychologist. The latter has become my life's work. In Kropyvnytskyi, I worked in a mobile psychological support group. Together with a colleague, we visited communities where we met with people who had lost their homes, loved ones, and faith in the future. I remember every story. I remember one woman saying: 'As soon as I see 'People in Need' in the announcement, I know you will be there. So I'm definitely going for a consultation.'
Later, the project ended in Kropyvnytskyi, and I moved again—this time to Mykolaiv. Now, I am a Senior Psychosocial Support Officer, responsible for implementing activities in the region, writing reports and participating in training. One of the most recent events was on-site training for social workers from Mykolaiv and Kherson oblasts. After the training, the psychologists commented that they were working at 100% and did not feel exhausted because they were not dealing with organisational issues. Such moments are the meaning of my work.
But to help others, you need an inner resource. I know this from my own experience. In moments of professional burnout, support is the biggest help. At People in Need, we understand how important it is for both those seeking help and the psychologists themselves to get help. That is why we offer regular supervision—an opportunity to analyse complex cases, get support and not be left alone with emotional exhaustion.
I live by the principle that 'home is where I am'. Home is also where my cat Pixel and my dog Jerry are. They travel with me everywhere—from trains to minibuses, from Sloviansk to Mykolaiv. They are my foundation and stability in a world that is falling apart.
I work because I know that in the darkest times, everyone needs someone to help them see the light.
Olha Ampilohova: 'It's not just a job - it's something I like and feel confident about.'
I was born in Kryvyi Rih. I graduated from a metallurgical university, but I never worked in my field. Driving has been a part of my life since I was 17 when I first sat behind the wheel of a motorbike; after a while, I realised that it was not just a hobby but something I really enjoyed.
When the full-scale invasion began, I did not even consider going abroad. I knew I could help in Ukraine. First, as a volunteer: I helped to transport humanitarian supplies and find shelter for people fleeing the war. Later, I joined People in Need as a professional.
Being a driver for a humanitarian organisation is much more than just driving. When we travel to dangerous regions, the driver is responsible for the safety of the team. I always keep the first aid kit in sight, check that the vehicle is in working order and coordinate the route. I must account for weather conditions, roads and possible risks. Sometimes, there are no roads at all—just traces of military equipment or a washed-out primer. But we have to go. Because we bring those who assess the damage, organise humanitarian aid and carry out registration.
It has always amazed me that a girl driving is seen as something unusual. But for me, driving isn't just about getting from A to B. It's also about keeping an eye on the car's technical condition. I know my car; I know how the engine works; I know how to change the oil, filters and coolant myself. If something goes wrong, I don't just 'hear' it; I understand exactly what's going on. It's the same with my bike—I maintain it myself. If necessary I can take certain components apart and put them back together again.
But the road is not all work for me. When I have free time, I travel on my bike. During the last warm season, my girlfriend and I travelled halfway across the country: Kharkiv, Zaporizhia, Poltava, Cherkasy oblasts and Bila Tserkva. This year, we are planning a two-week motorcycle trip from the east to the west of Ukraine.
A motorcycle is not just a vehicle. It is freedom. There is no clear destination, just the road. The wind, the sound of the engine, the feeling of being one with the moment. You can stop anywhere—just because you see a beautiful field, smell the forest, or want to sit by the river. These are the feelings that cannot be explained—you can only experience them.
I love speed, I love adventure, I love my job. And I know for sure that the road is always going forward.