At the dusty edge of the Fulatari camp in Dikwa, Borno State, Nigeria, a small grave covered in weeds stands as a stark testament to the consequences of decisions made far from Africa’s heartland. Yagana Usman, clutching her surviving son, points to the resting place of his twin—a victim, she says, of a world where humanitarian aid is as fragile as the children it aims to protect. Her story, as told to CNN, has become emblematic of a crisis that is both deeply personal and profoundly global.
Usman, a 40-year-old mother, has spent the last eight years seeking refuge from the violence unleashed by the Boko Haram insurgency. The Fulatari camp, meant as a sanctuary for those fleeing terror, has instead witnessed repeated tragedy in her family. Over those years, six of her thirteen children have died, including triplets who survived only three days in 2023. The most recent loss came in March 2025, just days after a U.S.-funded nutrition program that provided therapeutic food for her malnourished twins was abruptly halted.
“I was sick and had no breastmilk,” Usman recalled to CNN about the loss of her triplets. “There was nothing I could afford to give them to survive, so the babies died of hunger.” For Usman and thousands like her, the difference between life and death for their children is often determined by the ebb and flow of foreign aid dollars. In her case, the fate of her surviving twin now hinges on policy decisions made in Washington, D.C.—decisions that have recently tilted toward retrenchment.
Earlier in 2025, the U.S. government imposed a freeze on foreign aid, cutting support for programs that aid organizations described as lifesaving. The nutrition program in Dikwa, funded by the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), received a sudden stop-work order during this freeze, according to Mercy Corps, the nonprofit running three outpatient nutrition clinics in northeastern Nigeria. The abrupt halt left more than 55,000 children, including Usman’s twins, without access to therapeutic feeding.
The reverberations of these funding cuts have been felt far beyond Nigeria. In March, UNICEF warned that nearly 1.3 million children under five in conflict-affected northeastern Nigeria and Ethiopia’s drought-stricken Afar region could lose access to treatment this year due to dwindling resources. The risk, UNICEF cautioned, was a sharp rise in mortality among the world’s most vulnerable. Save the Children echoed these concerns in August, reporting that millions of malnourished children in Kenya, Somalia, South Sudan, and other countries would also be affected by the funding shortfalls.
The United Nations’ World Food Programme (WFP) soon sounded the alarm as well. In August, WFP warned that international donor funding was “drying up,” forcing reductions in food and nutrition assistance for hundreds of thousands in northeastern Nigeria. More than 150 nutrition clinics supported by the agency were at risk of closure, threatening to leave entire communities without lifelines.
According to the Integrated Food Security Phase Classification (IPC), about 5.4 million children under five in northeastern and northwestern Nigeria suffer from acute malnutrition. Of these, around 1.8 million face severe acute malnutrition, and approximately 787,000 pregnant and lactating women are also acutely malnourished. These staggering numbers, reported by CNN, paint a picture of a crisis that is both persistent and worsening.
Mercy Corps, which operated the now-shuttered clinics, said it was forced to close 42 programs in 2025 alone. These closures affected more than 3.6 million people across crisis hotspots including Nigeria, Sudan, Afghanistan, Somalia, Gaza, and the Democratic Republic of Congo. “The world cannot afford to look away—not when mothers like Yagana (Usman) face the unbearable risk of losing more children,” Melaku Yirga, Mercy Corps’ regional director for Africa, told CNN. He warned that an abrupt end to U.S. foreign assistance “risks reversing decades of progress, forcing families into dangerous coping strategies and stripping away their last lifeline.”
In response to mounting criticism, the U.S. State Department told CNN that food assistance to internally displaced people and communities in Borno State has resumed, but at a significantly reduced capacity. A spokesperson emphasized, “It is imperative to remember that the American taxpayer was never meant to bear the full burden of taking care of every person on Earth—whether that be with food, medicine, or otherwise. Despite this, America continues to be the most generous nation in the world.” The State Department noted that the U.S. recently provided $93 million to help nearly one million malnourished children in 13 countries, including Kenya and South Sudan, and contributed $52 million to the WFP for emergency food aid.
David Stevenson, WFP’s chief in Nigeria, explained that the agency has been forced to reduce support in the north from 1.3 million people in July to 850,000 by September 2025 due to funding constraints. He expressed gratitude for a $32.5 million donation from the U.S. Embassy in Nigeria announced on September 3, which, together with less than $10 million from other donors, would keep operations running only until the end of November. “If there hadn’t been satellite feeding centers in Dikwa, many malnourished children would not have received attention,” Stevenson told CNN, but he also warned that this contribution would offer only temporary relief.
For families like Usman’s, these temporary reprieves have been bittersweet. Usman began receiving additional food assistance from the WFP last year, but in September 2025 she was informed that she would no longer qualify as the agency reallocates its limited resources. Her surviving twin was readmitted to the nutrition program in July and still receives ready-to-use therapeutic food packets and critical care for severe malnutrition, but the threat of further funding cuts looms large.
“I have that fear in my mind. I’m always thinking about how I could get something to feed him,” Usman told CNN, her anxiety palpable. Nutrition counselor Hassan Abubakar Bukar described the situation in Borno as tragically routine: “Almost every month, we encounter stories like these. Because of fewer (nutrition clinic) sites in Dikwa, a lot of malnourished children are left out. The parents cannot afford (nutritious) diets, so most of the children may die at home.”
Despite the United States’ role as the world’s largest provider of humanitarian aid—spending more than $54 billion since 2021, with $3.8 billion allocated to Africa in 2024—experts argue that such spending represents less than 1% of the federal budget. Margaret Schuler, chief impact officer at World Vision, told CNN, “We really believe that foreign aid is a great investment for the U.S. government in terms of the return it brings.” Yet, World Vision itself saw about $100 million worth of U.S. government funding cut, with programs in over 20 countries terminated, including those considered lifesaving.
As debates continue in Washington over the future of foreign aid—amid efforts by the Trump administration to freeze another $4.9 billion approved by Congress—the fate of children like Usman’s surviving twin hangs in the balance. The reopening of a handful of nutrition clinics offers some hope, but for many families, the uncertainty is almost as devastating as the hunger itself.
The story of Yagana Usman and her children is a reminder that, for millions, the fight against malnutrition is ongoing—and that every policy decision, no matter how distant, can ripple through the lives of the world’s most vulnerable.