Dead Aid?

    For years, African scholars and policymakers have labeled traditional foreign aid as “dead aid”, critiquing its dependency and inducing structures, and advocating for equitable trade, investment, and self-reliant development. Yet when the newly sworn-in U.S. President Donald Trump announced a 90-day freeze on nearly all foreign aid including programs under the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), the global humanitarian sector erupted in panic. Clinics shuttered overnight, HIV patients were turned away, and NGOs scrambled to survive. This frenzy raises a critical question: Are we mourning the end of aid itself or the reckless abruptness of its termination? The answer lies in confronting the unresolved tensions between Africa’s long-standing critique of aid and the harsh realities of its sudden withdrawal.

    African voices like Dambisa Moyo have long argued that aid perpetuates dependency, stifles local innovation, and entrenches foreign agendas. Yet, a blunt instrument wielded without warning, Trump's executive order exposed how deeply entrenched aid remains in sustaining basic survival. In Zimbabwe, Claris Madhuku’s youth empowerment organization, which relies on U.S. funding to combat child marriages, halted operations overnight. “We had to stop everything, no warning, no time to adjust,” he lamented. Similarly, PEPFAR, the U.S. HIV/AIDS initiative credited with saving 25 million lives, saw clinics close abruptly, leaving patients like Gumisayi Bonzo a 54-year-old relying on antiretrovirals for 23 years terrified of a “death sentence”.

    The irony is stark, while African leaders push for systemic shifts toward investment, the sudden aid freeze reveals how poorly many nations have been equipped to fill the void. The crisis isn’t about aid’s necessity but the absence of a transition plan. As Gyude Moore, a Liberian policy expert, noted, the freeze “makes no distinction between ally, partner, and adversary” therefore undermining both immediate survival and long-term trust.

    In 2022 a report released by CSIS underscored the glaring hypocrisy that only 3.1% of humanitarian funding reaches local actors directly. Despite decades of rhetoric about “localization,” power—and money—remain concentrated in international NGOs and Western contractors. Trump’s freeze amplifies this imbalance. In Uganda, for example, HIV clinics funded by PEPFAR redirected patients to overwhelmed government facilities, which cannot absorb the surge. Such a dynamic reveals a bitter truth that the aid system’s failure to empower local institutions has left communities vulnerable to external whims. As the CSIS report implies, the “predatory dynamics” of aid where foreign intermediaries profit while sidelining local expertise, are not just inefficient but lethal when funding vanishes overnight.

    This demeaning panic over USAID’s freeze underscores a painful reality. Many African nations remain trapped between rejecting paternalistic aid and lacking the resources to replace it. Kenya’s government, for instance, hastily reaffirmed its commitment to HIV programs post-freeze, but questions linger about long-term sustainability. Conversely, Uganda’s declaration of “self-reliance” rings hollow when its health system is already strained.

    The solution lies not in romanticizing aid nor vilifying it, but in redefining it. Prioritizing domestic development aid and direct investment in local agriculture, education, and healthcare systems could break the cycle. For example, Liberia’s post-war recovery, supported by USAID-funded school lunches and farmer training, shows how aid can catalyze growth when aligned with local priorities. Yet such models require time, trust, and transparency—all casualties of Trump’s rash decision-making.

    The freeze also plays into geopolitical rivalries. As U.S. influence wavers, China’s Belt and Road Initiative stands ready to expand its footprint in resource-rich African nations. While critics dismiss Chinese aid as debt-trap diplomacy, its appeal grows when Western partners abruptly withdraw. The U.S. risks ceding not just humanitarian leadership but strategic alliances, all while undermining its own stated goal of countering authoritarian influence.

    The outrage over USAID’s freeze is not a defense of aid’s status quo but a cry against its reckless dismantling. Africa’s critique of “dead aid” remains valid and shows that the entire system is broken. But the abrupt halt as commanded by Trump, exposes how little has been done to build alternatives. The path forward demands a dual focus, holding donors accountable for sustainable, localized partnerships while compelling African governments to prioritize domestic resource mobilization. As the CSIS report reminds us, until funding flows directly to those on the frontlines, aid will remain a lifeline and not a ladder.