LocationsMeet Hiroko Massey and get inspired as you follow her journey from a curious law student to a catalyst for post-conflict recovery, gender equity, and resilient development at UNDP
From Brussels to Kabul: My Unexpected Path to the UN
January 5, 2026
Hiroko during a field mission visiting a school in Kandahar, Afghanistan
Photo: UNDP Afghanistan
My journey into multilateralism began while I was still a university student traveling in Europe. I had studied law in Japan, but a summer camping trip across Europe sparked a question that would shape my future: how could countries that once fought wars now share a currency, a parliament, a common future? Could this experience be translated to other regions? Crossing borders by bus, watching languages and cultures change overnight, fascinated me and planted the seed for my global career.
Back in Japan, I successfully applied for and completed an exchange program at Durham University focusing on EU integration. Soon after, I packed a suitcase and set off for Brussels with a six-month return ticket. I secured traineeships at the European Chamber of Commerce and the European Commission’s Spokesman Service, followed by a junior role supporting a Member of the European Parliament (MEP), who was a member of the EU–Japan delegation. I still remember walking into the Parliament without an appointment and introducing myself to a MEP, simply because his name sounded English. That bold move led to an unexpected offer from Mr. Ford: helping to write a book on EU-Japan relations. It taught me early on that initiative opens doors.
Hiroko Massey, Trust Fund Manager for the Special Trust Fund for Afghanistan (STFA)
Photo: UNDP Afghanistan
I never imagined working for the United Nations. Everything changed during a summer visit to Syria, Lebanon and Jordan in 1999. A friend, then a Junior Professional Officer (JPO) with UNDP, introduced me to colleagues, one of whom was based in Brussels. That conversation planted an idea: I wanted to join a multilateral organization where Japan had a voice, and the UN was the answer. Months later, while in New York for a family emergency, I saw CNN reporting on Indonesia’s first democratic elections after Suharto’s fall. Learning about UNDP’s role in that historic moment was the call I had been waiting for. Soon after, I was on a plane to Jakarta to help set up an Elections Facilitation Center for my first UN assignment. I had no roadmap, just determination. The center became so successful that even Foreign Minister Ali Alatas visited. That success gave me confidence and opened the door to my next chapter.
I then got a short assignment to Timor-Leste during a critical post-crisis period to support UNDP’s efforts on the ground. The assignment was intense: I helped prepare for a major Japanese delegation visit and played a key role in securing a $100 million aid grant for UNDP.
My own JPO Experience: Lessons in Adaptability
While still working in Indonesia, I secured a JPO position sponsored by the Government of Japan. Under this contract, I was deployed to New York to join the UNDP Regional Bureau for Asia and the Pacific (RBAP) as Desk Officer for Timor-Leste. From headquarters, I continued to champion Timor-Leste’s development, managing its portfolio. One of the most meaningful highlights of this period was witnessing what our collective support had helped make possible: Timor-Leste’s independence. I vividly remember the day its flag was raised at the United Nations headquarters in New York. A year after the Independence Day celebrations, President Xanana Gusmão who was visiting RBAP hugged me and said, “Thank you for all you did for my country.” That single gesture captured years of effort and reaffirmed why this work mattered.
A proud moment, witnessing how the Timor-Leste's flag is raised at the United Nations headquarters in NY, September 2002.
Photo: Hiroko Massey
My responsibilities also expanded to include Mongolia and Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK). This period gave me a macro-level view of UNDP’s work and exposed me to strategic coordination, resource mobilization, and lessons learned from other post-conflict contexts, including work with the Afghanistan and Iraq task forces at UNDP headquarters.
Little did I know, these lessons would prepare me for one of the most demanding chapters of my career: Afghanistan.
Afghanistan: A Leap into Post-Conflict Work
After Timor-Leste, I knew I wanted to return to a post-conflict setting. So, when in my third year as a JPO, the RBAP Deputy Director asked if I would join him on a mission to witness the work of Afghanistan’s largest disarmament, demobilization, and reintegration programme - aptly named Afghanistan’s New Beginnings, I didn’t hesitate for a second. When I got there, I was informed that they needed someone to manage donor reporting, and I embraced the challenge head-on.
On a field mission for the disarmament programme in Afghanistan
Photo: UNDP Afghanistan
Life in Kabul was intense, yet strangely communal. Most of us internationals shared the same guesthouse, which meant daily conversations with colleagues, including the Country Director. One day, over coffee, he mentioned that preparations for Afghanistan’s upcoming elections were underway and that, given my prior experience, it could be a perfect fit. By then, the reporting systems were running smoothly, so I pivoted once again, stepping in to help set up the governance unit to shape one of the most critical democratic milestones in the country’s history: the 2004 presidential election and the 2005 parliamentary elections.
What began as a short-term role grew into a substantial governance portfolio covering capacity building, anticorruption, starting the parliamentary support and civil society empowerment, among others. The work was meaningful, but it was relentless. The portfolio became so large that the governance team eventually had to split into two units. Even with the division, the pace was exhausting. Sharp stomach pains, constant fatigue, and a creeping sense of burnout forced me to make a difficult decision: I resigned.
I told people I was going to “detox,” and that’s exactly what I did at an Ayurvedic retreat center in Karnataka, India. Just one week in, UNDP headquarters called. They needed someone on a short assignment to replace the Deputy Country Director in the UNDP India office. I asked for two more weeks to finish my retreat - and then said yes. That break saved me. It reminded me that rest is not a luxury; it’s a necessity. Resilience requires recovery, and that pause prepared me for what came next.
Returning to Timor and a New Chapter in Khartoum
Timor-Leste had always held a special place in my heart.
While I was undertaking my short assignment in India, I applied for and was selected as Deputy Country Director for UNDP Timor-Leste - my dream job. Soon after landing, I helped organize a major donor conference while unknowingly battling a severe case of dengue fever. I learned the hard way never to ignore a high fever in a tropical country. I still remember lying on a stretcher as I was evacuated to Darwin, Australia, after the conference. It took my husband four days to reach me from Khartoum, Sudan, where he was stationed. That was an eye-opening moment: we were living too far apart.
After a year, I made a choice for my family and accepted a position in Khartoum, closer to my husband. I worked with the United Nations Mission in Sudan (UNMIS), which was a Department of Peacekeeping Operations mission and through UNDP, leading the Resident Coordinator’s Support Office within a hybrid peacekeeping mission in North Sudan. The environment was tense, and my role focused on building a stronger coordination team, improving collaboration, and enhancing resource mobilization and effective use of resources, while bridging gaps among donors, local authorities, and communities. It was challenging work, but during my 2 years there, life gave me its greatest gift: I became a mother to twins.
Presenting the twins to my dear colleague Ameerah Haq, former Deputy Special Representative of the Secretary-General for the now-closed United Nations Mission in the Sudan (UNMIS)
Photo: Hiroko Massey
Motherhood: Navigating Work-Life Balance
After years of crisis-driven work, I embraced a different kind of challenge - raising twins and rediscovering balance. It was the hardest job I have ever had. I brought them to Sudan and every time I left for the office, two pairs of eyes followed me, crying as if I would never return. I asked my mother to come for three months to help me adjust, yet even then I was overwhelmed with emotion. It became clear where my priorities lay.
I decided to leave the UN, and first spent three years in Tokyo, before moving to the countryside of Yamanashi, Japan. There, my children grew up surrounded by mountains and rivers - and even monkeys, whom I warned them never to tease. We embraced nature, sang loudly without worrying about traffic or neighbors, and rediscovered the joy of simplicity, so different from life in a big city. For six years, I focused on being present: for my children, for my family, and for myself. My twins even told me I was “nicer here” in the countryside. I wasn’t stressed. But eventually, I needed something more.
At the entrance of the kindergarten in Tokyo, Japan
Photo: Hiroko Massey
I started a part-time administrative job at a nearby top-notch high school. Working in education felt, in a way, like development - developing human capital. Later, I transitioned to a full-time job at a university. The administrative structure was chaotic, but they trusted me to rebuild it from scratch. Later, my husband joined the university as well, and for two years, we had a perfect 9-to-5 rhythm with plenty of family time. It was the best decision ever. But after a while, I felt restless. When my twins turned ten, I asked them if I could return to development work. They said, “Mom, that’s a good thing. Do it.” So, I did.
Return to Afghanistan
In 2021, I returned to Afghanistan - 14 years after I had left. I never expected to go back; after all, I had resigned years earlier for health reasons. When I told my parents about the new role, their reaction was immediate: “What? Really? Are you crazy?” This time, I was appointed Fund Manager of the Law and Order Trust Fund for Afghanistan (LOTFA).
In a meeting with former Afghanistan Minister of Interior Affairs (MOIA) and former UNDP Resident Representative, Abdullah Dardari before the Taliban takeover.
Photo: UNDP Afghanistan
I arrived to find a team that existed in name only but dispersed across locations and operating without clear direction. There was no handover, and trust from both donors and the government was minimal. Within two months, I brought the team together, restored donor confidence, and organized a high-stakes summit chaired by the SRSG. Then, in August 2021, everything changed. Kabul fell. Air traffic was suspended, but I managed to evacuate on the last commercial flight out of the country, indirectly thanks to the Indian ambassador, who was being evacuated on the same plane.
From afar, I was instructed to focus on basic human needs. I froze all LOTFA spending, closed ongoing projects, and - in record time - established a new fund - the Special Trust Fund for Afghanistan (STFA). In less than two months, we mobilized approximately $100 million, which was disbursed to support joint UN programming in the northern and southern regions. Within seven months, 17 UN agencies had joined the STFA, with Sweden serving as our first co-chair. As of the end of 2025, the fund has mobilized a cumulative total of $275 million.
Today, everything we do aligns with the UN Strategic Framework for Afghanistan (UNSFA). Coordination is key - bringing agencies together to deliver under extraordinary constraints. It has been an intense almost five years for me.
Afghanistan is not an easy place to work - especially now. Humanitarian and development operations both face significant constraints, funding is increasingly limited, and concerns around human rights contribute to a fragile and uncertain outlook. Restrictions on women’s participation across many sectors remain firmly in place. Within my team, the only two national women staff are able to continue working, but only from home. These restrictions create deep uncertainty and psychological strain – raising questions like, “Will I lose my job?” and concerns about the future. Yet resilience endures.
One story in particular stays with me. A young woman who returned from Iran began eight years ago with just $100 and a dream, employing 10 women. She invested every afghani, built a carpet-weaving business that manages the entire process from start to finish, and today is valued at over $350,000. She now employs hundreds of women, most of them internally displaced. Stories like hers remind me why I do this work - not for recognition, but for impact. If she can do it, so can others.
Visiting a carpet factory in Afghanistan with representatives from the Swedish International Development Cooperation Agency (SIDA)
Photo: UNDP Afghanistan
Today, people may know me as a fund manager, but the truth is, this was my first time stepping into that role. I didn’t have all the answers –and that was okay. I showed up, stayed curious, and learned by doing.
That`s the advice I share with anyone starting something new:be brave enough to begin, curious enough to keep learning, and bold enough to say yes when opportunity appears. Do the work, trust the process, and let momentum build. The rest will follow.
** As of early 2026, Hiroko is in the process of transitioning to a new assignment with UNDP India, as Head of the Fund Management Unit for the Infrastructure Resilience Accelerator Fund (IRAF).
Related
content
content
