On a gray Thursday morning in Brussels, the usually quiet avenue near the U.S. Embassy was anything but subdued. Around 50 women’s rights activists gathered, their voices echoing off the embassy’s stone façade, carrying signs and wooden crosses that read “700+ women dead” and “people will die.” Their protest, held on September 18, 2025, was not just another demonstration—it was a direct response to what they see as a looming humanitarian crisis: the possible destruction of millions of dollars’ worth of contraceptives, originally destined for women in some of Africa’s most vulnerable communities.
According to the Associated Press, the supplies in question—valued at over $9 million and funded by U.S. taxpayers—are sitting in limbo inside a U.S.-funded warehouse in Geel, Belgium. The cache includes contraceptive pills, implants, and IUDs, all intended for women in war zones or refugee camps across five African countries: the Democratic Republic of Congo, Kenya, Mali, Tanzania, and Zambia. These supplies were supposed to offer a lifeline to women and girls facing extraordinary hardship, but now their future hangs in the balance.
What’s at stake if these supplies are destroyed? Activists warn the consequences could be dire. Estimates suggest that incinerating the stockpile could result in 362,000 unwanted pregnancies and more than 700 deaths linked to childbirth or pregnancy complications. As the head of the Europe branch of the International Planned Parenthood Federation, Micah Grzywnowicz, explained to the AP, "In Tanzania, those supplies that were supposed to be sent, it’s one-third of the whole needs of the health system. And in human numbers, it is one and a half million women and girls who are supposed to get life-saving supplies." For many, the prospect of losing such resources is not just a numbers game—it’s a matter of life and death.
The roots of this crisis trace back to earlier in the summer of 2025, when the Trump administration announced it was reconsidering the fate of the contraceptive stockpile. The situation was further complicated when the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID)—the very agency responsible for managing these foreign aid programs—was dismantled. With USAID gone, no clear authority remained to decide what should happen to the supplies, leaving them stranded and vulnerable to political winds.
Adding another layer of complexity, the U.S. recently reinstated a policy prohibiting aid to organizations that provide abortion services. This move, as reported by multiple sources including the AP and European outlets, effectively blocked the distribution of the contraceptives to their intended recipients. Instead, the supplies are now at risk of being incinerated—a prospect that has set off alarm bells among advocates on both sides of the Atlantic.
“It’s very clear that this is a tactic. It’s a long-term game to dismantle the global health system that we have,” Grzywnowicz said in an interview with the AP. “It’s about control—our bodies, our decision-making, and we are not the ones who have control right now.” For activists, the issue is as much about the principle of bodily autonomy as it is about immediate health outcomes.
The protest in Brussels was not just a local affair. Women’s rights advocates called on the European Union to explore “all legal and diplomatic avenues” to prevent the destruction of the supplies. According to reporting from European news outlets, demonstrators urged EU institutions to intervene, describing the potential incineration as a “reckless, harmful and cruel action.” Their message was clear: the fate of these contraceptives is not just an American problem, but a global one, with far-reaching consequences for women’s health and rights.
So, what’s stopping the supplies from being destroyed already? The answer lies in Belgian law. The regional government in Flanders, where the warehouse is located, has a strict ban on incinerating reusable goods. According to Tom Demeyer, communications chief for the Flemish environment ministry, such goods can only be burned “if an exemption from the incineration ban is granted by the Minister for the Environment and a double levy on waste incineration is paid.” As of September 17, 2025, no exemption had been requested or granted. In fact, Flemish authorities inspected the warehouse just the previous week to confirm the supplies were still there, and local incineration facilities have been warned to notify authorities if any attempt is made to destroy them.
Belgian officials have also been in talks with U.S. diplomats, exploring ways to spare the supplies from destruction. Options on the table include moving the contraceptives out of the warehouse or finding alternative recipients. But with no clear decision from the U.S. side, the situation remains in limbo.
Meanwhile, the U.S. State Department has offered only vague assurances. Deputy spokesman Tommy Pigott told reporters last month that no final decision on the contraceptives had been made and that the administration was still “determining the way forward.” For activists and health workers, this uncertainty is cold comfort. The longer the supplies sit unused, the greater the risk they will expire, become unusable, or ultimately be destroyed.
Behind the scenes, the political debate is as heated as the protests outside the embassy. Senators Jeanne Shaheen, a Democrat from New Hampshire, and Lisa Murkowski, a Republican from Alaska, have both spoken out about the issue, emphasizing that the supplies were intended for women facing extraordinary hardship. Their bipartisan concern underscores the fact that, even within the U.S., there is no consensus on the best path forward.
The controversy has also reignited long-standing debates about the role of U.S. foreign aid, the intersection of health policy and politics, and the global impact of American decisions. For some, the reinstatement of the policy blocking aid to organizations that provide abortion services is a necessary affirmation of certain values. For others, it’s a devastating blow to women’s health and autonomy in some of the world’s most vulnerable regions.
As the days tick by, the fate of the contraceptive stockpile remains uncertain. Will diplomatic efforts succeed in finding a solution that saves the supplies from destruction? Or will bureaucratic inertia and political stalemate doom them to the incinerator? For the activists in Brussels—and for the millions of women and girls who might have benefited from these supplies—the stakes couldn’t be higher.
The story unfolding in that Belgian warehouse is a stark reminder of how policy decisions made in distant capitals can ripple across continents, shaping lives in ways both seen and unseen. While the world waits for a resolution, the voices of those gathered outside the U.S. Embassy serve as a testament to the enduring struggle for women’s health and rights—a struggle that, for now, shows no signs of abating.