In a year marked by seismic shifts in global aid, two of the world’s largest donors—the United States and the United Kingdom—have slashed foreign assistance with devastating consequences for some of the most vulnerable populations. As the dust settles from these abrupt policy changes, humanitarian organizations are struggling to cope, and the lives of millions hang in the balance.
It all began in the weeks following the second inauguration of Donald Trump in January 2025. According to Futurism and ProPublica, billionaire Elon Musk, newly appointed to a powerful government post, spearheaded the dismantling of key government agencies through the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE). Among the first and most significant targets was USAID, the international development agency responsible for distributing billions of dollars in aid across the globe. Within days, DOGE’s actions gutted USAID’s operations, sending shockwaves through the humanitarian sector and raising urgent alarms.
The United States had long been the largest donor to the World Food Program (WFP), contributing $4.45 billion in 2024 alone. When the funding was abruptly cut, the impact was immediate and catastrophic. In Kenya, WFP operations were left in shambles. Over 720,000 refugees, many residing in the sprawling Kakuma refugee camp in northern Kenya, relied on the WFP to survive. With the lifeline severed, rations were slashed, and more than 300,000 people found themselves with almost nothing to eat. Tragically, as ProPublica reported, many—including children—died of malnutrition in what was described as a “man-made hunger crisis.”
The scale of the tragedy is hard to overstate. The Gates Foundation issued a dire warning in December 2025, noting that if funding cuts persist, 12 million more children could die by 2045. The loss of U.S. support has not only led to immediate suffering but threatens to reverse decades of progress in child health and survival worldwide.
Yet the pain didn’t stop in Kenya. Secretary of State Marco Rubio had initially promised in early February 2025 that humanitarian food and medicine programs would be spared. But by March, he reversed course, announcing that “we are officially cancelling 83 percent of the programs at USAID,” and claiming that 5,200 contracts did not “serve the core national interests of the United States.” The remaining programs were folded into the State Department, where, according to ProPublica, leadership included a former Border Patrol agent, an oil executive, and a city communications manager—none of whom seemed interested in reversing the devastating cuts, even as WFP officials sounded the alarm.
Inside the Trump administration, confusion reigned. USAID staffers were locked out of their offices, and many officials—including President Trump himself—were reportedly uninformed about the dire consequences of shutting down USAID overnight. White House Chief of Staff Susan Wiles told Vanity Fair she “didn’t know a lot about the extent of [USAID’s] grant making,” but was “initially aghast” when Musk targeted the agency. “Because I think anybody that pays attention to government and has ever paid attention to USAID believed, as I did, that they do very good work,” she recalled. The sentiment was echoed by a United Nations official who told ProPublica, “There was zero plan, except causing pain. And that is not forgivable.”
Across the Atlantic, the United Kingdom was quietly executing its own dramatic retreat from global aid. As reported by The Independent, the UK government had by December 18, 2025, slashed nearly all aid funding to Sierra Leone—including a £35 million grant for maternal and newborn health. The program, run by a consortium of charities including Concern Worldwide and Helen Keller International, had provided essential medicines, training in hospitals, and access to lifesaving resources like blood and testing for maternal death causes such as pre-eclampsia. Now, funding is set to plummet from £35 million to just £1 million by 2027, before ending entirely.
Another portion of the grant, delivered by UNICEF, which included essential medicines and special care baby units for sick or premature newborns, is scheduled to end in March 2026. Suzanne Wooster, a UNICEF spokesperson for Sierra Leone, warned, “Reductions in funding for newborn and child health risk disrupting essential services at a critical time. UNICEF continues to work closely with the government of Sierra Leone and partners to mitigate impacts and safeguard gains made for children and newborns.”
The Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office (FCDO) has defended its new approach, arguing that with a much smaller aid budget, it must prioritize big international funds like Gavi and the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis and Malaria. While these funds have also suffered cuts, they have not been as severe as the 40% overall reduction in the UK’s aid budget. The UK has also pledged to maintain its contributions to humanitarian crises in Gaza, Ukraine, and Sudan, but this leaves little for other countries in need.
Pete Baker, deputy director of global health policy at the Center for Global Development, told The Independent that the aid cuts were happening “quite quietly behind the scenes,” and called for greater transparency. “You’d hope that they’d be willing to be more transparent around some of these cuts given that lives are at stake,” he said. Baker pointed out that Sierra Leone is “one of the poorest countries in the world. It’s got really terrible maternal mortality and child mortality rates.” He also lamented the loss of the UK’s “long history of both leadership in global health and reasonably good transparency,” adding, “It would be a shame to lose.”
The FCDO spokesperson stated that the UK remains “committed to defending and promoting sexual and reproductive health and rights, and we will continue to work with international partners in support of women and girls.” However, they also emphasized the need to “modernize our approach to development [to] reflect the changing global context.” The UK had invested over £187.9 million into Sierra Leone’s health system over the last decade, but the future now looks uncertain. Detailed plans for further aid cuts, expected in autumn 2025, have been delayed into 2026, leaving recipient countries in limbo.
As the world’s wealthiest nations pivot inward, the repercussions are being felt most acutely in places least equipped to bear them. For the millions of refugees in Kenya and the mothers and newborns in Sierra Leone, these decisions are more than budget line items—they are a matter of life and death. The humanitarian community is left scrambling to fill the gaps, but as one UN official put it, the lack of foresight and planning is “not forgivable.”
The global aid landscape has been redrawn in 2025, and the consequences are already tragically clear.
